“Reeking of Self-Confidence” — An Astro-Tarot Reflection
AUTHOR’S NOTE: There is a question I’ve been chewing on for more than 30 years, and with the aid of divination I think I’m getting close to an answer. One day back in the ’80s, a co-worker walked up to me with an enigmatic smile and said “You know, you reek of self-confidence.” I laughed it off as a wry back-handed compliment but it did give me pause to contemplate its merits.
At the time I was rapidly closing in on joining the ranks of middle management and I was making very few errors in judgment. I think now that he and his peers were locked into a “task-by-task” mentality whereas I was a “big-picture,” project-oriented guy who considered all the angles; they were comfortable in their niche and I guess I was showing them up. (There used to be a concept in union manufacturing shops known as “piece-work” where employees were paid according to how much they produced. Any hotshot who walked in and started cranking out a higher volume was ostracized for “breaking the rate” and was advised harshly of the error of his ways.) I’m convinced they had been talking about the white-collar version of this and my colleague was elected as the messenger. It was just the first of several more subtle affronts over the rest of my three decades there. But enough of the personal drama, I came here to talk about the contrary view of the matter shown by astrology and tarot.
A careful analysis of my natal horoscope reveals that, within the realm of the nine classical chart factors of greatest importance (Sun through Saturn, Ascendant and Midheaven), I’m almost entirely Water and Earth with no Air; only Jupiter and Saturn in Fire signs reflect a social posture that might be viewed as extremely self-assured (but I can guarantee that it’s only a fortuitous front). The presence of 1st-House Jupiter in Sagittarius, its primary sign of rulership, is the chief factor in furthering this impression, while Saturn in fixed Leo is inexorably goal-driven. (It’s also worth noting that they are in trine aspect, with Jupiter in Saturn’s decan and Saturn in Jupiter’s decan; talk about reinforcement!) But scratch the surface and you’ll find an introvert.
With this overall emphasis on signs of passive and negative polarity, I tend to be reserved and am usually reluctant to engage in ways that other people flaunt as evidence of an approachable and accommodating personality (that is, I refuse to “play the game,” I can’t muster a very ingratiating social-media presence, and I don’t maintain a mobile phone simply to be “reachable” at all times.) What amounts to an unwillingness to expose myself to unfiltered public scrutiny (and its potential for exploitation or embarrassment) must come across to others as habitually antisocial. I don’t mind being considered self-possessed, but my thoughtful comportment is anything but misanthropic (although there have been a few benighted souls who seem to find me intellectually overbearing and, to be honest, I sometimes resemble that remark because I have little tolerance for thick-headedness if it gets too personal).
The tarot landscape also deserves some study. (Note that I mainly use the Thoth deck, which substitutes Disks for RWS Pentacles, Knights for RWS Kings, and Princes for RWS Knights. All correspondences shown below are aligned with the Golden Dawn’s Chaldean zodiacal decanates.) The matrix of cards that is embodied in my birth chart is as follows. (Also recognize that I have an intercept that skews the house alignment.)
8th-House Sun in early Cancer: Chariot; 2 of Cups (Love); Queen of Cups
2nd-House Moon in early Capricorn: Devil; 2 of Disks (Change); Queen of Disks
8th-House Mercury in early Cancer: Same correspondences as the Sun
8th-House Venus in early Cancer: Same correspondences as the Sun
10th-House Mars in mid-Virgo: Hermit; 9 of Disks (Gain); Knight (King) of Disks
1st-House Jupiter in late Sagittarius: Art (Temperance); 10 of Wands (Oppression); Knight (King) of Wands
9th-House Saturn in mid-Leo: Lust (Strength); 6 of Wands (Victory); Prince (Knight) of Wands
Ascendant in late Scorpio: Death: 7 of Cups (Debauch); Knight (King) of Wands
Midheaven in early Virgo: Hermit; 8 of Disk (Prudence); Knight (King) of Disks
To break this down a bit (leaving the Major Arcana until last):
The binary Twos (of which there are four planetary iterations, 2 of Cups taken thrice and 2 of Disks once) are usually considered harmonious, but their operation emulates the swinging of a pendulum, so they can regularly be more than a little off-center in terms of attitudinal and behavioral consistency. In the current instance the focus is emotional with the pronounced Cancer emphasis on the Sun, Mercury and Venus at the most personal level, and pragmatic under the sway of the Moon in Capricorn, which I believe expresses “learning from experience.” I’ve been working on those challenges all my life, and my esoteric practices have helped tremendously in understanding the phenomenon.
The 9 of Disks is ruled by Venus, and bringing its counterpart, Mars, into the equation in the realm of Earth unites desire with an unquenchable appetite and capacity for gainful results: the old astrological aphorism is “Mars goes out and gets what Venus wants.” Suffice it to say that I’ve never had any trouble making money (at least before I retired): I earned it and my wife now manages (and spends) it.
The 10 of Wands is not an auspicious card, but the buoyancy of Jupiter in its own sign lightens the load. Because it is in the 1st House, it may display a natural insensitivity that is out-of-character for me (Jupiter is not the most tuned-in of planets and it can be crass without realizing it) so I will quickly rein in any tactlessness that manages to escape my lips. I have no intention of fostering false impressions, so my stone-faced Scorpio demeanor usually wins out; not much emerges from behind the mask unless I will it to.
The 6 of Wands, as an expression of Jupiter, spells triumph, and Saturn wants it on his own terms. Compromise is not in his vocabulary; once the challenge is clearly understood and accepted, I brook no interference when striving to master it, leaving no stone unturned. I’m not so much obsessive as very thorough-going in the fixed-sign, results-oriented manner of Leo
The 7 of Cups on the Ascendant accentuates the subtlety and craftiness of Scorpio, something I make no effort to hide, although I’m not normally mean-spirited about it (unless I’m crossed). It goes without saying that I’m indebted to the spirit of Machiavelli in my more contentious dealings, and the old fire-and-brimstone sermon that preaches “Chastise them according to their desserts” gets a lot of play from me. Both cheeks are well-scarred and I don’t have an unblemished one to turn. (I want to add that the RWS card’s mysterious atmosphere fits the speculative side of Scorpio perfectly; Crowley’s title does nothing for me since it suggests lewdness, which nobody in their right time would display in their 1st House during this highly-litigious era of social justice. Just ask any disgraced public figure.)
The 8 of Disks on the Midheaven with Mars near the angle suggests a level-headed technical career in which entrepreneurial aspects are prominent. Mars in my chart is “peregrine,” which means it makes no major Ptolemaic aspects and therefore “goes it alone” in 10th House business matters. Four of my management assignments in a 31-year career involved in-house entrepreneurial activities like planning, staffing and directing new departments. Conversely, Mars happens to enjoy an artistic quintile aspect to Venus in Cancer, bringing together the drive of Mars and the creativity of Venus in a productive way — I’m both an artist and a writer, but with that businesslike Mars in analytical Virgo, technical writing turned out to be my career path. The 8 of Disks typifies my expedient management style.
The two Queens (with the same distribution as the Twos) are patient and introspective (the Golden Dawn described all of the Queens as embodying “Brooding Power,” which I take to mean contemplative). The passive and negative polarity of Cups and Disks coupled with their poised feminine composure emphasize this quality of restraint, and it is one of my signature attributes.
The two Knights (RWS Kings), of which there are two astrological instances each, are defined as representing “Potential Power,” which I interpret as masculine strength held in abeyance; the Kings will choose to stay their hand where they might be expected to act forcefully. A friend once highlighted this tendency when he told me that, unlike another voluble person of our mutual acquaintance, “You think before opening your mouth.” I also stand back where fools — or immature Princes — might rush in. Elementally, the King of Wands and King of Disks are “complementary opposites” — one provides what the other lacks, in this case ambition on one hand and stability on the other.
The Prince (RWS Knight) of Wands is always looking for an opportunity to shine, and its placement in Leo is ideal even though its association with Saturn is a drag on its maneuverability. The Princes exemplify “Power in Action” but in this combination Saturn’s innate caution may ramp up the intensity while dialing back the fluid activation of said power, a recipe for frustration. Because it is in the 9th House, higher-mind pursuits can offer relief from the Saturnian inhibition (hence this blog and my daily online presence).
Among the Major Arcana, the key complexes are those between the Chariot and the Devil (representing the two “lights” plus Mercury and Venus), and between Death and the Hermit (encompassing the two primary angles of the horoscope and Mars). Of these four, which capture all of the “personal” planets and essential symbolic points, the Chariot as Cancer is the most prominent, with its complement — the Devil as Capricorn — second. Each is dominant in its field — one during the day and the other at night — and there is no mistaking their intentions; on the other hand, Death and the Hermit are both clandestine and, even though they occupy highly visible positions, they move in mysterious ways. The two Fire trumps are primarily concerned with the less-immediate social dimensions of Jupiter and Saturn, and don’t hold much interest for me. From a personal perspective I can work with Death and the Hermit as they epitomize my elusive public image, one that I plan to preserve, while the Chariot I allow to run at its own pace and the Devil I chain down in my Moon-fortress and torture with questions about God, Man and the inevitabilities of life: you know, death, taxes, the high price of groceries, human ignorance and political folly.
Originally published at http://parsifalswheeldivination.wordpress.com on September 19, 2024.
