Astrology and Reincarnation

(Reprinted from The Mountain Astrologer)

 

Steven Forrest

            Maybe, as Buddhists teach, we’ve all lived many other lifetimes. Or maybe not. I doubt the question will ever be settled definitively since neither belief can be refuted or proven. Two points, however, are sure. A third one flows naturally from the first two:

1. All who accept reincarnation agree that our present personalities and circumstances  are rooted in our previous lives.  (1,2,3)

2.  All astrologers agree that our  personalities and circumstances are reflected       somehow in our birthcharts.

                3.  If we accept both astrology and reincarnation, logic compels us to recognize that our present chart must reflect prior-life dynamics—that hidden in our natal configurations are clues, however subtle, about who we were and what we were doing in previous lifetimes. If we accept both astrology and reincarnation, any other position is logically indefensible.

 

                I have personally always accepted reincarnation and tried to include it in my astrological work. I knew from my early astrological reading that in some fuzzy way the Moon’s south node had something to do with it. (4,5,6)  Gradually, I made a bit of sense out of how prior lives, as  reflected in the south node’s sign and house, impacted the present. I  learned most of it, as always, from conversations with my clients. Then about seven years ago, two monumental events happened for me:  I began a creative partnership with Jeffrey Wolf Green, and I started my astrological apprenticeship programs. In terms of the astrology-reincarnation link, I think Jeff and I were each holding half the cards. And my apprentices provided a precious community dialog in which these principles could be tested against the intimate realities of people’s lives.

                The discoveries are ongoing. I’d like to share some of what we’ve learned so far. From now on, I will use the language of reincarnation unabashedly—but please know that a lot of this can almost as easily be interpreted as your ancestral past lives “reincarnating” in you through the mechanism of DNA. Whether that person living back in the eighteenth century who so resembles you was your great, great, great, great grandmother (whom no one remembers), or actually was you yourself in a prior lifetime (which you forget), makes little practical difference. In either case, the past is living on in the present.

                In this article, we’ll focus on the royal road into the karmic story: the lunar south node. The full evolutionary perspective ultimately involves all the planets, and places a lot of emphasis on the phase-relationship of the Moon to its own south node. It also puts a particular focus on the planet Pluto. For that deeper perspective, please see any of my more recent books or pre-recorded lectures, anything Jeffrey Wolf Green has published. (7, 8), or the two volumes of Measuring The Night which he and I wrote in partnership (9, 10).  By the way, much of what follows is adapted from a book by Jodie Forrest and myself, Skymates II: The Composite Chart.  (11)

 

The Lunar South Node

 

                All the astrological planets except the Sun have south nodes, and they all make reference to the past. But it is the Moon's south node—historically called the Dragon’s Tail—we generally interpret. Why? There is actually a simple answer. What survives the trauma of death and rebirth is not our factual memory—not our “Mercury” memory, so to speak. It is our emotional memory: the “Moon memory.” We carry an underlying mood or attitude forward from the past. Beyond that, at best we recall only fragmentary impressions of names, details, history. That mood or attitude is what you can see and feel in the south node of an individual birthchart.

                Imagine a child grievously abused. She grows up with the trauma repressed:  at a conscious level, she has no idea it happened. But everywhere she goes she carries an attitude of shame, fear, suspicion, and insecurity. It taints her relationships, her attitude toward her body, and her self-image. You can feel the mood surrounding her like a cloud. And yet she remembers nothing—in the Mercury sense. But the Moon carries the emotional memory intact, as perfect as a butterfly encased in glass. The heart's memory is stronger than death; the mind's memory is not.

                That is precisely how the Moon's south node works.

                In all counseling work, there is an obvious case to be made for an upbeat, positive approach. But with the south node, a negative bias permeates everything, and it is completely appropriate. This can be a bit of a stretch for astrologers with warm hearts, but here is the reasoning:  what we carry forward from the past—or at least what manifests through the symbols of the  chart—is material on which we need to work. With the node, we learn about things we got wrong in prior lifetimes—or things we got right, but in getting them right, we sustained damage which haunts us today. Some happier material does get through the after-death pipeline, but it doesn't seem to be reflected nearly as clearly in the astrological symbolism. There is an efficiency here:  the  chart seems to tell us only “what we need to know.”

 

The south node primarily represents unresolved wounds, tragedies, limitations and failures from the past which potentially interfere with our ability to fulfill our soul-contract in this lifetime.

                The south node is always in the past. By definition, since evolution carries us forward, we were less evolved then. We are haunted by this part of our soul history, and vulnerable to repeating it. Even the “good stuff” in the south node feels tired and overly familiar. We already know it, so there's no compelling need to learn it again.

               

Finding the Karmic Story

 

                Any novel worth reading is full of made-up facts that come together to tell us some great truth. Our aim in prising the karmic story out of the nodal structure is very similar. We're not really expecting to unearth specific, verifiable past-life facts:  for that, go to a good psychic or experience a hypnotic regression. What surfaces through nodal analysis is a parable that parallels the actual past-life realities. The core point is simply this:  the story doesn't have to be “factual” for it to be “true.” Even without any particular intuition, the technical procedures we explore here can produce powerful, evocative, and psychologically-relevant results.

                Maybe a person was actually a pioneer in the American west in a prior lifetime and was killed by beleaguered, desperate Navajo warriors. Maybe in our analysis of the south node, we come up with story describing her as an immigrant crossing the Atlantic on a ship taken by hungry pirates. Our facts are completely incorrect—but the story is still “true” psychologically. Emotionally, it boils down to the same dynamics.

 

The South Node's Sign and House

 

                The sign the south node occupies tells us about the nature of the person and what his or her soul-contract was in the past. Just remember to tilt your interpretation a bit negatively, then think of south node's sign as you would a conventional Sun sign. And remember also that the soul-contract was not fulfilled successfully, at least not 100%.

                South node in Aries? She had a warrior's nature and energy—but you'll be looking at dark issues of stress and fear, along with the damaging impact of violence received or violence offered.

                South node in Libra? Probably we are looking at a loving person—but watch out for too much “politeness,” indecision, or concern with appearances. That's the Libran shadow.

                The house the south node occupies tells us about the physical scene of his or her life in the karmic past—what he or she was actually doing and also some insight into the circumstances which compelled or constrained the person.

                South node in the ninth house? Think about institutions of learning or religion. Consider travel or immigration. Eleventh house? Movements. Tribes. Large groups of people. The nearly irresistible force of mob psychology. Second house? Issues around money or the material basis of survival. Tenth house? Status questions linked to a defining public role—or a suffocating one.

                Next, put the house and the sign together. South node in Libra and in the eleventh house? Probably we’re looking at a married person, crippled by indecision and too much concern with what others thought (Libra)—typically in the context of a compelling, but stultifyingly-proper society (eleventh house, modified in the Libran direction.).

                Try switching to the south node to Aries, while keeping it in the eleventh. The person now emerges in a more belligerent, angry or adventurous (Arian)  way. He is still operating in the context of a group, but now that group is not so polite. It takes on an edge of explosiveness and destructiveness—that's the eleventh house, now tilted in the Arian direction. That Arian eleventh house node sounds like an army—that would at least be an evocative metaphor. And that is what we are looking for.

                To bring the sign and house of the south node together, let them speak to each other. Let each one flavor and deepen the other one. That's how we build the foundation of the nodal analysis.

 

Run It Through The Filter

 

                Linking the south node's sign and house, as we just saw, begins to narrow the field in which the karmic story will unfold, but it is still unsatisfyingly vague. There are 144 possible combinations of sign and house, but there are a lot more than 144 possible human stories! Still, we've already made progress worth celebrating. We've winnowed the list down to less than one percent of all human archetypal possibilities—0.69% of them, to be precise!

                But we can go much further toward precision.

                What follows is a series of technical procedures. They may seem a bit overwhelming—and to succeed here, you do have to juggle a lot of balls at the same time. But there is one principle that overshadows everything. If you understand it, you will stay on top of the details. Every new ball we juggle actually makes the work of finding the story easier. Every technical dimension of the south node—its sign, house, aspects, and planetary ruler—serves to narrow our focus.  It adds information, of course—but more importantly, it eliminates possibilities.  It filters the information.

                We start with the infinite field of all possible stories. With each step, we winnow. In the end, what we have left is the essence of the karmic tale that underlies the emotional dramas of the present lifetime.

 

What we seek through our twin processes of discovery and elimination is a story that is consistent with all the nodal information and assumes nothing else.

               

Planets Conjunct the South Node

 

                When a planet is conjunct the south node, it further defines the nature of the energy and circumstances of the person in the past. Again, think of the south node as you would the Sun in more conventional astrology. Work with this configuration as you normally would work with a planet conjunct a person's natal Sun—except continue to tilt the interpretation toward sub-optimal expressions.

                Say that Saturn is conjunct the south node. That would suggest a long-suffering, disciplined person faced with extremes of responsibility, limitation, or privation.  Jupiter conjunct the  south node? Add an element of expansiveness and victory to the mix—a dollop of what the world would call “luck.” And be alert to Jupiter's eternal shadows:  all that glitters is not gold;  pride goeth before a fall;  be careful what you pray for, you might get it.

                A little while ago, we considered an Arian south node in the eleventh house, and brought up  the metaphorical image of an army as a context for prior life experience. Now, armies have privates and cooks and latrine-cleaners. They have sergeants and generals. They have heroes and cowards. Half of the armies win and half of them lose—at least among the ones that actually fight. Many armies just sit there and don't do much at all. In other words, our “0.69% of human possibilities” still contains a vast array of options.

                Add Jupiter to that node though a conjunction, and the focus gets a lot crisper. This soul was likely in a position of authority, glory and power. Very probably, he “won the war.” Pin some medals on him. Quite certainly, life offered him the chance to become inflated and over-extended, to overplay his hands, to play God. He got lucky.

                We can eliminate latrine-duty.

               

The Planetary Ruler of the South Node

 

                If the south node lies in Gemini, Mercury is its ruler. Wherever Mercury lies in the chart we find another set of clues about the karmic story. If the south node is in Taurus, we need to look for Venus. In Cancer, we pay closer attention to the Moon.

                In essence, the planetary ruler of the south node is an extension of the node itself. It describes another dimension of the karmic story. It provides another angle on the tale. Often, it seems to correlate with a pivotal chapter in the emerging tale of the prior lifetime.

                If, for example, we see the south node in the ninth house, but its planetary ruler is in the twelfth house, we might reason this way:  in a previous life, this person took a voyage (ninth house), but the ship sank  (twelfth house:  loss, trouble). There are many other possibilities, but that is certainly one of them!

                In the example we are developing with the Arian south node in the eleventh house conjunct Jupiter, let's now place Mars—the nodal ruler—in the eighth house, the traditional “house of death.” Warriors kill and are killed;  they see a lot of death;  they are face-to-face, in general, with the taboo and the extreme. What impact does it have on a person to have faced death? Or to have killed? Answer that question, and you've added another pivotal psychological dimension to your emerging nodal story.

                Now, instead of the eighth house, try putting Mars in the fifth house (play; creativity; pleasure). That's harder, simply because the connections between war and those happy subjects  are not so obvious. But warriors are under a lot of stress. Their level of tension demands release. What does a soldier do when he's on leave? One answer is that he raises hell! The pent-up fires demand release, and they do so with pressing urgency and a vulnerability to extremity. How might a solider carrying that kind of inner pressure respond to victory? After arduous battle, how are the citizens of the “liberated” town treated? There is more than one possible answer to that question, but since we are dealing with the south node, let your mind range toward the darker possibilities.

                Because of the nature of rulership, the planet that rules the south node will always have the same basic tone as the sign of the node. That means that the planet itself doesn't actually tell us much that we didn't already know. Where the node-ruler's usefulness emerges is through its placement in the chart. Thus, the planetary ruler of the south node essentially functions as a marker for another sign and house that have relevance to the karmic story. Any aspects it makes to other planets, especially conjunctions, also add detail and texture.

                There is one specific situation to highlight. With the south node in Leo, the Sun is the ruler—and thus the very essence of the person today (his or her sun sign) is deeply imprinted with the mark of the past. Everyone has karma, but it is particularly essential that we understand that karma thoroughly with this individual. Like the rest of us, for the sake of his basic vitality, he needs to be true to his sun sign. Yet, in so doing, he runs the danger of slipping into a lower, less-conscious version of that sign because of the downward pull of the ingrained karmic patterning. He is like a dried-out alcoholic who needs to sit soberly in a bar night after night.

 

The south node is like a planet in that it can be prominent or obscure in a  chart. As with a planet, its weight corresponds to the relative gravity or modesty of impact of the underlying karmic issues upon the present life of the person.

 

                One more point about the ruler of the south node. What do we do with a Pisces south node? The majority of modern astrologers would say that Neptune is its ruler. But traditionally, the answer was Jupiter. It's the same with Aquarius—Uranus and Saturn are both called its ruler, depending on who you ask. And Scorpio is shared—or fought over—by Pluto and Mars.

                My experience suggests that in each case both planets have an affinity for the sign in question. The word “rulership” is probably the real culprit in that it sets up to think that one planet should be “king.” But it doesn't have to be that way: think of affinity rather than hierarchy. I suggest that with a south node in Scorpio, Aquarius, or Pisces, you simply recognize both rulerships. What has produced the best results for me is to start with Uranus, Neptune or Pluto, then to let the traditional ruler add secondary detail.

                 

Planets in Aspect to the South Node

 

                All aspects to the south node other than the conjunction refer to forces that acted upon the person in the prior-lifetime. They point to external realities, although they often have inward and subjective correlates as well. Typically, these planets refer to other people—relationships that played some kind of shaping role on the person’s experience.

                Squares and oppositions correspond with people or situations which were experienced as challenges, resistance or negativity. Trines and sextiles are linked to people and circumstances which were felt to be supportive—but given our suspicious bias in all nodal analysis, we need to be careful about becoming too glowing in our appraisal of the sextiles and trines! They might simply represent unambivalently good things:  “safe havens” and “tea and sympathy” in otherwise difficult scenarios, but just as easily, they can indicate ways in which we were supported in folly.

                In our unfolding military-karma example, let's imagine Venus in Leo in the second house, making a trine to that Arian south node. Maybe our hero had money (second house). Maybe he had the “resource” of good looks (Venus in Leo). Good news? Historically, how many children of wealthy, ruling class families have been bamboozled by their tribe into accepting military rank? And has it always worked out well for them? And remember that fifth house Mars—how does “too much” money interact with a compulsive, tension-driven need for ecstatic release? The answer is, “supportively!”

 

With trines and sextiles, always be alert to ways in which the person could have been "supported" in folly or self-sabotage.   

 

                As we will soon learn, the most evocative aspects to the south node, other than the all-important conjunction, are squares and oppositions. These are powerful—and sufficiently distinct for us to treat them separately.

                The so-called “minor aspects” can play a role in this kind of analysis too, but we tend to shy away from them, favoring a deeper look at the foundation rather than spreading ourselves too thinly over details. Very briefly:

                Quincunxes suggest tensions, wild cards, situations or people that came in out of the blue and changed everything or required a lot of adjustment.

                Sesquiquadrates suggest situations and relationships that tied the person in knots, were intellectually confusing, and which smacked of “damned if you do, damned if you don't.” 

                Semi-squares suggest chronic, but tolerable vexations that take their toll by attrition. Think of mosquitos.

                Quintiles suggest breaks in the action, temporary reprieves, “divine visitations,” and creative interludes.

 

Planets in Opposition to the South Node

 

                Any planet in this position would be more conventionally described as being “conjunct the north node.”  We'll get to that! For our purposes here, we are concentrating on the south node of the Moon, and so it's the opposition aspect that draws our attention and focuses our understanding.

 

A planet opposing the south node represents something or someone who blocked, repressed, defeated or tantalized the person in the past. It either represents something insurmountable and irresolvable, or something unattainable. It symbolizes the brick wall of reality.

 

                The Unattainable:  Jupiter opposing the south node could indicate all the good things of life, just out of reach. Picture a Dickensian orphan, his belly empty—and his nose pressed up against the steamy glass of the elegant restaurant two nights before Christmas.

                The Insurmountable:  Imagine that the king (Jupiter) has declared war, and a gentle poet  is conscripted into the army. He hates it. He didn't choose it. But how can you argue with the overwhelming might and authority the of the king? His call-to-arms is the “brick wall of reality.” You deal with it. You have no choice.

                Those are two very different stories. Both are consistent with Jupiter opposing the south node. How can we know which story to tell? You couldn't—if you blundered by starting your analysis with this aspect, or by interpreting it in a vacuum.

 

By the time we are considering aspects to the south node, we should already understand the framework of the story. We find a place for the message of those aspects in the context of the more basic elements we have already established.

 

                Any tenth house planet opposite the south node will correlate with figures or structures of social authority existing in tension with the needs or desires of the person. A ninth house planet in opposition to the node suggests conflict with religion or law, or perhaps enforced migration: refugee status. A fourth house planet links to the inescapable, pressing demands of family or clan; a fifth house one can aim our attention at the morally-unavoidable demands of children—or the labyrinth created by addictive or compulsive pleasure-seeking.

                Always, with planets opposite the south node, one fact is central: whatever the problem was, there was no way around it.

 

Planets Square the South Node

 

                Any planet square the south node is naturally square the north node as well. As with the  opposition aspect we just discussed, the aspectual link to the north node is best treated as a separate issue. At this point, we are only concerned with the south node—which is to say, with uncovering the karmic story.

 

A planet square the south node represents a person, circumstance or issue that crossed, vexed, afflicted or undercut the intentions or needs of the person in the karmic past. It is therefore an issue left unresolved from the past, which presses for resolution again in the present life.

 

                Neptune square the south node? Explore a feeling of life slowly being leached out of the person. Perhaps Neptune was in the fourth house, and correlated with an endlessly-needy, insatiably-demanding, ever-dependent extended family. “Mom moved in and began to die when she was sixty. Now, she's ninety, still going strong, and still dying—and if she doesn't die soon, it will kill me.”

                Perhaps Neptune was in the fifth house or the twelfth house, either one of which can correlate with escapist behavior. With Neptune square the node from either one of those houses, we could imagine a person drinking herself into oblivion, gradually turning herself into a ghost of what she might have been.

                In these Neptune-square-the-node examples, always recognize that other options existed. That manipulative mother could have been be told to stand on her own two feet. Boundaries could have been set. In terms of the drinking, people can break addictions. Neither of these answers are easy ones and it is possible that the higher ground was simply not recognized at the time. But the key point is that squares (as distinct from oppositions) to the south node correlate with vexatious situations in which our own blindness or error plays a large role.

                Blindness and error are part of life and we all succumb to them. And always remember one of the cardinal insights into spiritual evolution: you were even dumber in the past! These lapses should not be greeted with guilt or shame, only with the recognition that we are wounded, that we run the risk of repeating the old pattern, and that there are better choices.

                Not all nodal squares represent our own errors—that's just a useful possibility to try on when you are framing the story. Some squares simply represent our frailty in the face of the enormity of life. Squares tend to “blind side” us—thus, they often link to circumstances “which we never saw coming.”  That's especially true with the edgier planets—Mars, Uranus, or Pluto—squaring the node. These all tend to leave the mark of trauma on the person. Perhaps the south node is squared by an eighth house Uranus:  a person is in the middle of life when suddenly he or she is taken unexpectedly by death. Terrorists crash the jet into the building, and last night's bitter fight is the last conversation we'll ever have in these bodies. How can we imagine the impact of such a sudden Uranian trauma?  From a metaphysical perspective,  we would surely have some “unfinished business,” were we ripped from life that way.

 

Projection

               

                That orphan we met a while ago, the one with the hungry nose against the glass of the fancy restaurant—what does she think of the rich people eating those lavish meals? The gentle poet who is forced by the king to fight a war—what is his attitude toward law and authority?

                When we are hurt, taunted or blocked by other people, we tend to think ill of them. We put our noses in the air. We say, “I would never in a million years be like that.” And God writes it down in a little black book.

                We reject the things that harm us. We dehumanize our oppressors. We put them out of our hearts. In the language of psychology, we project negatively onto such entities. These projections are in fact rejections of part of what we ourselves are. Sooner or later in the journey, such projections must be withdrawn. And we hate that!

 

                Planets square or opposed to the south node often represent kinds of people we must learn to stop hating, judging and rejecting, or we will reject the very parts of ourselves which we need if we are to go forward on our journey.

 

                Please note that this is not a generic reference to the sweet virtues of forgiveness and acceptance! It's more concrete in its relevance than that. Let’s bring it down to earth with an example:  with Jupiter on his north node, perhaps a person (who was a starving orphan in a prior life) needs to experience wealth and status in this lifetime. Perhaps she needs to lose her adaptation to poverty, anonymity, or to just “getting by.” Why? As we will discover in a few moments, the north node of the Moon clarifies the answer, but maybe she has something important to do for her community in this lifetime—and she can't succeed at it without being in a position to hobnob with the ruling class. Maybe she has a soul-contract to play Chopin in this lifetime. Have you priced a grand piano lately? For this woman to go forward, she must stop judging those whom she judged so vehemently in the past.  It's not about virtue; it is about the fierce logic of soul evolution.

               

Pulling the Karmic Story Together  

 

                By the time you've considered all the pieces of the puzzle, you've got quite a lot of information, especially if there happen to be a lot of planets making aspects to the south node. All this juggling can be overwhelming, but remember that every piece of the puzzle, while it adds details, also simplifies the picture. Just knowing the sign of the south node gets the story down to about eight percent (one in twelve) of all human possibilities. Adding the south node's house, as we saw, gets it under one percent. Progress! A planet conjunct that node? Hooray! You've cut out 90% of the remaining possibilities. Every south node has a planetary ruler—another 90% of your possible confusion evaporates! This is really the right way to think about the process, and not just because it's more encouraging. It's also sound methodology. What we are aiming to find, as we said earlier, is a story that is consistent with all the nodal information and assumes nothing else. Half of that is a process of discovery, but the other half is a process of strategic elimination.

                Every astrological symbol represents a very broad field of archetypal possibilities. The sixth house, for example, represents health and responsibilities—and mentors, daily routines, and  humility. And that's just the psychological material! The sixth house also refers to pets, aunts and uncles and nieces and nephews, the tools in your toolbox, your sister's home, your children's finances . . . the list is overwhelming. And it should be, since we are dividing the universe into twelve (obviously huge) boxes!

                Visualize this archetypal field as a gigantic frying pan full of icons representing each of its elements. Mars in Virgo in the ninth? That’s three pans. Mars, Virgo, and the ninth house. Mars:  put icons in there for warriors, pioneers, adventurers, athletes, people under stress, angry people, scared people . . . Virgo: in that frying pan, you need icons for motivations and attitudes involving meticulousness, responsibility, self-doubt, criticism, primness, nagging, martyrdom, craftsmanship, duty, skill . . .  The ninth house: conjure up icons for voyages, universities, religion, beliefs, the law, exploration, walking one’s talk, jumping to conclusions . . .

                Do the same with all the other archetypal fields pertinent to the nodal analysis—that is, with the ruler of the south node and with any planets in aspect to the node.

                Now see where the pans overlap. See where they have common ground. See what icons they either hold in common, or which daisy-chain together into a natural storyline, like a gun might suggest a murder, or a ship a voyage, or loneliness a foolish relationship choice.

                You've found it.

                That's the chart within the chart.

                That's your karmic story. 

               

The Dragon's Head

 

                The  north node of the Moon is opposite the south node. Much of its meaning follows directly from that simple geometrical observation:

         J It puts maximum tension on the south node—it represents an unexplored, unknown  possibility for the person.

         J It answers the south node's questions;  it resolves the south node's dilemmas.

         J It represents the person’s evolutionary intention and soul-contract.

                    But:

☹ Due to his inexperience with it, the person will likely be tentative, awkward and   confused  in that part of life, inclined toward “interesting and constructive errors.”

          ☹ It has no intrinsic energy at all;  it is nothing but an excellent suggestion.

 

                Earlier we looked at an invented example of a person with his south node in Aries and the eleventh house, conjunct Jupiter and ruled by a fifth house Mars. We posited a  background in  military experience, probably as an officer selected from among the “good families.”

                His north node must therefore be in Libra and in the fifth house since they lie opposite Aries and the eleventh. Thus, his soul-intentions are Libran: he is here to deepen his ability to function in partnership, and to experience peace, grace, and serenity. Libra is opposite Aries, as peace is opposite war and accord is opposite discord. Serenity is opposite tension—and, after the stress of war, there is a profound need to find tranquility.  Libra also represents our aesthetic functions—our ability to respond to beauty and to appreciate the arts: these emerge as useful “yogas” for this individual. In general, there is a feeling of moving out of the inherent roughness and rawness of war and into a more civilized framework reflecting gentler aspects of the human tradition.

                In this north node, we see that this individual has made a soul-contract to calm down, to heal from war.

                With the north node in the fifth house, there is a hunger for creative self-expression—and we hit paydirt: overlapping icons! Libra carries the archetype of the Artist. The fifth house urge to express one's self creatively links very directly to that archetype. Thus we recognize an elemental clause in this person’s soul-contract: to find peace, release, balance and healing through the device of creative self-expression.

                The fifth house is about joy and pleasure. After war, we need some! Something hardens in us under that constant stress. Something grows stony when faced with chronic violence, ugliness, and fear.  With the north node in the fifth house, there is a need to soften.  How? Art is one method, as we've already seen—a person thrilling to a live performance of Beethoven's ninth symphony, tears in her eyes at the final choruses, reaching for a partner’s hands. Feel the opening to the shared heart? There's Libran fifth house energy too.

                Speaking of pleasure, remember that we learned that the south node-ruler, Mars, also lay in the fifth house, where it suggested a karmic vulnerability to potentially destructive pleasure-seeking. As we guide this person toward the higher ground, we have a tightrope to walk:  we must affirm his evolutionary need for pleasure, while cautioning him about damaging levels of dissipation. The key is to emphasize the healthiest fifth house expressions, rather than setting strictures on the less healthy ones.

 

                Children are yet another correlate of the fifth house. With the  north node there, especially with it in Libra, the traditional sign of marriage, it is easy to imagine that having children would be part of this person’s soul-intention. That's of course a very personal choice and it's not the astrologer's business to tell anyone to make babies—having kids is consistent with that north node, but it is not the only possibility. It would be fair to say that part of his work is to move a relationship toward a place that is sufficiently calm, settled, safe and stable that he could choose to have kids.

                In a nutshell, this individual is learning that the war is over.

 

Planets Conjunct the North Node

               

                If there is a planet on the north node, we've already met it while doing the south node analysis—that planet is of course opposing the south node. There, it represented something troublesome, insurmountable or unattainable. Now, in this new context, we see it linked positively to the person’s present evolutionary intentions. He is trying to integrate the higher elements of that planetary energy into himself.

                Working with a planet on the north node is a good exercise in learning to see both the high and the low sides of all the planets. Saturn opposing the south node? In the karmic past, there was some basic, insurmountable lack—a poverty in some sense—that stood between the person and what he or she wanted. There’s a good chance it was embodied in some person who represented laws and limitations—someone saying “thou shalt not” or “impossible!” Now, with Saturn conjunct the north node, he or she needs to embrace that same Saturn energy, but move it up into its higher manifestations. There is an evolutionary need to internalize the kinds of present-tense self-denial that allow a person to build a future which engenders self-respect. Saving money so we can buy a house. Putting oneself through medical school. Raising healthy, sane kids. Staying together as a couple. Thereby, he or she overcomes an internalized karmic attitude of “coping” in a spirit of gloomy fatalism and acceptance of defeat.

                Keep the south and north nodes clearly divided in your head:

 

A planet opposing the south node hurt you or stalled you in the past. Read it negatively. That same planet, on the north node, shows you the way forward. Read it positively.

 

The Planetary Ruler of the North Node

 

                The planet that rules the sign of the Moon's north node helps us get to where we need to go. It supports the realization of the evolutionary intention.

 

The planetary ruler of the north node represents a useful tactic for fulfilling the soul-contract;  or an important piece of the puzzle;  or a helpful clue about how to get it right;  or just the icing on the cake—a way to “make an A” in the north node work.

 

                The critical theoretical point here is that the north node's ruler derives its meaning from the north node itself. We have to understand the two of them in that order or we'll lose our focus.

Here are two contrasting examples. In both, let’s say that a sixth house Venus is the north node ruler. Therefore, “to make an A,” the person must form responsible (sixth house) relationships (Venus). Hold that part constant.

                Put the north node in the tenth house. This person’s basic soul-intention is to make a mark in his community. But remember that sixth house Venus: to succeed he'll probably need to hire (sixth house) artistic, creative, socially-skilled people whom he loves (Venus).

                Now switch things around: put the Moon’s north node in the fifth house instead of the tenth. The evolutionary intentions now have to do with creative expression. Keep Venus in the sixth—to fulfill them, this individual will have to find artistic (Venus) mentors (the sixth house).

                The thinking behind this process can seem confusing until you remember the fundamental principle behind it. Start with a thorough understanding of the north node, then apply common sense in trying to imagine how its planetary ruler might help the cause.  With either the north or the south node, the principle is the same: the context of the basic sign/house nodal structure determines the specific meaning of the nodal rulers.

 

Planets Square the North Node

 

                A while back we saw that planets square the south node represented something the person left unresolved in the karmic past. To go forward, this leftover issue must be resolved—that’s half the meaning of the planet being square the north node. 

                In the words of  Jeffrey Wolf Green, such a planet represents a “skipped step.” (12) It haunts us, and the only way for us to advance is to return to the question and get it right this time. It's like driving in a strange city:  miss a critical exit on the highway and the only thing you can do is turn around and go back.

                Maybe someone “solves” the problems in one relationship by escaping into another one—and we all know that isn't likely to work. Very probably, whatever you are not facing in the first relationship will emerge as a problem in the new relationship too.

                We use the term “skipped steps,” but the irony is that no one can really skip any steps at all. We can only defer them.

                The energy of a planet square the nodal axis is hanging in the balance between the past and the future. Easily, it can fall backwards and recreate the old south node dilemma, but ideally, it needs to move to higher level and “serve the north node.”

                Earlier we looked at Neptune squaring the south node. One possibility we considered is that, in the karmic past, the person lost his evolutionary focus in an alcoholic haze. Another possibility in that story was that she allowed the life to be sucked out of her by a parasitic mother. Different stories—but in both cases we see the dark Neptune signature:  the uncreative, unproductive, unintentional loss of self.  Now, square the north node,  that Neptunian energy is hanging in the balance. The person needs to move it forward. It won't go away! If she doesn't get it right, she'll surely get it wrong—again. This time, Neptune wants to flower as an avid spiritual life or a deep engagement with the image-making processes we call art.

                Looking at it integratively, if her north node lies in the tenth house, this developing spiritual or artistic life needs to be reflected in her public, outward circumstances, perhaps in her profession. If, on the other hand, the node lies in the fifth house, it suggests “art for art's sake”—there’s ultimately no evolutionary need for any public expression.  In the ninth or the twelfth houses, it would tilt a bit more toward the spiritual and the mystical dimensions of Neptune, and less toward the imaginative and creative.

                As always, our aim is to find the points of overlap, and to let each symbol speak to all the others.

                It is critical to remember that resolving the issues connected with a planet square the nodal axis is the price of admission for going forward. Until those issues are addressed, we are blocked—stuck, whether or not we know it, in the past.

 

The blockages and distortions implicit in the planet squaring the nodal axis must be released and clarified before the soul-contract can be fulfilled. Otherwise, the north node is inaccessible

 

A Common Dilemma—and its Resolution

 

                The key to everything we've seen so far lies in understanding the natural tension of the opposition aspect between the north node and south node. Since opposite signs and opposite houses always represent different sides of the same coin, the nodes partake of the same polarity.

                Libran peace “cures” Arian stress—as Arian courage and forthrightness “cure” Libran  indecision and “politeness.”. Third house curiosity and open-mindedness cure ninth house dogmatism—as ninth house faith cures third house doubt and uncertainty. This “oppositional” thinking underlies all of nodal theory, not to mention much of the rest of astrology, Jungian psychology and Hermetic philosophy.

                But sometimes the north node and south node resemble each other so much that confusion can arise. There are several expressions of this phenomenon, and all of them are resolved in much the same way. We might, for example, see a Gemini south node in the ninth house. That puts the north node in Sagittarius (the ninth sign), “but” in the third house—which has a natural resonance with the third sign: Gemini.  So which way are we going?

                We might see a Gemini south node—but Mercury (which rules Gemini) is conjunct the north node. The future looks a lot like the past! We might see a Sagittarian north node—with Jupiter ruling it from its conjunction with that Gemini south node. Again, the past looks too much like the future.

                In all these cases, the answer is the same:  you need to keep a very clear distinction between the higher and lower expressions of the symbols. Always, the soul-contract is to go from lower to higher. Where the past and the future bear symbolic resemblance to each other, sort it out through the high-low distinction.

                Gemini south node? Too much thinking, or too much running around in circles frantically but pointlessly in the prior life. Mercury on that Sagittarian north node? He or she is on a philosophical quest for a meaningful existential framework (Sagittarius) in this life—but to succeed, the person will have to think, study, maintain intellectual openness and rigor, and be willing to discover surprising, even shocking, truths—that's the higher expression of Mercury (or  Gemini, for that matter).

                When the ruler of the north node is conjunct the south node, think as we have just outlined:  in the past, she was caught up in that planet's lower expression. Now she is trying to get to the higher ground, so she can go back and re-do the past, getting it right this time.   

 

A Practical Example

               

                Consider Figure #1, the chart of our Mystery Man—and please indulge me by not peeking ahead and seeing who he is! Space constraints here preclude a detailed analysis of the whole chart, but let’s quickly fly over the basic symbolism at a hundred thousand feet, snap a few pictures, and get an overview. The man is solar Libran, with its implications of relationship-orientation, aesthetic responsiveness, and balance. The Sun is in the fourth house, orienting the consciousness toward home and the inner life. Both of those gentle themes are further emphasized by his Cancerian Ascendant—which echoes the inwardness of the fourth house solar placement. That Cancer Ascendant also makes the Moon the ruler of the chart, further deepening, subjectifying and internalizing the consciousness. The predominance of the lunar theme also corroborates the domestic and nurturing motivations.

                With the Moon ruling the chart from the seventh house, there is again a Libra-like underscoring of empathy, attention to the other person, and a willingness and desire to get along with others. The chart-ruling Moon lies in Capricorn, adding cautious and responsible instincts, and introducing a paradoxical element of solitude into what is otherwise a very relationship-oriented birthchart. That jarring theme of solitude is pushed further when we see Saturn opposing his Sun from Aries—a sign it shares with Jupiter. Along with Pluto in Leo, that puts three planets in Fire—but the thrust of the chart by most standards would remain dominated by its gentler, milder elements. That interpretation is further bolstered when see sensitive, surrendering Neptune right on the fourth house cusp, underlying everything in the man’s psyche.

 

                              “MYSTERY MAN”

 

                Always in astrology we weigh contradictory testimony and come to balanced judgements. Certainly almost anyone practicing modern, psychological astrology would see this chart as representing a person who was moody and perhaps a little depressive, but fundamentally gentle and focused on the simple pleasures of the quiet, intimate life.

                Enter the karmic analysis, which clashes shockingly with all we have seen so far. The south node of the Moon lies in Aries on the cusp of the eleventh house.  For purposes of efficiency, we used this as an abstract example earlier in this article. There we saw it as  indicative of a “warrior” (Aries) operating in a “group context” (eleventh house)—thus suggesting a solider in an army. Saturn is conjunct the south node, which points at stoical, disciplined adaptation to a difficult, long-lasting, hard situation. All that imagery is again very consistent with embattled military circumstances.

                A concrete picture of a hungry, exhausted solider slogging through the mud of a long winter enters my mind.

                Mars rules the south node from Aquarius and the eighth house—the fabled House of Death. Facing mortality every day, and facing the reality of killing other human beings  too—all that leaps out, echoing and strengthening the warrior metaphor. And it leaps out in a uniquely Aquarian way, suggesting an emotional dissociation from the act of killing, as well as from the grind of endless (Saturn) mortal insecurity. Our Mystery Man faced yet another bone-chilling day in which he might die, just like yesterday and the day before. He shrugged his shoulders. He shot another figure at a distance and watched him fall. He shrugged his shoulders again. This quality of emotional distance is part of the Aquarian Shadow. To trigger it, all we need is some trauma—which warrior-Mars in the house of death provides. Being the ruler of the south node, this coldly traumatized Mars represents a fundamental dimension of our Mystery Man’s story.