It’s the time of Solstice–longest nights in the north, longest days in the south. The Sun stands still (what “solstice” means) for three days, a caesura, a natural pause that changes the rhythm, that tells us, something is different.
The Sun at 0º Capricorn squares the Nodes of the Moon, a place called “the bendings,” another kind of pause.
This Sun is moving toward the North Node in Aries, a point in the zodiac that will be very meaningful in the time ahead as both Saturn and Neptune complete their circuits of the zodiac to start again in the sign of cardinal Fire.
The title “Reckoning” came to mind for several reasons.
First, we’re in a liminal space. In the ancient Roman calendar, we’d be celebrating Saturnalia, that time-outside-time when positions of power reverse and nothing is “normal.”
We’re at a threshold in the sky, too, of course, with the Sun as far south as he’ll go, pausing, preparing to change direction. We’ve reached the bounds of the Sun, that place that keeps the other planets aligned with their “normal” purposes and goals–and marks the point beyond which they are out of bounds and run a bit wild.
Although our mundane calendar is no longer tied to the sky or the zodiac, we’re also reaching the end of our calendar year, a time when we review the recent past and consider the new year to come.
We’re reckoning where we’ve been and where we’regoing. In this liminal space, time itself becomes fluid. There are three ways we can experience time. Each one has relevance now.
The first kind is Saturnian. This is linear time. Saturn orients to the past, where there existed a Golden Age. The current time is less than, corrupted. We are in a slow holding action against entropy, inside a cosmic clock that inevitably runs down.
Saturnian time links us to discipline, hard work, responsibility, and clear goals. Without this, we drift and lose ourselves.
Astrology is Aeonic time, in which the cosmos is ordered in cycles. We move through multiple, overlapping, intersecting synodic cycles of planets, the Saros families of eclipses, the precession of the equinoxes.
Aeonic time is ongoing patterns of growth, decay, and transformation. Not sameness, because the cycles create new patterns as they intersect. We delight in the endless variety of life and trust it will continue, but may become complacent, feeling everything is taken care of and we need do nothing.
Within both kinds of time, we experience Kairos, the opportune moment, the surprise, the unexpected. Kairos emerges somehow not only from the intersection of the myriad Aeonic cycles, but also from the intersections of Saturnian and Aeonic time.
Kairos is the moment something changes, when magic happens. It can be oracular, prophetic, or a signal to act. The unexpected boon. A moment of grace.
At this Solstice, the Sun’s position at the bendings draws special attention to the quality of time. Where are we on our journeys?
In Saturn’s time, we’re a particular age, with achievements and disappointments behind us, and hopes, dreams, and fears for the time ahead.
In Aeonic time, we experience ourselves as beings that extend in directions beyond past and future. We sense other dimensions than the four we know.
Imagine standing inside the dark chamber of Newgrange in the Brú na Bóinne complex, watching as a shaft of bright light walks its way into the dark to illuminate the stone at the end of the passage. This is Kairos.
At each solstice monument around the world, we step from linear into magical time, participating in cycles celebrated for thousands of years, hoping for our own illumination.
If we’re prepared, if we’re receptive, we can experience our own Kairos moment.
There is not one way to do this. There are many traditions. What is most important is that we show up. We watch. We listen. We feel a shift.
Then we go on, renewed and strengthened.
May this happen for you.
Leave a Reply