A Fish Out Of Water

Have you ever woken up one day and discovered everything you thought you knew was wrong? The Brontosaurus is not a real dinosaur, Pluto is not a planet, and, even though my birthday is April 9, I am not an Aries.

For my entire life, Aries was my sun sign. It is the sign I immediately went to when I opened up the horoscopes page. I was proud to be an Aries. I recognized many Aries characteristics in my own personality: fiery, bold, self-aware, independent, impatient, a little selfish, maybe a little aggressive at times. Yet, the traits I most admire in Aries, I never truly embodied. I was never the center of attention and I never wanted to be. I was the wallflower, never drawing attention to myself in a crowd, tight lipped, reserving my opinion in case it upset someone. You better not ask me to give a speech or lead a meeting because all you would see is the door closing behind me as I run away.

Even though I am perhaps the most insecure Aries in the world, I never questioned that I was not, in fact, an Aries. I am supposed to be an Aries and how I longed to be that self-assured, fiery goddess that was my true potential. Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling I was some kind of fraud.

Then, one day, the heavens opened up with a different possibility. I learned of sidereal astrology.

Most horoscopes use tropical astrology, which is what you are probably familiar with. That is, each sign is fixed during a certain period of time, i.e. anyone born between March 21 and April 19 is an Aries. Tropical astrology fixes the vernal equinox to 0 degrees of Aries and calculates the remaining signs from there. However, tropical astrology doesn’t account for a very slight backwards movement of the "fixed" stars which measures about one degree every seventy-two years.

The ancients––Egyptians, Persians, Greeks––used a method called sidereal astrology, which did account for this shifting in the celestial spheres. By this calculation (too complicated for me to explain here), an Aries is born between April 15 and May 15.

By sidereal astrology calculations, I am actually a Pisces.

Let’s talk about Pisces.

According to Mastering the Zodiac, a balanced Pisces is “intuitive, present, tranquil, mindful, empathic, compassionate and connected”.

I am maybe three of these things on a good day, but let’s talk about the imbalanced Pisces:

Ungrounded. Delusional. Escapist. Living in a fantasy. Mindless. Alternatively, lack of faith, hopeless, apathetic, callous, nihilistic, overthinking and stressed. Whoa!

Delusional? Check. Escapist? Check. Living in a fantasy? Check. Overthinking? Check. Nihilistic? Check. Stressed? Check. This was pretty much me for the last fifteen years. Did I mention I am a creative writer who never finishes anything I start, and I live in a state of chronic stress?

I should say, I lived in a state of chronic stress. I have spent the past year of my life in healing transition, where I’m learning how to cope with stress, learning to trust my intuition, learning to be present and mindful and healing wounds that made it nearly impossible for me to connect with myself, let alone others.

So, you see, it doesn’t surprise me that all of my life I have felt like a fish out of water. Pun intended.

I recently had my sidereal chart read, which confirmed my watery origins but also revealed a heavy emphasis on Fire, as well as Water, which explains why I related to an Aries at all. I have several planets in Leo (fire sign) and my Chiron is in Aries.

Our Chiron sign has to do with our spiritual wounding. A Chiron in Aries tends to mean that we aren’t fully aware of our true essence and that we feel like something is somehow wrong with us. This has certainly been my secret existence up until this past year, when I began healing childhood wounds and facing my shadows. Your Chiron also reveals your greatest spiritual strengths. From Parker’s Astrology, written by Judith and Derek Parker, I learned that someone with a Chiron in Aries, such as myself, will find a path to wholeness by overcoming the insecurity that underlies every aspect of our lives, from professional to personal.

To that I must throw my hands up and laugh. That’s all I have to do? Stop being so insecure?

Easier said than done. I promise I have been pursuing this healing journey with an Aries-like veracity over the past year, ripping through the layers I’ve built around myself and learning to connect with my inner wisdom. It’s also gotten me into a little bit of trouble with the rash, impulsiveness that comes with such a heavy emphasis on Fire and Water. Here is a bit of what my reading revealed about me:

“There is often a lack of logical, systematic thought and procedure, with a resulting restlessness and subjective bias. This combination has intensity, emotional extremes, and surprising sensitivity to what others think of them. You are a "whole-hogger," having a marked lack of self-restraint. You may experience big swings in moods. You function in a high-pressure state, and you do best when being challenged.”

Honestly, having my sidereal chart read was like having someone peel my skin back and weigh my soul on a scale.

Learning about the water aspect in my stars has also helped me recognize how my rigidity hurts me. A river doesn't stop because some boulders fall into it. It goes around the obstruction. It goes with the flow and continues toward its destination unperturbed.

While I don't recommend anyone, including myself, live strictly by these characteristic laws of the universe, I do encourage you to have your own sidereal chart read, if you find any of this interesting. We all have stories we've told ourselves, stories we live in that probably aren't doing us any good anymore, if they ever did. Maybe it is time to rewrite your story.

Maybe you, too, are a fish out of water.