My husband Jeff Joel, 21 years ago, (one quarter of a Uranus cycle, three quarters of a Saturn cycle ago!), said to me a week or so before he died in 2003, as we were driving along, having been apart from each other for a few months, “I really appreciate my 50s. There’s just so much more to think about!”
Exactly.
Like everyone I know who is conscious, that is, actively processing experience — growing older, rather than just getting older — I notice, over time, both more and more acutely and subtly, patterns of meaning. Small and large. Kleidoscoping patterns within patterns. Like a rock thrown into the middle of life’s pond, meaningfulness arises in rings, cycles, that radiate from within.
As an astrologer, I learned long ago to view time, not as a straight line, but as it spirals through space, creating meaningful patterns, those most obviously, that track the cycles of the planets from the day of one’s birth. Examples:
Mars: two years. How many relationships, jobs, begin and end within about two years? The energy that powers this cycle is volatile, thrusting, “martian.” First Mars cycle ends at the age of two years; colloquially known as “the terrible twos,” with three words on the tips of toddler’s suddenly selfish tongue: ME, MINE, and NO! At any age, one’s Mars-cycled relationships usually begin suddenly, with a great rush, and can end, just as abruptly, leaving us shocked in their wake, that our strong desire nature took us by surprise and carried us away.
Jupiter: twelve years. Notice your expansive Jupiter cycles of opportunity, 1-12, 12-24, 24-36, 36-48, 48-60, 60-72, 72-84, and so on up and away. What kinds of opportunities arose during your various Jupiter cycles? How did each one begin? What did it look like half way through that cycle? Was there some kind of illumination then? And did you consciously complete each cycle, so that you weren’t left yearning, for what was not to be? Jupiter signifies generosity, luck, sometimes too muchness.
These two cycles, Mars and Jupiter, and all others, are punctuated by their quarter cycles, signifying when something must change within the cycle to enable it to keep going on track: New Moon First Quarter, Full Moon, Fourth Quarter, back to New again.
At New Moon: a new month-long cycle of opportunity begins. 90° later, at first Quarter, the first turning, correcting the course enough to reach for the apex at Full Moon, fully 180° degrees from when the Moon was New. Fourth quarter, again 90° on, needing to balance, across the cycle, the first quarter, in the process of fulfilling what was promised at the apex, and then turning towards home, the end of the cycle, which is also, always, the beginning of the New cycle, New Moon.
All cycles, all patterns of experience operate that way, as four angles of a more or less difficult, growth correcting cross, set inside a circle of completeness, unity. Each 90° turning point represents stress, where something must adjust, change, in order to eventually fulfill both the New Moon seed and the Full Moon illumination.
Each time we complete a cycle, of whatever size, consciously, each time we carve out that space through time, we experience the feeling of fullness, that aha, when the cycle closes, shows that it is done.
With all that in mind, think of the next cycle, Saturn: 29.5 years. And its quarter cycles, each of them a turning point, 7+ years, “the seven year itch.”
Three Saturn cycles in one human lifetime, which I shall call, for women, Maiden, Mother, Crone.
The first cycle: we learn what it’s like to live in “the matrix,” the control grid, established by society, with its rules, roles and regs. We learn structure, how to structure our lives to fulfill something that began long ago. When I was in my 20s, as a ’60s hippie, I assumed “you can’t trust anybody over 30.” Once I reached the age of 30, I realized that only with that milestone does one begin to recognize both what has been accomplished in the first 30 years, and how it feels limiting now. We learn cause and effect in that first Saturn cycle. Start at a certain place, this is where you end up!
And then, the internal yearning: what’s next? What felt like a wide open field at 21 (3/4 of the way through the first cycle), began to feel like a cage as the end of that cycle drew closer. How to get out? In that first Saturn cycle, we learn either conformity or rebellion; either one with reference to the indoctrinated traditions of a certain social structure.
Second cycle Saturn: ages 30-60, the cycle of what Jung would call “individuation.” Who am I as a unique individual, what is my purpose, my path? One’s own path is created according to inner guidance, IF one is and remains conscious. Otherwise, we just try to repeat the first cycle of Saturn, trying, and again failing, to “obey the rules,” and/or, continuing pointless rebellion from them. Think of older women who try their damndest to appear young, for example.
With each cycle, as it begins to repeat there is the possibility of opening, spiralling.
The larger the cycle, the larger the meaning that can be gleaned from one’s conscious awareness of it.
Third Saturn cycle: the Crone, the elder. I’ve written about this one for ages, starting the magazine Crone Chronicles: A Journal of Conscious Aging, at the ripe old age of 46! I published it for 12 years (one Jupiter cycle), very successfully, helping thousands of older women remember to appreciate the gifts of age in a society that until very recently, has worshipped youth.
I’m not done with this third Saturn cycle. Not until I’m 90. Only then will I be able to fully appreciate and embody the gifts of the Crone. Meanwhile, there’s ‘been an intruder . . .
Uranus: 84 years. I never expected to be able to explore this one! Never thought I’d live this long!
Yes. This is the cycle, the meaning of which I am currently, nearing my 82nd birthday, consciously reaching for, noticing its reflections in the evolving material conditions of my life. Which means that I’m constantly recognizing smaller time/space patterns within this larger almost completed cycle, smaller aha’s that, when orchestrated, have synthesized into me, NOW. Being much vaster than the Saturn cycle, the meaning of Uranus, as it begins to reveal itself, feels shockingly alive and surprising. A smaller pattern which I might have considered “awful” earlier, I might now hold “in awe,” recognizing its place nested within other, larger cycles
Neptune: 165 years.
Pluto: 248 years.
These two cycles, their lifetimes longer than our own, are full of mystery. There is no way we can understand them; they dwell within our unconscious minds, link us to other members of our generation, and signify periods within the zeitgeist. These cycles, plus Uranus cycle (since I didn’t dare think I would live this long) are, in fact, the reason I began to study astrology; as a double Sagittarian, I am always reaching for the unknown.
Which brings me to the point of this post.
ATARAXIA. The feeling of fullness that accompanies a life well lived. Equanimity, peace of mind, stillness, a kind of foundational tranquility. Epicurus thought ataraxia the highest pleasure, not because it fulfilled a desire, but because it occurs as the space within which desires rise and fall. rather than identifying with desire, conscious aging results in watching relatively brief desires come and go, with not much bother if they are not fulfilled. Life in a body ensures desire, our hormonal tendrils reaching for others to fulfill.
As hormones begin to quiet, so does the mind and heart. Thus the great gift of growing older.
Here is a youtube interview of one amazing 103 year old woman. I can only presume she is conscious!
