When the stars give you spoilers: why I love horary astrology

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I’m often asked by folks—my ever-patient husband among them—why I favor horary astrology over the practice of something more well-known like natal astrology. My reasons aren’t overly complicated, but to get there I’d like to mention the difference between modalities of astrology.

Think about intelligence for a minute. The psychologist Howard Gardner delineated a theory of multiple intelligences in his 1983 book, Frames of Mind: The Theory of Multiple Intelligences. In short, Gardner proposed that the bigger concept of intelligence was better conceived of as subsisting in eight specific modalities, to include such things as verbal-linguistic intelligence (what you use when speaking or writing), logical-mathematical intelligence (what you use when solving logical or arithmetical problems), or intrapersonal intelligence (what you access when you are reflecting on your own interior emotional and cognitive life).

Gardner’s theory supposes that there’s not one overarching construction of intelligence, but rather, different people have different strengths and weaknesses in terms of the facility they have with each of these modalities.

So, by way of parallel, we can talk about astrology is an alternative means of knowing that has different modalities. If astrology is an intelligence, a language of symbolically meaningful correlations that we can utilize to tell stories about the way our lives shake out, then I would suggest that we can look at horary and natal astrology as being two different “modalities” of astrology that have a lot of overlap but necessarily deal with different things. The same set of rules that governs natal astrology also governs horary, more or less (especially if you’re a traditional astrologer), but they have wildly different applications.

So why do I prefer this particular modality of astrology to natal—especially since I also practice natal astrology?

One: horary astrology is results-driven. Either the horary astrologer gets the judgment right, or they don’t. At the end of the day, what drives a person to seek out the assistance of an astrologer is a specific precipitating event that has driven them to a crisis. And I think “crisis” is the right word here, because the Greek word from which we get our word “crisis” means “judgment,” which is what a horary consultation endeavors to do. We get the chart of the crisis (in the form of a question) and judge what will become of it.

Two: horary astrology is a powerful intervention tool. Because of the nature of some of the questions that horary astrologers encounter in their practice, it is often bringing us face to face with the challenging realities of people’s individual emotional, relational, vocational, and financial crises (or otherwise). The astrologer, then, has the sacred responsibility to treat the client’s question or concern with the patience and unconditional positive regard such a situation may demand. The astrologer then has the opportunity to speak directly into the client’s crisis, using the wisdom of the chart.

In my practice I’ve found that the very process of working with a client to massage a question into something that is clear and answerable with a horary consultation is illuminating both for the astrologer and for the client, who may have some unspoken challenges or matters which they are not addressing in the question but are critical for understanding how to move forward from the consultation space; these matters make themselves readily apparent in the chart of the question.

Three: horary astrology is concise and accessible.Dr. Lee Lehman, one of the biggest names in the traditional astrology world and one of my mentors by way of the STA, said something in an interview with Chris Brennan on the Astrology Podcast that has stayed with me for quite some time: “We have our entire lives to work out our natal charts.” Natal consultations are hard because we really are speaking about an entire lifetime of subjective and objective experiences and trying to make sense of the story that is underpinning all of them, which, if we’re not focused in how we’re approaching the natal chart, can cause us to become lost in a forest of subplots and details that don’t further the client’s understanding of their life station.

Meanwhile, a horary judgment is zeroed in on one specific issue or concern, and it’s not something that we need to spend the rest of our lives puzzling about it. As well, despite the complex nature of the rules that govern the practice of horary astrology, a story can be told clearly and concisely to the point that the practitioner need not make recourse to any astrological terminology.

A joiner to this: the best horary charts have strong connections to the querent’s natal chart for sure, and I have seen this come to bear in my own life even as recently as this week.

Four: horary astrology is rules-driven and rooted in tradition. The whole practice of horary astrology works because of the tight rules that govern the interpretation of horary charts which have been handed down from the ancient near east through medieval Europe and ultimately, through the rediscovery of William Lilly by Olivia Barclay and her successors in the traditional astrological revival of the late 1980s and following.

The rules of horary follow a clear, logical order, and because of that, they are straightforward to learn and use systematically to all manner of charts. There are a lot of rules, though, so there’s a little bit of a barrier to entry for folks who haven’t exercised their memorization chops in a while, but all the same, this art can be learned and taught effectively precisely because of the clarity of the rules.

I especially love it because all of the symbolism in the chart comes out of following these rules; for example, Mars and Venus coming to a conjunction in Scorpio is going to tell a vastly different story than Mars and Venus coming to a conjunction in Libra. The best practitioners are those whose attention to the rules are joined to intuition in a way that supports the clear and precise interpretation of the chart.

Five: my personal experience has validated the power of horary. I put this one towards the bottom of the list because I was already deeply attracted to and invested in my study of horary by the time I had any remarkable experience of it in my own life. It wasn’t until I was wrapping up my studies in the practitioner’s level course at the STA that I asked and judged a question for myself, a career matter that is still playing out in ways that are, frankly, uncanny (which I won’t get into here). The chart spoke concisely and directly to a decision I was making and, two months ahead of time, predicted a new and important collaborative partnership that would emerge in my day job that necessitated me remaining deeply rooted therein.

So, yeah, it works.

In sum, I love this art simply because when questions are asked with sincerity and openness to whatever it is the Divine has to say about the matter, it works, and it gives the kind of clear, direct, and constructive feedback to which modern life has grown accustomed. And, honestly, I think it’s for everyone; yes, the rules are arcane and require lengthy investment of time and energy to learn and deploy well, but the number of astrologers who have the knack for this is growing and the art is becoming more available to people who otherwise wouldn’t know that they have recourse to the heavens.

Do you have a pressing, personal question that you would like to address with horary astrology? Send me an email today!

Cover photo by Steven Hille

On Uranus in Taurus

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A lot of folks seem to be worrying the Uranus Taurus ingress to death. With these outer planet transits and ingresses, we expect big things to occur on the world stage. Uranus’ trips through Taurus have a way of coinciding with major shake-ups to the foundations of society; his last transit of Taurus lined up with that weird and worrisome period between the Great Depression and the outbreak of World War II. But bear in mind that Uranus in Taurus was not the only thing happening at that time.

What I want to make clear here is that Uranus’ property is not to create geopolitical crises. His property is to disrupt such that it forces adaptation. Uranus qua Uranus is the crisis waiting to happen, the precipitating factor, the change agent.

There’s a reason that a number of astrologers are starting to refer to this planet as Prometheus. In his myth, Prometheus steals fire from the gods as a boon for humanity, but then humanity still has to adjust to the new reality that having access to fire engenders for everyone. All Prometheus did was say, “here you go, now deal with it.”

Uranus queers–that is, Uranus makes things weird. Honestly, I need more astrologers to be talking about Uranus power to queer. Whichever house cusp Taurus lies on in your chart will be queered with this ingress.

Consider what it is that the Fab Five do on any episode of Queer Eye: they come in unexpectedly, rumble around a man’s entire wardrobe, living space, grooming, pantry, and confidence, leaving no matter untouched. And the men whose lives they impact, though they are completely unsettled and jostled around by this process, come out on the other side for the better.

Uranus will draw the elements and qualities of all that which is on the outside, the margins, the unexpected—”All things counter, original, spare, strange; / Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?) / With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;” to quote Hopkins—right to the center, where it will demand adaptation. The power of the Fab Five is not that they come in and teach a man how to wear pants that fit; they teach a man how to make manifest his divine dignity by uprooting his comfort, his ugly-ass dad sneakers, and addressing the emotional baggage that caused that man to become stuck and fixed in the first place. In other words, Uranus will be the sand in the particular oyster that Taurus represents in your chart, as he always is and always does. She ain’t give a damn, hennie.

That’s the gift of queerness. We exist on the margins and when we draw the margins to the center through our presence, we create an adaptive crisis for the status quo. For me, Uranus was transiting my third whole sign house (second Placidus) and so much of the last seven years was about queering my relationship with traditional religion, which is now my day job—as well as learning how to talk about my own queerness and communicate it. There were any number of crisis points on the way that played into the whole theme (which I won’t list here), but looking back, I have a clear view of what it was that Uranus was doing in my life over the last seven years.

This goes to show that even though the precipitating crises Uranus instigates might be tied to specific events, those are amplified points of the overall theme of the transit. Is Uranus hitting favorable aspects to planets in your chart? Be ready for boons you aren’t expecting that still require you to adjust. Squares or oppositions? The same, but those will be tougher.

Regardless of the quality of the transits themselves, whether we experience them as positive of negative, we still have to be flexible, and each of the specific contacts between Uranus and other planets play into the overall story of this transit.

And we can sit around and speculate, but all the while, Uranus transits are by their very nature unpredictable. We can refine the possible manifestations of a Uranus transit by looking at our charts, but ultimately, the odds are that we won’t be able to nail down exactly what it’ll be until after the fact.

Worrying possible transits to death will make you rigid, and rigid can’t deal with Uranus. Better to bend than to break. So, friends, meet Uranus’ transits to your Taurus-placed house with Taurus’ cool head and patience. Think more Ferdinand under his cork tree, less rage-blinded animal charging at a toreador.

So I ask: what are the things that hold you to the ground? What is it that gives you a sense of stability and fixity? What are the material things with which you surround yourself in order to feel a sense of pleasure and peace? Uranus’ transit through Taurus is going to ask you to reevaluate anything that you would root yourself in, and that question is not going to come in the form of a gentle “have you considered this,” but rather, “oh by the way, your house is on fire and your investments are all over the place and your paycheck is screaming and your food is killing you and eat a vegetable and prom’s tomorrow!!”

So, as always, be prepared.

If you’re ready for a given area to be jostled in your life, if you can roll with the punches, if you can abide—and participate in—Uranus messing with all of your stuff, you’ll come out on the other side a reformed person. For our society, so rooted as it is in our relationship with money, this might necessarily mean some unprecedented shifts. And for each of us on our own, Uranus will come wheeling into whichever house Taurus is on and—as Prometheus did in the myths of ages past—hand us something fiery like “universal healthcare” or “cryptocurrency” or “food justice” and say, “well, here you go. Let’s zhuzh it a little.”

On Taurus

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The Sun is now well into Taurus! So put on your sweatpants, grab a pint and a pizza, and settle in as we explore the meaning behind one of everyone’s favorite signs.

The three keys to understanding any sign are its element, its modality, and the planets that have dignity or debility there. Taurus is an earth sign, a fixed sign, and is the domicile of Venus, the exalted seat of the Moon, and the detriment of Mars. The fertile environment of Taurus is made so by its fixity and earthiness, as well as by the planets that have the most dignity here: Venus and the Moon. Venus rules Taurus; it is her nocturnal house, where she retires to re-energize for her work.

Comfort, luxury, pleasure, indulgence are the name of the game for planets expressing their energies through Taurus; their agenda is set by Venus and all of her natural rulerships. If a planet is able to go along with LUSH writ large, they do better here.

People born with their Sun in Taurus are people who understand their purpose in life to be associated with Venus’ pursuits: peace, beauty, luxury, harmony, enjoyment, and pleasure. The same is true of people with their Sun in Libra; however, since Taurus is an earth sign and a fixed sign, the Solar purpose expressed through Taurus can be described as maintaining the status quo in terms of relating to the material world. Because of that, and due to Venus’ rulership, who naturally rules material wealth, Taurus has close associations with finance and the material “stuff” of our life, to include commodities.

NB: Don’t confuse Taurus and the second house (which also deals with resources, money, and material things)! They are similar, but not ultimately related.

The stereotype of people with Taurus suns as “lazy” is somewhat rooted in reality, given Taurus’ affinity for relaxation and enjoyment, as well as its fixity and stubbornness. Yet Taurus suns can be incredibly hard workers—fixity and stubbornness, after all. But Taurus’ ability to work hard is best applied to Venerian and Lunar endeavors. The cultivation of peace, beauty, and emotional intimacy is something that Taurus suns find as part of their understanding of their purpose in the world.

That “peace” is not the same kind of empathic peace that Libra strives for (Venus’ diurnal sign); peace in Libra is about unity of minds, a morally and ethically just peace (Saturn’s exaltation). The peace for which Venus strives in Taurus is, instead, the idea of “shalom,” the idea of material wholeness: “Everyone under their own olive tree.” No one lacks for anything material. (Remember this when Uranus enters Taurus this year.) Likewise, the Moon is exalted in Taurus and so the peace for which well-adjusted Taurus suns strive finds its strength in emotional intimacy and connection. The Moon here leans on Venus’ power to unite.

Remember too that lunar placements indicate the direction we go when we encounter stress, as well as the way forward in responding to stress in a healthy way. Taurus Moons will attempt to numb themselves with too much pleasure when they are stressed; that is, the Moon will take too much out of Venus’ refrigerator when she encounters stress in Taurus and drink herself into a luxurious, lazy stupor instead of doing the hard Mars work of confronting stress.

Meanwhile, Taurus’ lushness demands fixity and stability because Mars is in detriment here. It demands slowness, and if a planet cannot relate with slowness or with luxury, it will not do as well here (cf. Mars).

Fleet-footed Mercury is peregrine for the second half of the sign; he has a little bit of dignity by either term or face for the first half of the sign, but Taurus’ fixity is not something that comports with Mercury’s shifting nature.

So what about a Mars in Taurus placement? Mars in Taurus is an anger that falls asleep to itself, that does not find expression until something triggers it and it explodes in bullish force, leveling everything in its path and shocking everyone who witnesses it. “How could someone so easygoing have such a bad temper out of nowhere?” Taurus Mars stuns everyone when he awakes; he must have an outlet. Taurus’ physicality gives a ready way forward—anything that routes energy and emotion through the body in a controlled and appropriate expression is a great way for Taurus Mars individuals to work off their anger.

Interestingly, Jupiter has dignity only by term for a small portion of Taurus and otherwise has no dignity throughout the sign, despite Jupiter’s friendliness toward Venus. While Jupiter enjoys pleasure and luxury too, Jupiter’s restless search for truth and expansion of its boundaries does not necessarily comport with Taurus’ comfort with the status quo. Folks with Jupiter in Taurus placements likely have a propensity to overindulge in Taurean pursuits and often attach spiritual or philosophical principles to material possessions. “The love of money is the root of all kinds of evil.” Defining one’s spiritual worth based on their material possessions is a risk for any Jupiter in an earth sign placement, Taurus included. “One cannot serve both God and Mammon.”

Of the earth signs, however, Taurus is the best place for Jupiter to be, as he is in his detriment in Virgo and his fall in Capricorn. This is because Jupiter, at the very least, can connect with Venus’ idea of “shalom” and turn that into an ethical principle for living. Interestingly too, Saturn has a similar “cordial acquaintance” with Taurus as well, being peregrine for two thirds of the sign. The collection of people born with Taurus in Saturn will find themselves encountering limits and obstacles as they relate with the matters that Venus rules from here: money, economic power, resources, commodities. Saturn always demands rightness of relationship and that we carry only that which is ours to carry—finance inclusive.

Cover photo by Nicolai Durbaum

Spring Cleaning: the Virgo Lunation

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Today on the Twitter™ a friend posted the following:

The Virgo moon asked me to discern. Asked me to purge. Asked me to focus. In a way, this is what i imagine Lent feels like…♍🌛🌕🌜

To which I said, immediately, “hey, yeah, that’s exactly what Lent is about.”

In my faith tradition there is a season that precedes the holiest days of the year, viz. Holy Week, which culminates with Easter. We call this season “Lent,” or in Latin, Quadragesima. The word “lent” is related to the French word lent, meaning “slow,” which is evocative of the journey our tradition takes us on: we spend the forty days (quadragesima) preceding Holy Week slowing down, “discerning,” “purging,” “focusing,” to use the words my friend used, so that we can better appreciate the promises, the gifts, and the joy that the Easter season brings.

In a felicitous calendrical accident, we have a Virgo full moon marking the midpoint of the season. It so happens that, because of the way the calendar works and because of the calculation of the dates for both the Jewish festival of Pesach and the Christian celebration of Pascha, we always have this Virgo full moon occurring every year during this season—and it is exactly the symbolism of this particular full moon that so richly captures the process of Lent and similar processes in other religious traditions that seem to happen this time of year (to say nothing of general “spring cleaning” as the Sun makes his transit through double-bodied Pisces as winter dissipates and we shake out the dust of our hibernation).

The symbolism of double-bodied, or mutable, signs is rooted in the change of seasons as one season falls away and yields to the next. Each of these signs (Pisces, Gemini, Virgo, and Sagittarius) has an obvious “double bodied” icon: the two fish, the twins Castor & Pollux, the virgin Astraea and her eagle (or the Virgin Mary with the Dove, pick your legend), and the two-bodied centaur Chiron, the tutor of Achilles. Each of these signs marks the time of the year where the story of the year bridges two seasons, and each calls for adaptation, adjustment, and yielding to change.

Virgo is the double-bodied sign of the earthy triplicity: indeed, a full moon lunation in this portion of the sky speaks to the need to re-order and re-structure our very surroundings. This manifests, as I said, as spring cleaning for most of us in the northern hemisphere: many of us will spend time over the next weeks purging and getting rid of stuff that’s been hanging around, changing our sheets (change them more than once every three months, please), selling old stuff on eBay, vacuuming out our cars and washing the crust of brine off of them, changing the filters in our HVAC system, doing our taxes, and so forth. Some of us will also spend time out-of-doors, tilling the ground, fertilizing, mulching, and making our gardens and flower beds ready for another season.

But the energy of this particular lunation also manifests as a call to engage with the process of spiritual “spring cleaning” as well. What is it that demands our energy? What takes up room in our soul? What do we need to let go of? How do we re-order, in Virgo fashion, our material and spiritual existence in order to make ready for the next cycle of life? Those are questions that I can’t answer for you, but the placements in your chart may give you some guidance. For instance, this lunation occurred in my natal 7th house, at the trine of my Part of Fortune, and I’m finding that I’ve spent quite a bit of time and energy in the last day or so attending to money management and my spiritual relationship with my “fortunes,” so to speak.

Moreover, the Virgo lunation serves as a counterpoint to the Pisces sun, which signifies deconstruction: we can’t remain in a state of deconstruction forever and expect to continue to thrive, so the contrapuntal play of the Virgo moon reminds us to adapt to what we have learned through the process of the deconstruction that is a function of growth as humans.

Indeed, this lunation can be read as the cosmos bidding us to make ready for the great greening and renewal of the entire planet which occurs as the Sun ingresses into Aries each year. It is a call for us to breathe along with the breath of the planet, which the stories of our faith traditions bear out in festivals around this time of year: Pascha/Easter for those of us who are Christians, Pesach for our Jewish friends, Ostara for others, and on and on. So many of us, especially those of us who are making preparations for our respective holy days, will experience the energy following this lunation as “tidying up” energy that, when employed skillfully, can enable us to Marie Kondo our physical environments as well as our spiritual environments in order to reorder and restructure for the best growth possible.

So I give you this prayer or affirmation to hold in mind as you work with this energy over the next two weeks: “may I reorder and make room in my life and my heart so that I may feast on the joy of the Earth’s restoration.”

 

Horary Adventures: Can He Grow?

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A client wrote to me earlier this month with the following query regarding her partner of several months. As they were approaching the first Sun square of their nascent relationship, naturally conflicts and questions about quality and trajectory had begun to arise.

The client noted that, while the Quesited, who is on the tail end of a somewhat recent divorce, was quite capable of being a boyfriend, she is more in need of a partner in the deepest sense of that word, and suspected that he has the capacity to become one but the level of work that he will need to do in order to become so is manifold. The client likewise explained that she and her partner had an open relationship, but there was some tacit disagreement between them as to where the line between consensual openness and infidelity lay. The Quesited was giving her radio silence at the time of the question.

Her question, which I have truncated for brevity’s sake, is thus:

Is he able to heal fast enough (so I don’t get burned out trying to fix my triggers all on my own) and level up to the communication/level of presence I need, or do I need to rule him out as serious partner material for a while until he’s recovered himself post-divorce?

The chart is drawn for 8:29PM on January 7th, 2018, in Lexington, Kentucky.

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My response was thus:

“I’m glad I don’t have to write another “dump his ass” judgment, and, I’m really glad this particular chart is extremely easy to read. The symbolism is all clear.”

The Querent is represented by the Sun, at 17 degrees Capricorn in the 5th house. The Quesited is represented by Saturn, at 2 degrees Capricorn, also in the 5th house. The Sun presages a mature woman with light hair, full of body, robust, and of ruddy complexion, confident, humane, and deliberate at risk of haughtiness or being overbearing or demanding. Likewise Saturn: the Quesited is older than the Querent, with long and dark hair, pale, with a broad and high forehead, someone of patience and responsibility but with a share of discontent or emotional repression.

Now, there is no aspect joining these two planets at the moment, but they are in the same sign, and as a matter of fact the Sun is in the sign of Saturn so Saturn is setting his agenda for him while he is there. As this is not a “will we get together” question I am less concerned about finding a contact point.

I identified that the Querent felt, for better or for worse, at the mercy of the Quesited’s emotive state in the midst of this question. However, the Sun is peregrine where he is in Capricorn, meaning that he doesn’t have the ability to shine as brightly or act as clearly as he would normally. Likewise, the Querent doesn’t quite know what to do right now and feels like she’s floundering. A peregrine Sun is not a good place to be making final decisions from.

Saturn (the Quesited) on the other hand, is in his element in Capricorn; he is in a sign of structure and discipline and slow growth through boundary setting and rigor, which are all things that Saturn presages. However, Saturn has only just come home to Capricorn over the last couple of weeks, and we see in the chart that he is still freshly there.

Saturn has everything he could possibly need right now, but it’s as though he’s just walked in the door from a hellacious trip and is still standing in the foyer taking his boots off and getting his coat hung up and his shit put together so that he can be home and enjoy it. I reminded my client: you know what Saturn is bad at sometimes? Communicating. But you know what Saturn is really good at, when he has space and time to do so in his own sign of Capricorn? Embodying maturity.

Venus is applying by conjunction to the Sun. She is a planet of healing and peacemaking, but I notice that she also is coming between the Sun and Saturn. Saturn sees this and thinks, “hmm, well, the Sun’s not as accessible because Venus is in the way.” The Querent had mentioned an issue surrounding the openness in their relationship having happened on the 28th of December and the superior Venus/Sun conjunction speaks to this.

The Querent did not consider her actions to be unfaithful within the boundaries they had set for openness in their relationship; in fact, Venus in this position is extremely weak as she is fully consumed in the Sun, so the Querent has more of a solid handle on the situation, but from Saturn’s perspective, all he can see is the Sun consuming Venus in fire and wondering if the Querent do that to him too.

It’s as though Saturn has walked into his own house to see this whole situation unfolding and he’s wondering what the hell is going on. Pluto is right there, too, and, while we don’t read a lot into Pluto in traditional horary, his presence is worth noting—he is the bringer of deep and irreversible change. Let the reader beware.

Another prominent thing I see when I look at this chart is the newly-separating conjunction of Mars and Jupiter being directly on the cusp of the fourth house in Scorpio, which is very much a sort of deep “real talk” energy, the kind that brings epiphanies and healing — although not necessarily easy epiphanies and healing. This energy is coloring the entire chart because of the strong position of these two powerhouses.

The Sun is applying by sextile to both of those planets at the moment of the chart, and Mars is more like to receive him than Jupiter — there’s a sense to which the Querent’s approach to this question is much more conflicted than necessarily needs to be, and Mars is receiving the Sun’s energy and running with it, sowing conflict at home. Jupiter’s beneficence can’t shine as brightly in Scorpio so the penetrating conversations which the Querent’s thoughts and actions are leading into with the Quesited are going to have a more Martial feel—conflictual, even if they are not actually conflict.

Now, let’s look at the Moon: she is in Libra, the sign of Saturn’s exaltation, and has recently pinged him with a tense square aspect. This is another testimony to the Querent’s recent interactions with the Quesited having been cause for concern; she feels so strongly about him and he is ready to have her, but he hasn’t been as able to give her what she needs because he has been in a place of debility, as I mentioned.

The next thing the Moon will do, before she leaves Libra, is to hit Venus and the Sun with a square aspect as well, meaning there will probably be a couple more pings of conflict over the next couple of days (even if they are just internalized conflicts). After that, she will cross over into Scorpio, passing the newly separated Jupiter and Mars in a few days. At that point she’ll be tying the energies of Jupiter, Mars, Venus, and the Sun all together, making for a powerful time to have a conversation that, I think, will ultimately be about healing.

The other thing to mention about this chart is that the whole pileup of Sun, Venus, and Saturn, while they are in the Querent’s fifth house, are placed in the Quesited’s turned 11th house, which is associated with hopes, dreams, restoration, healing, and growth.

Here’s the skinny: in my estimation, the Quesited is 5000% percent able to mature to the level the Querent needs him to be, but he will likely not be able to mature on her timeframe because he is represented by Saturn, who is the slowest of visible planets and who does not do anything unless it’s worth taking a long time to do. 

I advised the Querent, if she valued his partnership, to utilize the energy of the next couple of days not to set ultimatums with him but instead to have some heart-to-heart conversations about the things she needs in a true partnership with him. It’s as though the Cosmos is asking her to step up to an elevated level of commitment with him, and saying “I’ll walk with you through the next few steps,” while it’s not marriage, might be the level of commitment that would help him grow in such a way as to enable both of them to be the best versions of themselves in partnership.

The Querent contacted me several hours after I sent her the judgment (at about 11:39PM local time) to inform me that she had just had a lengthy conversation with the Quesited that ameliorated many of the issues that had been raised, if not totally resolving them, and she mentioned that the Quesited had done a lot of emotional work during his period of radio silence and thanked her for provoking him into doing the work and asking for what she needed. I’m excited to follow up with her and see how this is continuing to unfold!

This judgment was shared with the permission of the Querent.