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SUN-URANUS
SIRENS Feature article in The Mountain Astrologer, Oct./Nov. 2004
The Greek story of the Sirens who enchanted Ulysses and his men, echoed by similar tales throughout mythology, has several layers of meaning. On one hand, it symbolizes the magical effect of a woman in the full glory of her feminine power, singing her song. Men cannot resist her. You could even say that the crashing of the boat on treacherous rocks represents man's awakening to his true self. He is lured by his unconscious feminine to plunge into the deeper aspects of his soul. It's only the false, outer self that dies, so that something more powerful can be born. On the other hand, this sounds rather painful for the man. And, what kind of life is this for the Siren? She is forever set apart, excluded from the "normal" joys of committed relationship, doomed to being the initiator. Her sense of fulfillment, though intense, may be fleeting. Now in our 40s and 50s, my friends and I are beginning to gain some perspective on our Siren-like tendencies. This society doesn't offer much support for the woman who chooses that rock in the middle of the ocean, or is thrust there by the dictates of her nature. Liz Greene, in her book Relating, points out the need for the Sun-Uranus woman to bring her personal relationships into a more transpersonal sphere, one in which the less-individualized Uranian archetype has more room to express itself and therefore wreaks less havoc in her life. In other words, perhaps there's a more graceful way to bring about awakening than by crashing the relation "ship" on the rocks. After much crashing about (as well as plenty of excitement!), my friends and I have instinctively begun to move toward this state of grace through such avenues as spiritual sex, celibacy, strong friendships with men and our own unique, creative work. None of us is married or even in relationship at this time. Which isn't to say we don't want this kind of intimacy; we're just not willing to sacrifice our freedom to have it. We share a deep delight in solitude. Though we do enjoy a man's company, we don't need him around in order to be happy. We have some inspirational Sun-Uranus role models, like Taurus Shirley MacLaine, who famously went "Out on a Limb" in the 80s as the first celebrity to actively embrace Aquarian concepts like past lives and astrology. Cancer Meryl Streep has made a career of playing unconventional characters so masterfully that she's won two Oscars and been nominated 13 times. Her character in The French Lieutenant's Woman was a classic Siren. Yet Streep has sustained a happy marriage since 1978, probably because she channels her Uranian nature into her work. And then there is Madonna. This iconic Sun-Uranus Leo is the ultimate rule-breaking Siren, at least in her public image. Still making waves at 45, she has succeeded in staying on top by continuously reinventing herself-from "material girl" and sex goddess to yoga advocate and spiritual explorer. Once disastrously married to another Sun-Uranus Leo, Sean Penn, she now seems content in her union with director Guy Ritchie, who is ten years her junior. And the 16-year-old girls her music caters to still love her as much as their counterparts did 20 years ago. Sometimes it seems as if Sun-Uranus types have found the key to eternal youth, which is undoubt-edly part of our Siren-like appeal. We're trend-setters, not followers, who always seem to be ahead of the curve. As a young fashion editor in the early 80s, I made the most of my newly-discovered ability to see where the cultural zeitgeist was headed. I jumped on the astrology bandwagon around the same time, largely due to my driving need to know what was going to happen next. What astrologer Zip Dobyns called the "freedom-closeness dilemma" is painfully familiar to me as a Sun-Uranus Cancer. Still unmarried and childless at 48, I am both drawn to and repelled by the Cancerian comforts of home and family. I have enjoyed many liberating relationships with men, which as Liz Greene also predicted in Relating, have served to shake me and wake me up, often through the shattering of the relationship itself. I used to prefer relationships with younger men, in which I often played the role of initiator into the deeper mysteries of sexuality. Yet recently, during the "maturing" transit of Saturn to my Venus, I discovered the exquisite joys that an older man can bring. The Greek god Ouranos (Uranus) was the original Sky Father who mated with Gaia, the Earth Mother, to create new life. Uranus therefore represents the essential force of creation. So, it stands to reason that a woman with Uranus conjunct the Sun might carry more than her share of erotic power. We are modern-day priestesses, channeling Uranus's high-voltage energies of awakening to mankind. Because it is our nature to act as a conduit for "higher love," we are rarely satisfied with "normal" relationships. Still, with our all-too-human desires for attachment, it's difficult to sustain the freedom that Uranus requires. We long for the embrace of protective arms, yet our innate need for autonomy demands equal time. Is lasting love possible for the Sun-Uranus Siren? I decided to do some interviews to explore the question further.
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Many
of my closest friends are Sun-Uranus conjunctions-we seem to attract
each other. Non-conformists all, we've long been convinced that
the traditional model of marriage and family was not for us. In
spirit, we lean more toward the ecstatic archetype of the feminine-variously
called the Wise Woman, Muse, Courtesan or even the Siren, whose
seductive song lures sailors to their death.