Being Chiron
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My Long Vacation from
Astrology and the New Way
It Works for Me
Until early 2009, I had been away
from astrology in any formal sense
since 2002, so I want to welcome
my old clients and colleagues and
share why I disappeared. I am a
reunion junkie. I have reconnected
with all the most significant lost
loves in my life over time. Here
I am, doing it again with astrology!
Whether you’ve known me in the
past or are a newcomer to this
site, a little context and history
are in order.
Astrology and the New Way
It Works for Me
Until early 2009, I had been away
from astrology in any formal sense
since 2002, so I want to welcome
my old clients and colleagues and
share why I disappeared. I am a
reunion junkie. I have reconnected
with all the most significant lost
loves in my life over time. Here
I am, doing it again with astrology!
Whether you’ve known me in the
past or are a newcomer to this
site, a little context and history
are in order.
The Ins and Outs of Joyce’s Astro Career
I first began studying astrology in 1980 with two excellent teachers
in the Sacramento Area, Gavin Carruthers and John Ruskell. I first met Donna
Cunningham at one of John and Gavin’s workshops, where she was the guest
instructor. She not only has been an ongoing mentor ever since in both
astrology and writing; she also introduced me to flower essences.
By 1988, I was ready to venture into the world of doing readings, which I
did in tandem with astrological writing, for the next two Saturn cycles—14
years. I took a couple breaks from it here and there, but I kept coming back.
The most surprising sabbatical occurred just after I hosted the Chironic
Convergence in Milina, Greece in 1996 near Mt. Pelion. It was in response
to a loud call from my inner guidance.
There were some heated dialogues between my invisible spiritual guidance
team and me. By the time I had created a Chironic learning experience with
18 seekers from around the world, I felt like I was at the peak of my
astrological career. My work was getting well known and respected.
“Stop now?”
Little did I know then that a dream I had on the way to Mt. Pelion, a few
months before the trip, was about to turn my life upside down. In it, my first
boyfriend (we met when we were 12) was the author of a popular book
about relationships. He was coming to town for a signing, and I was about to
see him for the first time since the ‘60s. In my night movie, he looked just
like the actor, Tim Robbins. Tim was also the actual first name of my first love.
Dreamwork was a part of my former Inner Growth Work practice, so I knew
this was a loaded dream. It was detailed—and I had written down every
word. Ironically, our travel agent in Greece was named Tim Smart. The
metaphors were loud. I had felt “robbed” of my boyfriend Tim, as kids, when
his mom forced him to break up with me. She was concerned we were too
young to be so serious. Tim “Robbins” made sense. So did Tim Smart.
It was time for me to get “Tim” smart.
It only took a mouse click to find “my” Tim with his unusual surname and the
interconnected directories on the Net. Born only 10 days apart, we had
everything in common that two close charts would predict. We exchanged
long letters, then phone calls, and soon visits. We went back and forth
between Sacramento and Dallas for only a few months before he decided
to move here. On Thanksgiving 1996, I followed my gut instinct and dream
path to find him. By the following Memorial Day, we had moved in together.
In August 1998, we married.
Juggling a full-time government career, a busy part-time astrology
practice,a new relationship with the then-recent loss of my dad was just too
much. More importantly, doing readings takes a lot out of me. The very
sensitivity that makes me a good astrologer is the same characteristic that
makes it a difficult job for me to do readings long-term. When I dipped back
into my star life for a year or so around the transitional time of the New
Millennium, I wrote a monthly column I was especially proud of called "Sky
Hints." But my personal sky hint was to put astrology on the back burner. I
knew my divine messengers meant it. Every time I tried to do otherwise, the
strain on my energy level made the point.
It was right conclusion for so long, I began to believe I’d never be back, even
as an astrological writer. Maybe no one is surprised but me!
Horse Sense/Centaur Sense
There was more to ending my practice than high sensitivity and juggler’s
fatigue. I was frustrated with certain aspects of astrology, namely the fact
that it is such a unique language; few people are fluent in it. I have a lot I
want to say to a broad audience as a writer. I didn’t want to leave out those
who don’t speak astrology. I felt a period of expansion coming on.
Another issue left me resigned to the cosmic nudge to let astrology go.
Astrologers tend to be very cerebral, so much so, I have been known to
retreat at astrology conferences with a splitting headache. I am a person
who already lives too much in her head. I wanted a balance between head,
heart, and the visceral experience of the astrological archetypes alive in my
life.
This dilemma reminds of a conversation I had last year with my ex-husband.
He told me he had qualified for Mensa. I was not surprised, but when it
comes to horse sense? Don’t ask! I wanted not just brilliance on the bridge
between Earth and Sky. I wanted horse sense—or centaur sense, in the case
of Chiron. I decided it was time to go out in the world and simply to "be" Chiron.
Here on “Mt. Pelion”
A lot has happened in the past six years since I exiled myself to an imaginary
Mt. Pelion, where I just go about my business and notice if anything strikes me
as astrologically significant. Most recently: I started missing many of my astro
friends. Aside from the few that are lifers, those I stay connected with whether
or not I’m doing astrology, I found myself reaching out to the colleagues I had
held dear but had not contacted in some time. Next, astrology started slipping
into the baby boomer blog I write. I was happy to see it!
Astrologer was only one of Chiron’s versatile talents. Astrology might not be
my primary focus, but it’ll always be one of my topics and tools. My true
mission is writing, and I can’t not write about astrology.
I only realized in pulling together my website that it is my own personal Mt.
Pelion, versatile and eclectic like Chiron. To limit myself to a single tool, as
a healer, or topic, as a writer, would limit healing and wholeness. The entire
point of having a medicine bag is to have everything you need to patch up the
nicks and bumps of life in a body. Playing the symbols is having an eye for
both diagnosis and the right tool or treatment for whole making.
As to how the rest of my life is Being Chiron, my husband has Chiron in the
First House—so, he “be” Chiron, too. (I guess that makes me both Chiron
and Chariclo, his wife--too complex to contemplate!) Tim has had a number
of health issues, including a milder form of muscular dystrophy, which is a
lot like an arrow in the thigh, if you ask me. This is especially (Ch)ironic,
since weak thigh muscles is how it most manifests.
The incredible pooch Tim brought into our marriage, Bear, had health
problems “aglore,” as my late, great, malapropping Mom used to say. I
have had plenty of opportunity to practice the Chironic healing arts at home,
especially during the last year in which we lost both Bear and my kitty boy
Darrin. Darrin was the love of my life as far as fur children go. We were so
close; it felt like he grew out of my thigh. And his total absorption of all the
love I could give and still want more? It healed all my Chironic wounds, even
as his loss reopened them.
My blog is a bridge between later-life wisdom, astrology and the esoteric
arts—probably even more eclectic than this website. My readers run the
gamut from traditionally religious to universally spiritual and everything in-
between. I'm sure it's also read by an occasional agnostic or atheist.
I mentor a teenage girl who is writing her first novel. I “give my gifts” to all
sorts of communities—my church, my former environmental agency part-
time as a retired annuitant, my Toastmasters Club, and my Sisters in
Crime writing group.
Eons ago, when I was a teenager, I had my first computerized astrology
chart done—something I still wish to this day I would find, by some miracle,
in an old box in my attic. Some of the info in it was priceless! One thing I’ll
never forget is the recommendation of where I’d feel the most comfortable
living. It said my house should face due north and be located high above
water.
That could describe anywhere in the vicinity of Mt. Pelion, Greece—or the
deck of my South-facing home in suburban Sacramento. The deck, which
faces northwest, if not due north, lies on the side of a hill, 12 feet above the
greenbelt below it, overlooking a creek. Deck Heaven is nestled in oak
trees and serenity.
I’m not sure I ever disMounted that half-horse!
© Joyce Mason, 2008-2010. All Rights Reserved.
Link freely, quote short passages, but please seek permission for all other uses of the
author's material.
I first began studying astrology in 1980 with two excellent teachers
in the Sacramento Area, Gavin Carruthers and John Ruskell. I first met Donna
Cunningham at one of John and Gavin’s workshops, where she was the guest
instructor. She not only has been an ongoing mentor ever since in both
astrology and writing; she also introduced me to flower essences.
By 1988, I was ready to venture into the world of doing readings, which I
did in tandem with astrological writing, for the next two Saturn cycles—14
years. I took a couple breaks from it here and there, but I kept coming back.
The most surprising sabbatical occurred just after I hosted the Chironic
Convergence in Milina, Greece in 1996 near Mt. Pelion. It was in response
to a loud call from my inner guidance.
There were some heated dialogues between my invisible spiritual guidance
team and me. By the time I had created a Chironic learning experience with
18 seekers from around the world, I felt like I was at the peak of my
astrological career. My work was getting well known and respected.
“Stop now?”
Little did I know then that a dream I had on the way to Mt. Pelion, a few
months before the trip, was about to turn my life upside down. In it, my first
boyfriend (we met when we were 12) was the author of a popular book
about relationships. He was coming to town for a signing, and I was about to
see him for the first time since the ‘60s. In my night movie, he looked just
like the actor, Tim Robbins. Tim was also the actual first name of my first love.
Dreamwork was a part of my former Inner Growth Work practice, so I knew
this was a loaded dream. It was detailed—and I had written down every
word. Ironically, our travel agent in Greece was named Tim Smart. The
metaphors were loud. I had felt “robbed” of my boyfriend Tim, as kids, when
his mom forced him to break up with me. She was concerned we were too
young to be so serious. Tim “Robbins” made sense. So did Tim Smart.
It was time for me to get “Tim” smart.
It only took a mouse click to find “my” Tim with his unusual surname and the
interconnected directories on the Net. Born only 10 days apart, we had
everything in common that two close charts would predict. We exchanged
long letters, then phone calls, and soon visits. We went back and forth
between Sacramento and Dallas for only a few months before he decided
to move here. On Thanksgiving 1996, I followed my gut instinct and dream
path to find him. By the following Memorial Day, we had moved in together.
In August 1998, we married.
Juggling a full-time government career, a busy part-time astrology
practice,a new relationship with the then-recent loss of my dad was just too
much. More importantly, doing readings takes a lot out of me. The very
sensitivity that makes me a good astrologer is the same characteristic that
makes it a difficult job for me to do readings long-term. When I dipped back
into my star life for a year or so around the transitional time of the New
Millennium, I wrote a monthly column I was especially proud of called "Sky
Hints." But my personal sky hint was to put astrology on the back burner. I
knew my divine messengers meant it. Every time I tried to do otherwise, the
strain on my energy level made the point.
It was right conclusion for so long, I began to believe I’d never be back, even
as an astrological writer. Maybe no one is surprised but me!
Horse Sense/Centaur Sense
There was more to ending my practice than high sensitivity and juggler’s
fatigue. I was frustrated with certain aspects of astrology, namely the fact
that it is such a unique language; few people are fluent in it. I have a lot I
want to say to a broad audience as a writer. I didn’t want to leave out those
who don’t speak astrology. I felt a period of expansion coming on.
Another issue left me resigned to the cosmic nudge to let astrology go.
Astrologers tend to be very cerebral, so much so, I have been known to
retreat at astrology conferences with a splitting headache. I am a person
who already lives too much in her head. I wanted a balance between head,
heart, and the visceral experience of the astrological archetypes alive in my
life.
This dilemma reminds of a conversation I had last year with my ex-husband.
He told me he had qualified for Mensa. I was not surprised, but when it
comes to horse sense? Don’t ask! I wanted not just brilliance on the bridge
between Earth and Sky. I wanted horse sense—or centaur sense, in the case
of Chiron. I decided it was time to go out in the world and simply to "be" Chiron.
Here on “Mt. Pelion”
A lot has happened in the past six years since I exiled myself to an imaginary
Mt. Pelion, where I just go about my business and notice if anything strikes me
as astrologically significant. Most recently: I started missing many of my astro
friends. Aside from the few that are lifers, those I stay connected with whether
or not I’m doing astrology, I found myself reaching out to the colleagues I had
held dear but had not contacted in some time. Next, astrology started slipping
into the baby boomer blog I write. I was happy to see it!
Astrologer was only one of Chiron’s versatile talents. Astrology might not be
my primary focus, but it’ll always be one of my topics and tools. My true
mission is writing, and I can’t not write about astrology.
I only realized in pulling together my website that it is my own personal Mt.
Pelion, versatile and eclectic like Chiron. To limit myself to a single tool, as
a healer, or topic, as a writer, would limit healing and wholeness. The entire
point of having a medicine bag is to have everything you need to patch up the
nicks and bumps of life in a body. Playing the symbols is having an eye for
both diagnosis and the right tool or treatment for whole making.
As to how the rest of my life is Being Chiron, my husband has Chiron in the
First House—so, he “be” Chiron, too. (I guess that makes me both Chiron
and Chariclo, his wife--too complex to contemplate!) Tim has had a number
of health issues, including a milder form of muscular dystrophy, which is a
lot like an arrow in the thigh, if you ask me. This is especially (Ch)ironic,
since weak thigh muscles is how it most manifests.
The incredible pooch Tim brought into our marriage, Bear, had health
problems “aglore,” as my late, great, malapropping Mom used to say. I
have had plenty of opportunity to practice the Chironic healing arts at home,
especially during the last year in which we lost both Bear and my kitty boy
Darrin. Darrin was the love of my life as far as fur children go. We were so
close; it felt like he grew out of my thigh. And his total absorption of all the
love I could give and still want more? It healed all my Chironic wounds, even
as his loss reopened them.
My blog is a bridge between later-life wisdom, astrology and the esoteric
arts—probably even more eclectic than this website. My readers run the
gamut from traditionally religious to universally spiritual and everything in-
between. I'm sure it's also read by an occasional agnostic or atheist.
I mentor a teenage girl who is writing her first novel. I “give my gifts” to all
sorts of communities—my church, my former environmental agency part-
time as a retired annuitant, my Toastmasters Club, and my Sisters in
Crime writing group.
Eons ago, when I was a teenager, I had my first computerized astrology
chart done—something I still wish to this day I would find, by some miracle,
in an old box in my attic. Some of the info in it was priceless! One thing I’ll
never forget is the recommendation of where I’d feel the most comfortable
living. It said my house should face due north and be located high above
water.
That could describe anywhere in the vicinity of Mt. Pelion, Greece—or the
deck of my South-facing home in suburban Sacramento. The deck, which
faces northwest, if not due north, lies on the side of a hill, 12 feet above the
greenbelt below it, overlooking a creek. Deck Heaven is nestled in oak
trees and serenity.
I’m not sure I ever disMounted that half-horse!
© Joyce Mason, 2008-2010. All Rights Reserved.
Link freely, quote short passages, but please seek permission for all other uses of the
author's material.
Astrologer
was only
one of
Chiron’s
versatile
talents.
was only
one of
Chiron’s
versatile
talents.
| Views from my personal Mt. Pelion |
