The King of Cups and My Twin
When I went away to college. one of the great things that happened was
that I was able to finally form a real relationship/friendship with my
estranged father. My parents had divorced years earlier and to be honest, he
was basically a Sunday father to my brother and me. That said, I was aware of
why my parents divorced and what my father now did for a living. Nothing
nefarious, mind you, but things that were, out of the philosophical mainstream,
as it were. Many of you know the story but for those who don't...feel free
to read here. One of the things that my father did and counseled
people about was their astrological charts. He even did a chart for me!
According to him, my Sun was in the highest point in my astrological house. I
had no idea what that meant, but Dad said that it was the epitome of greatness
and huge things were in store for me in life. Well, now. Let's just say that I
think my father was being a Dad.
It wasn’t that I believed in astrology. In fact, I’d have taken pains to
tell you that I didn’t. But I was of the age when your identity is up for the
taking, and that central question — who am I? — needs probing from any angle
you can find. Zodiac signs struck me as part and parcel of that mania for
self-analysis. Knowing my sun sign was no more or less edifying than knowing my
IQ or whether or not I was more like Hamlet or Romeo. I knew these constructs
were probably nonsense, but as an endlessly confused 20-year-old, they helped
me feel seen.
Fast forward to today, and while I am as much a non-believer in astrology
as I was back then, it seems that all things zodiac-related are having a
moment. In a Pew Research study from 2018, 29% of American adults said they
believed in astrology, including 26% of Christians and 47% of those who
believed in “nothing in particular.” And those percentages have only gotten
higher in the last few years. If you were to ask people if they read their
horoscopes, or know their sun signs, the figure would surely be higher still.
The engagement is surely casual for some. But for rising millions, astrology
offers a connection with the divine — even if its empirical claims are just as
hard to prove.
Astrology has been popular for a long time, as far back as the ancient
Egyptians. But more recently, as far back as 2017, it was being declared “new
spirituality is the new norm”. That coincided (and still does) with a steady
fall in traditional religion in most parts of the world. In the UK’s 2021
census, less than half of British adults described themselves as Christian,
with over a third of respondents (“nones”) stating they had no religion
whatsoever. In the United States, in that same vein, we have been reading for
years about the decline in church attendance, along with a precipitous decline
in normative belief.
Of course, a shift away from religion doesn’t necessarily mean a shift
towards non-belief. In fact, many new spiritual fixations are being forged in
the crucible of online spaces. The “nones” haven’t signed up to living a life
devoid of purpose: what they want is to define that purpose in their own terms.
That’s where practices like astrology and tarot come in. Many of these
practices are billed less as “spiritual” and more as “therapeutic” — sitting
somewhere at the intersection of meaning-making and self-care. Introspection is
the name of the game here: even if you don’t believe there’s anything
inherently special about the cards you pull, or the planetary placements on
your birth chart, you might see them as a storyboarding tool. Think of them
like a kind of Rorschach test: “What does a Nine of Cups or Moon in Taurus mean
to me today?” Personally, I'm always hoping for the King of Cups to be turned
over! Get it? The King of Cups?! Pretty good, huh? You're a moron.
But for other astrology enthusiasts, there is something far grander at
stake here. If a Pisces really is absent-minded by default, and a Taurus
self-righteous, then that says something big and startling about the nature of
reality. It suggests that the various bodies in our solar system somehow
imprint on a baby’s psyche at the moment of their birth. And it means that
those lumps of rock and balls of gas, millions of miles away, have a bearing on
our day-to-day psychodramas. If that’s true, the paradigm most of us are
operating under is bust wide open.
“Astrology does raise philosophical or cosmological questions about the
world and about what we’re doing here and what this means,” says Chris Brennan,
host of The Astrology Podcast. “You know — does fate exist, or destiny?”
For Brennan, and others like him, astrology has both empirical
pretensions and clear philosophical or religious components too. Know your
history, and this isn’t so surprising. Until the 1700s, astrology was
considered a respectable scholarly discipline, with just as much validity as
astronomy. It was commonly accepted in political and cultural circles, and some
of its concepts were used in other fields, notably meteorology and medicine.
Brennan himself discovered astrology, alongside many other New Age
practices, in his early teens. While the crystals and tarot cards fell by the
wayside, his interest in astrology persisted, thanks to its having aspects he
could “validate” through repeated observations. Today, he remains convinced by
the basic premise: there’s a persistent correlation between celestial movements
and events on Earth. For instance, the last time Uranus popped up in Gemini
coincided with the Second World War, and the time before that was the American
Civil War. Many astrologers believe the planet’s forthcoming appearance in this
sign — which begins this summer, and will last until 2032 — will presage
another turning point in US history. That's me, baby! A Gemini! There's two of
me, and all bets are off! Good, lord...
Not that everyone in the astrological community takes their discipline so
literally. For the British astrologer Chris Odle, factual truth just isn’t part
of the deal. His essays pointed me to a trove of empirical data that, in his view,
sounds the death knell for astrology as a science. Consider the case of two
psychologists working in the Eighties. They arranged for volunteers to visit
top astrologers for a reading. The twist? They used the birth data of notorious
child serial killer John Wayne Gacy. Even so, astrologers failed to discern
anything untoward, with all five agreeing that the client should go into youth
work. Oops...!
Of course, many people do find their birth chart readings to be uncannily
accurate. But that might just be because they’re vague, couched in archetypes
that would resonate with just about anybody. Psychologists call this the
“Barnum effect” — named for the notorious showman P.T. Barnum. It describes our
tendency to take generalized personality descriptions and believe they apply to
us specifically.
Skepticism aside, I wonder whether checkmates ultimately miss the point.
As I myself discovered way back when, most astrology-curious people aren’t
really interested in what the data says; they care much more about what star
signs and the rest can say about how to live their lives, much like
Christianity and Judaism. After all, spiritual practices don’t need to be
empirically verifiable to be personally significant or subjectively true.
Again, just like more normative religions.
Odle concurs. He notes that some astrologers are paranoid about being
bracketed together with fortune tellers, and as such, cling to the idea that
astrology is a data-driven discipline. But, in his view, a lot of what
astrologers do is simple storytelling: far closer to the realm of religion than
science. Perhaps that is what needs to change if astrology wants to broaden its
appeal even further. Rather than making an intellectual case for its
convictions, perhaps practitioners should encourage a leap of faith. “There’s
something ineffable at the heart of it,” says Odle. “And that’s OK, because the
heart of life is ineffable. We can’t approach it with our minds.” So if
you're an absent-minded Pisces, you would be inclined to agree. And as I hold
on to my non-belief in most, if not all things religious, I'll keep the
astrological door ajar, as well as hang on to the King of Cups card and my
Gemini Twin. Hey, you never know!
Write to
Peter: magtour@icloud.com
Comments
Post a Comment