Since the astronomical community reclassified Pluto in 2006, we have experienced a revolution in how we perceive the celestial bodies that occupy our Solar System. Numerous Pluto-like objects have been sighted beyond Pluto’s orbit, and many more are expected to be found. We have innumerable asteroids and comet-like objects called Centaurs, of which Chiron was only the first discovered. Nowadays, astronomers group these new objects into zones or belts. Many have names, while others are recognized by an assigned number.
This flurry of new discoveries presents several problems for the astrological community, which Patricia Garner takes up in her thoughtful treatise, A Cosmic Dialogue. First, and perhaps most obviously, which of these new bodies should astrologers add to their horoscopes? Traditional or horary astrologers may advise you to stick with the visible planets and forget the rest, but otherwise most astrologer have found value in Chiron, the first four asteroids, and even Eris, the trans-Neptunian planet responsible for Pluto’s demotion. Should we add other asteroids? How about Hygeia, which is actually larger than Juno? Or some of the other named objects beyond Pluto, such as Haumea, Sedna, or Orcus?
The second major problem for astrologers is how to assign meaning to these new objects? A modern principle is that the naming of a new planet or asteroid has a synchronistic correlation with the object’s symbolic significance in the horoscope. We don’t understand how this can be, other than the naming process somehow taps into an intangible, archetypal, collective process. The discoveries and naming of Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto represent this fundamental principle in action; however, with the many new objects being discovered and named, can we trust that the name corresponds to its astrological significance?
The third problem is what does the sudden appearance of a massive amount of new bodies mean for our collective evolution? For thousands of years, astrologers had only seven visible planets to put into their charts. Then along came Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto after the invention of the telescope and a better understanding of how gravity works. Now we have dwarf planets, plutoids, trans-Neptunian objects, asteroids, centaurs, Trojans, and scattered disk objects – all discovered in recent decades. If astrologers believe the maxim “As Above, So Below,” then we are on the verge of some huge paradigm shift.
These three issues that Garner raises are interconnected. But for the bulk of her book, she addresses the second one with passionate lucidity and scholarly explanations. And her narrative makes a good read. It makes us think, and that’s her primary purpose in writing A Cosmic Dialogue. By addressing the issue of how we name planets, she’s encouraging astrologers to find some core principles that will help build a stronger, more cohesive and constructive community.
Her first step in this philosophical perspective is to review how the first seven visible planets were named. We don’t know when or how these planets were named, but we do know that the Roman myths that were applied to these planets reflect some of the physical qualities of the planets, such as their color, brightness, length of visibility, and the stories that were woven around their movements. Garner writes, “Planetary legitimacy was not instantly conferred, nor dictated, but came about slowly, through consensus. And then stood the test of time.”
Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto each get a chapter devoted to their discovery and naming, and here we begin to see how the naming process is somewhat tainted by the new rule: the astronomer who sights the planet gets to name it. The naming of both Uranus and Neptune became entangled by the confusion over which astronomer got the credit for first sighting the object, which in turn brought in national rivalries. Neptune in particular has an obscure discovery date, and any one of several popular alternative names might have survived instead of Neptune. Would you feel comfortable calling this planet Oceanus, Minerva, Janus, or perhaps Hyperion?
And now, in the post-Pluto era (meaning after 2006 when Pluto was demoted), we have the problem of an extraordinary volume of new astrological bodies. Astrologers generally accept the new astronomical name and give it the corresponding symbolic significance. Garner’s point is that the discovery of a new outer planet, such as Haumea, did not have corresponding worldwide developments that would be suggested by Haumea’s mythology. When Pluto was discovered, as many astrologers have pointed out, we had numerous manifestations of Pluto’s symbolism, including the splitting of the atom, the advancement of psychiatry, and the emergence of gangsterism. Perhaps we astrologers should make greater efforts to determine what we are really dealing with rather than go along with what the astronomical community is dictating.
Since the astronomical community reclassified Pluto in 2006, we have experienced a revolution in how we perceive the celestial bodies that occupy our Solar System. Numerous Pluto-like objects have been sighted beyond Pluto’s orbit, and many more are expected to be found. We have innumerable asteroids and comet-like objects called Centaurs, of which Chiron was only the first discovered. Nowadays, astronomers group these new objects into zones or belts. Many have names, while others are recognized by an assigned number.
This flurry of new discoveries presents several problems for the astrological community, which Patricia Garner takes up in her thoughtful treatise, A Cosmic Dialogue. First, and perhaps most obviously, which of these new bodies should astrologers add to their horoscopes? Traditional or horary astrologers may advise you to stick with the visible planets and forget the rest, but otherwise most astrologer have found value in Chiron, the first four asteroids, and even Eris, the trans-Neptunian planet responsible for Pluto’s demotion. Should we add other asteroids? How about Hygeia, which is actually larger than Juno? Or some of the other named objects beyond Pluto, such as Haumea, Sedna, or Orcus?
The second major problem for astrologers is how to assign meaning to these new objects? A modern principle is that the naming of a new planet or asteroid has a synchronistic correlation with the object’s symbolic significance in the horoscope. We don’t understand how this can be, other than the naming process somehow taps into an intangible, archetypal, collective process. The discoveries and naming of Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto represent this fundamental principle in action; however, with the many new objects being discovered and named, can we trust that the name corresponds to its astrological significance?
The third problem is what does the sudden appearance of a massive amount of new bodies mean for our collective evolution? For thousands of years, astrologers had only seven visible planets to put into their charts. Then along came Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto after the invention of the telescope and a better understanding of how gravity works. Now we have dwarf planets, plutoids, trans-Neptunian objects, asteroids, centaurs, Trojans, and scattered disk objects – all discovered in recent decades. If astrologers believe the maxim “As Above, So Below,” then we are on the verge of some huge paradigm shift.
These three issues that Garner raises are interconnected. But for the bulk of her book, she addresses the second one with passionate lucidity and scholarly explanations. And her narrative makes a good read. It makes us think, and that’s her primary purpose in writing A Cosmic Dialogue. By addressing the issue of how we name planets, she’s encouraging astrologers to find some core principles that will help build a stronger, more cohesive and constructive community.
Her first step in this philosophical perspective is to review how the first seven visible planets were named. We don’t know when or how these planets were named, but we do know that the Roman myths that were applied to these planets reflect some of the physical qualities of the planets, such as their color, brightness, length of visibility, and the stories that were woven around their movements. Garner writes, “Planetary legitimacy was not instantly conferred, nor dictated, but came about slowly, through consensus. And then stood the test of time.”
Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto each get a chapter devoted to their discovery and naming, and here we begin to see how the naming process is somewhat tainted by the new rule: the astronomer who sights the planet gets to name it. The naming of both Uranus and Neptune became entangled by the confusion over which astronomer got the credit for first sighting the object, which in turn brought in national rivalries. Neptune in particular has an obscure discovery date, and any one of several popular alternative names might have survived instead of Neptune. Would you feel comfortable calling this planet Oceanus, Minerva, Janus, or perhaps Hyperion?
And now, in the post-Pluto era (meaning after 2006 when Pluto was demoted), we have the problem of an extraordinary volume of new astrological bodies. Astrologers generally accept the new astronomical name and give it the corresponding symbolic significance. Garner’s point is that the discovery of a new outer planet, such as Haumea, did not have corresponding worldwide developments that would be suggested by Haumea’s mythology. When Pluto was discovered, as many astrologers have pointed out, we had numerous manifestations of Pluto’s symbolism, including the splitting of the atom, the advancement of psychiatry, and the emergence of gangsterism. Perhaps we astrologers should make greater efforts to determine what we are really dealing with rather than go along with what the astronomical community is dictating.
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