SATURN: GUARDIAN OF OUR TRUE POTENTIAL
by Mark Jones
Continuing our exploration of the therapeutic potential of astrology, we’ll now
turn to the Saturn archetype. Saturn is fundamental in the formation of a
unique personality, an ego, or sense of separate self. In highlighting crucial
turning points in the developmental process of the personal self, we’ll look at
many of the key counseling dynamics possible within an astrology reading. To
understand Saturn is to understand the fundamental boundaries of the personal
self and therefore what is both approved
of and what is pushed out of
awareness. It is fundamental to creating successful therapeutic dialogue to
create a safe space where the client can explore this interior material that
has been denied, shamed or pushed aside.
Freud
was both fascinated and vexed by the principle of limitation that seemed to
capture people's sense of identity; rather as if the “wind had changed” after
their childhood years, and they were left with a static personality for both
good and ill. Jung spoke of the cost of creating a personal self—pushing into
the shadows everything excluded from one’s experience, rather like the dark
side of the Moon. In its opposition to the Moon/Cancer archetype,
Saturn/Capricorn acts as the principle boundary that allows the personality to
form as a distinct and separate entity. The personality is symbolized
astrologically by the conditioned self (the Moon) as a focal point expressing
the personal planets. It is then fashioned by the structural principle of
Saturn.
Saturn
symbolizes the principle of structure. This can refer to a family, a society or
civilization, and to the very way that we structure our own consciousness.
Saturn
bridges the experiences of the personal self and the transpersonal self. The
personal self is expressed through the inner planets within the layers of the
unconscious and epitomized through the conditioned self, the “I” (the Moon). The
transpersonal self is held in potential by the outer planets. Saturn is a
critical factor in determining the structure of our consciousness and the
strength of the self, as Saturn is the mediator between personal and
transpersonal worlds.
The Nature of the Boundary
The nature of boundary is critical to understanding the role of Saturn. To a
disempowered self that has not yet opened up to the riches of the unconscious,
and of the self as supportive parent to the “I,” the apparent boundaries of the
personal self can seem all too concrete and fixed. The relationship of the
personal self to the collective can appear to be set in stone until one
achieves greater awareness.
Conversely,
from the perspective of the outer planets—the power of the deep self, operating
through the unconscious and through the developing I/Self relationship—something
seemingly rigid and unmoving in fact represents an increasingly flexible and
interactive opportunity. This point is developed elegantly in Ken Wilber’s book
No Boundary, which describes multiple
states of consciousness embedded as layers within the human psyche. Each layer
is experienced as progressively reaching towards the realizations expressed
most clearly by the Buddhists as the emptiness of the “ultimate identity.” This
ultimate identity is actually a luminous formless awareness from which certain
states arise. If we identify with those states, they appear to have boundaries
and phases of expression; yet, underlying all of them is a primordial awareness
within which there is no boundary.
Saturn’s Shadow
Donald Winnicott once defined maturity as the
capacity to handle paradox. [i]
To the immature psyche, life appears to be black or white. However, the
increasing capacity to integrate experience reveals that life really exists in
all shades of all colors. Misunderstood or un-integrated, Saturn can cast a
pallid shadow over the individual life with the belief “I am right and everyone
else is wrong.”
I have had clients stuck in a negative Saturn fantasy who fear that they are
abnormal, doomed, a train wreck; one whom everyone else has overlooked. In this
fantasy, everyone else is “normal,” while they believe they exist alone under a
dark cloud of “wrong, sick and hopeless.”
One
client, in her early thirties, had the belief that life had already passed her
by. She was born with Saturn in Leo retrograde on the I.C., t-square
to Jupiter and Uranus. Some people with Saturn in Leo tend toward total
identification with the extremes of what they perceive as good or bad. In this
polarization, life can feel amazing: the person feels especially creative and
things are moving in a positive direction. And then, when there is even a
slight criticism, the self-identification (Saturn/structure combined with
Leo/self) with that criticism is so strong that the person experiences it as a
direct attack on her self-identity, and she falls into a downward spiral of
despair and often self-deprecation.
Some
may take an even more drastic version of the split, believing that they are
light and only other people are shadowy. One client’s father with this pattern actually
refers to himself as “perfect” and this is a moniker used frequently within the
family, without irony. In his work Madness
Explained, clinical psychologist Richard P. Bentall
shares evidence from statistical clinical surveys showing that depressed people
score more highly on certain self-reflective exercises than do people who are
not depressed! Bentall makes the point that the
healthy individual tends towards a subtly inflated self-image. This inflation
can become extreme self-delusion when one denies one’s shadow; that one can
make mistakes is in evidence. A mature expression of the Saturn archetype includes
an acceptance that one is not perfect, no matter how hard one tries.
The
Saturn function reveals that our suffering and failings have a place in our
journey towards wholeness—that in themselves, they contain the seeds of real
self-knowledge. Bentall's work acknowledges that in
“depressing” our ego inflation, Saturn reveals a difficult but more accurate
truth. Without the capacity to face the difficult awareness of our limitations,
we may become prey to the perfection delusion of the sort held by my client's
father. The cost of this denial of our humanity is high. His family tries to
live up to an impossible myth of following the “perfect” lead of an imperfect
man. This led to alcoholism in the case of my client's sibling. My client moved
to the other end of the continent in order to gain perspective and avoid a
similar fate.
Blaming Fate Instead of Owning
Saturn Material
“The roles and expectations, the shadow of Saturn, rest heavily on us all. We
can continue to blame ‘them’ – those who mysteriously invented and
institutionalized all of this – but then nothing will change. We can no longer
wait for something to change ‘out there’ . . . we must change ourselves. All
change starts within . . . but we . . . often have trouble internalizing our
experience. So the task is difficult, but it is far preferable to living
forever under Saturn’s shadow.” – James Hollis [ii]
Hollis’ point of how we attempt to offload our
undeveloped Saturn function is universal. Jung observed that what we are unable
to own within our conscious self will come back via our unconscious self in the
form of “fate,” events in the outer world, or embodied in others.
One classic stance of the young idealist is to blame all the world’s woes on
the “Man,” that shadowy, often corporate Wizard of Oz who manipulates the
machinery of state. Now, this problem is a complex one, because as the old
adage says, just because you are paranoid does not mean that they are not out
to get you! So let’s hold that in mind as we look at the bigger picture. Like
many other figures, Timothy Leary really was tailed by the FBI for years. What many
thought was simply his “stoner paranoia” was, in fact, real. In 2012, the
realization that the world’s banking system is rigged and that the world is run
on “casino economics,” as Morris Berman suggests, is genuine. [iii]
But to project all the unresolved
issues in the world onto the bankers is psychologically naïve.
When we’re caught in Saturn’s shadow, we are unable to see our own complicity,
or accept our own role in whatever plagues us. It’s much easier to point
outside, to blame an enemy. But there is no one all-powerful enemy, no “Man”
per se—just a lot of men and women operating within the parameters that they
have set within their lives. Saturn is
about taking personal responsibility. Certainly, there are difficult issues
in the world that individuals and governments need to approach with integrity,
letting people’s needs guide their mandates and actions. That’s part of the
Saturn process—working with structures, and creating systems that offer
positive support (as opposed to negative or fear-based support). But people drain
energy from their personal centers of power when they blame others for the limiting
conditions of their lives rather than accepting a fair share of responsibility
for their lot.
Saturn in the Family
Saturn is often present in our formative experiences—childhood messages from
family and schooling shape the nascent identity through our response to imposed
structure and feedback, whether encouraging or problematic. In youth, we yearn
for a positive expression of the Saturn archetype via parents, teachers and
role models who embody authority mediated by love. Many young people search a
long time for this rare quality, with potentially lifelong consequences if the
need is not met.
In a healthy and supportive family, the child naturally wishes to stand out, to
shine and experience the glow of appreciation from an appreciative audience
(Leo/Sun). A friend’s 3-year-old child has, since age 2, wanted everything to
be pink; she has a wardrobe of princess dresses and slip-on shoes. Her mother
dresses soberly and cannot abide pink, but she supports her daughter’s
self-expression. The joy in this little girl when she shows an assembled
company her favorite princess outfit, tiara and all, is something to behold.
In
an abusive dysfunctional family, to stand out is to become a potential target
(Aquarius/Uranus opposite Leo/Sun). When being noticed results in verbal,
emotional, physical or sexual abuse, there is an additional survival advantage
in remaining unseen. Instead of naturally developing gifts or talents to be
shared, some abused young people become masters of invisibility to minimize the
survival threat from the abusive parental authority.
We can note two main types of family trauma: the intense impact event (physical
violence or sexual molestation), or trauma that develops through duration or
repetition. In the latter, seemingly mild verbal commentary can be harmful when
reinforced over time. For example, slightly negative words about a child’s
weight or intelligence, or the often-repeated family story “you got the brains
while your sister got the looks.” Repetition causes the child to assume
validity of the harmful message. In a worse-case scenario, both forms of trauma
are combined in the form of intense impact events that are repeated routinely,
which can lead to very complex and deep-seated traumatic wounding.
The tipping point for a dysfunctional family is linked to the degree of
narcissistic injury present in the parent. This is based not only on the kinds
of difficult childhood experience that the parents may have suffered, but also
the degree to which they have been able to ameliorate that suffering through
their adult relations, critically with the other parent. Much pain is inflicted
on children through the failure of the parental relationship to establish and
maintain a loving or even simply supportive foundation. For more insight on
this dynamic, see John Bradshaw’s Bradshaw
On: The Family.
Narcissistic Injury and the
Impossible Dilemma
The
term “narcissistic injury” refers to the level at which we have experienced a
failure of care or healthy mirroring in our early childhood. Each of us has
some degree of narcissistic injury from experiences when our primary caregivers
failed to understand us or support our true nature. This is inevitable in even
the most loving of families, and indeed, provides very useful evolutionary lessons
to the developing psyche, since many environments later in life will be more
hostile than the basically supportive and loving family home.
This
gray area can turn into clear dysfunction when we move from unwitting failure
to mirror or support the needs of a child, to a profound lack of connection
with that child. Donald Winnicott used the term “good
enough” for the kind of parenting that maintains enough contact with the
fundamental part of the child’s identity to avoid dysfunction. When such
contact is not good enough, the child
is left with a near-impossible dilemma: either the parent is failing the child (which
in early infancy can even lead to death since the parent at this stage is key
to survival), or the child is failing to elicit the right responses from the
parent.
Many children opt for internalizing
the problem as “their fault” so as not to face the unbearable anxiety of the devastating
parental failure.
This
complex is instrumental in the creation of the idealized or false self,
in which the child makes increasingly acrobatic attempts to generate the
desired parental response—all the while having to deny the increasingly evident
lack within the parent’s capacity to care.
The Core Saturn Wound
The
failure of parental care can, in and of itself, lead to what we could term the child’s individuation crisis. The developing
child must recognize that to grow as an individual, she will have to
symbolically (and sometimes literally) step over the parent’s body on her path.[CCC1] At this stage, “all progress is
accompanied by guilt,” writes Bert Hellinger, the
originator of Family Constellation work. This shadow is cast by the unresolved
Saturn principle within the family. The parent is unable to balance authority
with love and so the child faces a struggle, much of which remains unconscious,
to claim her own power in a fashion mediated by love or basic compassion.
It
is no surprise, then, to find that the child who is a bully at school is
bullied at home. These imbalances between authority and love, the core Saturn
wound, can remain operational within family systems for generations.
Even
as an adult, an individual may struggle to emerge from under the shadow cast by
the parent. To identify that shadow is the first step of integrating the dark
side of the Saturn archetype. Key components involve shame about what was not
acceptable in the parental reality and then guilt in seeking to overcome that
reality. To finally emerge victorious from the influence of the parental shadow
is the first real step toward individuation.
The Great Betrayal
“Not being seen for what we truly are has led
to a betrayal of this preciousness that is our essential core. We come to
understand that we became false because the people in our early environment not
only did not see and support our true self, but wanted us to be something else.
They conditioned us to fit their idea of what we are or what we should be. The
feeling of betrayal that accompanies our realization of this development is one
of the ways in which we experience the narcissistic wound. We may experience
the betrayal whenever we feel not seen or appreciated for who and what we are.”
- A.H. Almaas [iv]
Almaas is articulating the
powerful way that the pain we feel when let down by another resonates
profoundly with the earliest failures in our familial relationship. If we have
not done work around these issues, their symptoms can take us by surprise. A
simple disconnect with someone not making eye contact while we’re talking to
them could provoke a “bigger than appropriate” reaction if underlying hurts are
still needing our attention.
In
my therapy training I was given an exercise in which I was acting as the
counselor to a colleague in a real session, with the only rule being that I was
not allowed to make eye contact. My partner soon became frustrated and angry
with me and refused to share any more. Even though she was fully aware of the
requirements of the exercise, she could not contain her frustration, it was so
triggering. Such a simple exercise, and yet so revealing.
Almaas brings a powerful
spiritual insight to his analysis of the psychodynamic processes of early childhood;
he observes that even within the most loving and supportive of families, there
is a failure to understand the essence
or spiritual core of the child. As a result, disillusionment may occur even in
the most wonderful home setting when the profound depths of one’s own being are
inevitably unacknowledged or sidestepped.
“We became what they
wanted us to be, what they paid attention to in us… Through this process of
accommodation, we abandoned and rejected what they could not see, the parts of
us they did not relate to. Since our essence was the element they recognized or
understood least, our essence was the central element we disowned. We ended up
abandoning and hiding our most precious nature. We hid it finally from
ourselves, most of us eventually forget it all together.” [v]
Furthermore,
Almaas recognizes that any deep therapeutic or
spiritual work requires us to re-experience those developmental failures and
the hurt of the loss of relationship implicit within them, if we wish to connect
with our true selves, now.
This
is the struggle that we all face when we grow up—to remember our essence, our
true nature, and then have the courage and integrity to live that nature; to
truly be.
Saturn and the Super-ego
Saturn
recycles pain to the extent that it conditions us through the repression
function, with particular emphasis on the libido, the sexuality, Eros or
life-joy. The threat of shame is present if these essential creative functions
are expressed in a way deemed inappropriate by the “authorities” around us.
“…many of the highly
valued assets of our civilization were acquired at the cost of sexuality and by
the restriction of sexual motive forces.” - Sigmund Freud [vi]
Freud
notes the harnessing of repression as a crucial component of empire building
(the shadow of Imperialism that underpins two world wars) only a few pages after
dreaming of a world where children are allowed more free play. To place such
ideas in their context, we may consider the words of Jacques Barzun in From Dawn to Decadence. Here he writes on
the 19th-century relationship to sexuality and repression:
“It
is . . . a mistake to think that ‘the Victorians’ in their pursuit of a
purified life became blind to sexual realities. To ignore does not mean to be
ignorant of; on the contrary the effort heightens awareness. Hence the verbal
absurdities of 19th Century moralism that were devised to conceal
facts and drive away wrong thoughts. The body and its parts must not be
mentioned; even a piano was debarred from having legs. The parallels today are
the words used to conceal bodily and mental infirmities and spare their
victims; it has been held that ‘hard of hearing’ is an offensive phrase.” [vii]
Putting
Freud in this cultural context in which he matured, we see a world of double entendres,
of hidden meanings concealing truths of a sexual nature. On this level, Freud’s
opus is a guidebook to translating and revealing the era’s conventions of
language and behavior to reintroduce the missing sexual components. It is no
wonder that Freud appeared to be so radical when we take into account these
restrictive social mores.
We
can see then that this quality of policing piano legs, language, and even in
principle our very private thoughts, forms the material of Freud’s super-ego. This
controlling principle is at best the voice of conscience, at worst the inner
dictator of consciousness given to creating a potentially punishing regimen for
the ego. The Moon is astrologically opposite the voice of authority in Saturn,
the Super-ego.
Crime and Punishment
Saturn
relates to the societal forces that are punitive. In a pure Saturnian
framework, the punishment suits the crime. Justice is “an eye for an eye.” Of
course, in reality, punishment for wrongdoing is more complex. Let’s look at a
story of crime and punishment that took place 400 years ago:
“It
is Tuesday, 10 March 1612…a routine criminal case. An unmarried man and woman
have been arrested… they are accused of having had sex together. The woman
confesses. The man denies it. It does not take long to decide their fate. They
are put on trial before a jury of men, interrogated and found guilty. Their
punishment reflects the heinousness of their crime: not only did they have sex,
they have brought into the world a bastard child. For this Susan Perry and
Robert Watson are to be cut off from their homes, their friends, their families,
their livelihoods – to be forever expelled from the society from which they
live. The Judges order them to be taken directly ‘to the prison of the
Gatehouse; and both of them to be stripped naked from the waist upwards; and so
tied to the cart’s tail and to be whipped from the Gatehouse in Westminster
unto Temple Bar; and then and there to be presently banished from the city.’ What
happened to their baby is not recorded.” - Faramerz Dabhoiwala [viii]
Apart
from the brutality—the sadistically intimate punishment and complete
abandonment forced upon these two poor beings (with seemingly no care for the
life their “terrible” act has produced)—what stands out most from this
description and court transcripts is the routine nature of the proceedings. This
is just “another day at the office” for the judges and jury.
Although
we’ve evolved since then, this kind of injustice still takes place in our
world. In present-day Afghanistan, a couple were recently publicly beheaded for
having eloped together: in effect brutally killed for being in love. In Britain
there are routine cases of “honor killings”—a recent example being a young
Muslim woman raped by an uncle and then murdered by her father and brother for
the “stain” her loss of virginity had brought upon the family.
Of
course, the original crime lying behind many of these events is the religious
one: hence, the excessive value placed on virginity as a symbol of the
unblemished soul. In Christian cultures, the original crime is that of Eve’s in
the garden. We are “suitably” punished then as carriers of the original sin.
These
events symbolize the externally punitive
impact of the distorted Saturn principle. They concern us because they carry
such weight within the collective unconscious. In terms of the life of the psyche,
the brutal and routine events of 400 years ago are still recent memories. We
can carry imprints of such events through reincarnational
memory within the deepest emotional aspect of the psyche (Pluto). These
imprints can also be left on the subtle mind (Uranus). We carry them as aspects
of the collective unconscious (Neptune) that we emotionally (Pluto) and
mentally (Uranus) identify within our core selves
Inner Tyranny
In
An Outline of Psychoanalysis, Freud
writes, “It is a remarkable thing that the super-ego often displays a severity
for which no model has been provided by the real parents, and moreover that it
calls the ego to account not only for its deeds but equally for its thoughts
and unexecuted intentions, of which the super-ego seems to have knowledge.” [ix]
Freud
wrote this in his early eighties while in the final stages of a painful throat
cancer (exacerbated by his beloved cigars) during his exile in England. His
words[CCC2] articulate his troubled sense of the power
of the internal super-ego function to outdo the punitive behavior of the actual
parental imprint. The passage’s inclusion near the end of Freud’s last book
indicates the significance he ascribed to this observation.
Certainly
I have experienced this question during a session: what is the source of the ferocity that my client
feels toward himself? A basically good person, who would not treat any other
living soul with such malice, can justify treating himself badly because of a deeply
internalized dynamic of shame and guilt. It is as if he has created an inner being
just to attack himself. But why?
In
The Inner World of Trauma: Archetypal
Defenses of the Personal Spirit, Donald Kalsched
shows us how, in the name of self-defense, traumatized aspects of the psyche
can develop into self-traumatizing monsters. This happens when energy that is
supposed to be directed towards defending
against future trauma instead begins to attack the self that was being
protected. In the psyche, the very nature of this protective inner army is to fight,
and if we don’t dismantle it after an appropriate battle, it can turn its
energy inwardly, waging battle on the self. Kalsched
writes, “Trauma doesn’t end with the cessation of outer violation, but
continues unabated in the inner world of the trauma victim, whose dreams are
often haunted by persecutory inner figures.” [x]
He
also makes the point that those subject to psychological trauma often find
themselves encountering those same kinds of traumatic life situations again and
again. Even when a traumatized person makes an effort to change and better her
outward circumstances, there seems to be some inner process that simultaneously
undermines her efforts. He writes, “It is as though the persecutory inner world
somehow finds its outer mirror in repeated self-defeating ‘re-enactments’—almost
as if the individual were possessed
by some diabolical power or pursued by a malignant fate.” [xi]
We
might identify this as misdirected persecutory Saturn energy. The energy wants
to go somewhere but isn’t being properly directed. What’s more, the source of
these traumas and the inner tyranny that arises in response can stem from
past-life experience, making it even harder to identify and treat. These show
up in the present life as unresolved karmic complexes around power, personal
self-expression (including sexual expression) and experiences of familial and
societal punishment. In Understanding
Karmic Complexes, Patricia Walsh describes past-life regressions that show
specific prior-life traumas underpinning current-life psychological blocks or
phobias as the weight of personal and collective memories of punishment.
When
it comes to healing and finding the right time to change these kinds of
patterns, there is no easy recipe. I have witnessed clients who show up ready
for change. The change then manifests within our conscientiously held space,
created just for that purpose, and is an unfolding of what was already poised
to unfold. All that was needed was the right intentional space in which to
allow the process.
For
others, years of committed work will produce only limited results. Of course,
we must respect that the damage some people are healing from is very severe. So
patience, a high-functioning Saturnian energy, also applies here. Knowing that as an
astrologer, you may only see your client once, it would be useful to learn how
to recognize this pattern and at the end of the session, if appropriate,
suggest the client consider ongoing counseling to help dismantle the inner
tyrant.
Still,
even in the presence of clients who have endured the most difficult
circumstances, we can create a healing context in which the inner tyranny
abates almost miraculously. This teaches us that at the heart of the therapeutic
project, there is a mysterious grace that none of us can own or control. The
lesson here is to set the stage appropriately, make a concerted effort, have
patience when required, and trust grace to show up when the time is right.
Moving Past Judgments
Within
the mysterious rhythm of healing, we can observe a general principle that
applies equally to the one-time astrological reading and to long-term
therapeutic work:
To the extent that the client is
undermined by a punitive Saturnian superego, the
counselor, as his guide, needs to facilitate a compassionate space in which the
client’s hypercritical voice can be sufficiently quieted to enable him to
explore the nature of his true potential free of internal tyranny.
The key
to a fruitful therapeutic encounter is to provide a safe enough space for the
superego’s punishing voice to subside sufficiently for the individual to
contemplate her life without the imprisoning “should” and “not good enough”
that otherwise cloud the inner sky so much as to obscure the light of the radiant
inner Sun.
All
client work, whether astrological or psychotherapeutic, must pay homage to
Saturn. If this initial requirement is not met and the client does not feel
safe enough, the danger is that the whole encounter is filtered through her pre-existing
negativity. During a one-time natal chart reading, this concern is heightened
and especially important to notice. If not properly addressed, a client’s
negative super-ego may block her from taking in healing messages from the
reading so effectively that she is prevented from gaining the benefit that she
needs in order to grow. Even the best-intentioned messages on the part of the
counselor can fall on deaf ears because the client’s state of mind is so
shadowed, her attention so unconsciously preoccupied, that the impact of the
reading is all but squandered.
If
you are unable to soften the client’s punitive inner Saturn during the reading,
it helps to know that recording the reading can alleviate this issue in some
cases, when repeated listening over time can help the client eventually receive
the needed information.
When
a client has the potential for this kind of Saturnian
inner dynamic, it’s important to choose our words wisely. A pattern of
self-judgment is more likely to be constellated if we present information with
phrases like “you should” or “you ought to.” Even classical astrological terminology
such as “detriment” or “exaltation” plays into this Saturnian
shadow. To be on the safe side, if you use these words, think about whether
they are truly useful with a client who has no interest in learning astrology.
You might try to find ways of avoiding the terms altogether. If you do decide
to use them, make sure to qualify them with descriptions of what the words mean
to you. If a client has Venus in Scorpio (classically termed “in detriment”),
describe the evolutionary potential of such a placement. Give the client some
constructive information to work with. Explain how a detrimental trait can be
turned into an asset.
At
times we need to make a judgment call about whether the client is expressing
her real self or some false self or idealized self that is responding to an
inner tyranny of should (the
distorted Saturn shadow). The easiest way to make this judgment call is to
analyze the quality of the client's inner prompting or motivation. The
aspirations that have been co-opted by the inner tyranny will always have a
punitive or unrealistic edge—pushing her, waiting with eager self-punishing
judgment if she fails to make the self-imposed grade. In contrast, the
aspiration of the real self, while
acknowledging the effort that may be required, will include a healthy realism
and acceptance about how change might play out. If the real self is running the
show, you should be able to sense the humanity of the individual, the self-care
involved.
In
such moments we proceed with caution, but do not back off. Empathy and
experience are your best assets here, and they combine to form the gentle power
to stand for the individual’s true self-expression even while risking an
apparent conflict with her current expression of herself.
The Core Dilemma of the Healer
In
any modality that involves primary interaction with the conscious self, the
healer will face the following paradox in the intention expressed towards her
client:
You are perfect just the way
that you are and I love and accept you within that inherent value. Alongside: I wish to help you feel better, minimize
unnecessary suffering and enable your further potential—so there is something
in you that needs to change and grow.
The
Buddha conceived of a “Middle Path” existing between the illusion of eternalism (perfection, or heaven in a fixed, unchanging
form) and the illusion of nihilism (all is change, so there is no ultimate
meaning). The Buddha’s Middle Path provides a model the healer can apply to the
above dilemma. On the one hand, difficulty arises when we admit that we are not
perfect (eternalism). On the other, we can feel that we
are a failure or worthless (nihilism). In a reading, a client may get stuck at
either side of this equation. The perfection problem can take the form of
identification with a happy childhood: that everything in the family experience
was “just great.” Then, as the reading unfolds, it becomes clear that this was
not really the case. The danger then, when the client has an identification
with a fragile fantasy of perfection, is that when that illusion breaks he can
quickly descend into anger or despair. He may then swing to the side of
nihilism. Our job is to point him towards the middle ground, to find healing
balance between the two positions, and also something closer to the truth.
We
can be most useful to our clients if we convey that she is already perfect as she is and simultaneously act as a powerful
advocate for her desire to transform and change. We can start by stating that every chart is perfect as it is, arising
as it does out of the divine and intimately connected to the perfection of the
cosmos. We can explain that our chart describes the unique potential each of us is charged with fulfilling—and that to
achieve that, we need to identify areas
in which change could be useful.