As a relative newbie astrologer in 1976, I encountered the brilliant compilation Astrophysical Directions by Michael and Margaret Erlewine. I felt like I was living above the Arctic Circle. The Sun may have shined 24/7, I don’t know. I didn’t sleep in forever while devouring this book. About the same time I encountered Theodor Landschiedt’s work on the Galactic Center in Cosmic Cybernetics. Instantly, I became a fan of galactic astrology and the necessity of considering the entirety of the sky.
It’s funny how it goes. For years I discussed, observed and researched the effects of the Galactic Center. Few cared. During the 80’s Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune all passed the ecliptical degree of the Galactic Center. Interest in this fascinating point hardly increased. But within the last eighteen months, Pluto passed by the Galactic Center. Finally astrologers came around. Not all astrologers, mind you, but some. So it takes Pluto the scare people sufficiently as to consider new effects?
Astrologers said things about galactic points being so far away, sounding much like hard fact folks declaring that Pluto was too small and too distant to render any possible impact. Some contended that our fluorocarbons had not weakened our atmosphere sufficiently to give a green light to galactic radiation passage. But late last century we observed photons from a non solar source (Super Nova 1987A) passing right through sensors in Lake Erie. And when we learned to detect gamma rays, we realized that eruptions of the fascinating objects known as SGR’s – Soft Gamma Ray Repeaters – typically whack out our satellites and cell phones, which explains why such things can happen when Mercury is not retrograde.
Commencing in 2003, astronomers began discovering larger – relatively speaking – bodies at the presumed edge of our solar system. When the body now known to be Eris came to light, it was immediately evident that she was larger than Pluto. Uh-oh. It’s the strangest phenomenon. While astrologers do not want Pluto downgraded, or plutoed to dwarf planet status, they resist the inclusion of Eris, goddess of discord. Maybe it’s arguable, based upon size, that dwarf planets Makemake and Haumea do not deserve planetary consideration despite their rich, potentially transformational mythologies and natures. At the beginning of our time with Eris, one astronomer suggested that because of her inclination of 44 degrees she did not spend enough time in the plane of the ecliptic to receive planetary status. Really? What’s wrong with looking up and down? Do not objects higher and/or lower in the sky affect us as they make some combination of connections along x, y and z axes?
Like it or not, the ever-expanding reality for astrologers is Ceres, Eris, Makemake and Haumea are dwarf planets. Pluto and Charon orbit the Sun as a binary dwarf planet system. Eris is likely a dwarf planet though she does not yet officially bear that label. Mike Brown, co-discoverer of Sedna, Eris, Makemake and Haumea, contends that in the realm where Sedna orbits there may be another sixty objects. Of these bodies a handful could be large enough to be dwarf planets. More amazingly, the upward speculations applied by the Gemini astronomer that he cautions against using indicate there may be an object out there in orbit around our Sun and larger than Mars.
Clearly a male bias exists when considering planetary bodies. How massive a body is and the breadth of its diameter indicate potential planetary status. What about density and the relative gravitational influence of a body? Sure Jupiter is big, but relative to Ceres or Eris his density is nil. Isn’t this something like sitting down for a good meal and considering only the presentation and smell while ignoring taste and texture of food?
Given that astrologers claim to lead on the outer edges of forward thinking consciousness, shouldn’t they be able to overcome the bad taste new discoveries leave in their mouths and consider the whole sky?