It's Time to Go 'Full Centaur'

If you had asked me two years ago, I would've said that I was ambivalent about spiritual matters.

I wouldn't have classed myself as an unbeliever; I simply would've said I hadn't been fully convinced yet. Part of me would have gladly accepted the existence of fairies, sprites, and any other number of non-corporeal entities. (To be honest, I would have been pretty excited about any of that - I mean, how cool would just one of those be?)

However, up to that point, nothing had swayed me one way or another. I would've loved some sort of spiritual awakening, but - until then - such a thing appeared to have avoided me. So, I wasn't a believer, nor was I an unbeliever. I was on the fence.

Except in one area.

The zodiac. Because...

Well, there's no other way of saying this: Two years ago I was as much like the typical Sagittarius as a duck is similar to a cow.

Nada. Zilch. It just wasn't me. I had more in common with a turtle than I did with my star sign.

For a start, Sagittarius is a Fire sign. Fire. Ask anyone who knew me - I wasn't Fire. I wasn't even a tiny flame. Fire? I wished.

The core qualities of the Fire signs are action, motivation, and energy. Yep - none of those were me. I was about as action-packed as an episode of 'Sesame Street' and had the motivation of an exceptionally lethargic sloth and the energy of a snail. On Prozac.

We often make inspiring leaders... err, no; not all of us do. I'd been a line manager, I'd led teams, and I'm not even sure anyone involved even realized I was there. Inspiring? Nah.

We're also mutable, which means we tend to be flexible. And we can use our considerable intellect, and passion to create connections between people - and ideas - that normally would not interact. Apparently, we're the great cosmic net-worker.

Except I wasn't.

I used to be crippled by social anxiety if I had to so much as use the telephone. Networking? Unless it took place in my apartment, and I was the only person who needed to be involved, I was out. Frankly, my dear, that wasn't me.

We're all also optimistic (I wasn't); hilarious (nope); and intellectual (I'd met toddlers who could have outwitted me)...

... And because we're SOOOOO intellectual, talkative and encouraging, Sagittarians make excellent teachers, coaches, or - given our innate creativity - writers. I'd been a teacher - they paid me never to return. A coach? Seriously, I can't think of anyone less suited to that job than me. As for being a writer... I've had a few Top Stories but I was yattering on about James Bond, and The Beatles; I don't think the judges of the Pulitzer were taking notice.

Oh, and we're spontaneous, fun, usually with a load of friends, and are supposed to be the best conversationalists in the zodiac... right, this was getting daft now. Literally, NONE of those was me. Not even a smidge.

And then there's the symbol of my star sign itself: The centaur. Half horse, half archer / man-thingy. This cosmic avatar apparently represents optimism and ambition on a global scale. WTF? Optimism and ambition on a global scale?!? I couldn't even manage it on a local level.

Thus, in conclusion, I was a very untypical Sagittarius.

Sadly, it just wasn't me.

Except...

At least, it wasn't me 'then.' But did it 'used' to be? And should I now try to be more Sagittarius?

If that seems a strange question to ask, I need to take you back 18 months.

The Psychiatric Ward

In October 2019, I found myself in a psychiatric ward.

The events that led me there are involved, and - bizarrely - my lack of Sagittarius-ness is actually germane. However, it's even more so given what happened when I left.

Upon discharge, I was still incredibly unwell. I did, with the help of a band of friends I can never truthfully repay, slowly begin to get better. However, there was an issue...

Actually, it was the opposite of an issue. Because it didn't exist. Namely, me. I no longer existed. There was a void where 'Christopher' used to be.

My break-down didn't just - temporarily - rob me of my sanity, it deprived me of who I was. At the very least, who I 'used' to be. I'm not sure what happened to him, but the person who entered that Ward wasn't the same as the one who left a few weeks later.

Trauma permanently changes you. The problem was I didn't understand what I had changed into. I wasn't 'me' anymore. To be honest, I had no idea who he was now.

It was all incredibly confusing.

There was a vacuum at the heart of me.

And it needed to be filled. With something.

In addition to medication, therapy, exercise, and sleep hygiene, one of the other things I poured into that chasm was a huge dollop of Sagittarius-ness.

Let me explain...

I did many, many therapeutic exercises during my recovery - one of the most enlightening was exploring my 'Core Beliefs.' These are the values that make us who we - as individuals - are. They're the things that personally make us 'tick.' One of the easiest ways to be happy is to figure out what your 'Core Beliefs' are, and live a life that fulfils them.

Except, I didn't really know what they were anymore.

In the absence of knowing who I was after my discharge, I had to look back at my past. Not to dwell, or ruminate - but to see what worked for me before. You don't just have to ask yourself, 'when was I last happy?', or 'when was the last time I felt fulfilled?' You've also got to figure out what 'Core Beliefs' were being met during those times.

One of the 'periods' that kept jumping out at me was the single greatest job I'd ever had: Show Manager at Laughterhouse Comedy Club in Liverpool.

Why did I enjoy this job so much? Well, for a start, it was comedy. As someone who grew up worshipping Monty Python in the way other kids worshipped rock stars, this was as close to professional Heaven as it got.

But it wasn't just that.

It was also varied; in the morning I could be in the office, manning the telephones, dealing with ticket sales - at night, stage-managing the actual comedy shows. I loved the fact that no two shifts were ever the same.

I also enjoyed the fact that I'd start and finish at different times every day depending on whether we had a show that night. Some shifts would end with me dodging the Friday revellers thronging the City Center; others with a gentle stroll home in the afternoon sun: The variety invigorated me.

It was also very, very social. The staff were entitled to a few free drinks at the bar after each show, an offer I always - gratefully - made the most of. I'd spend a couple of hours chatting to the other staff, or - if they didn't have to speed off and do another show - the comedians themselves. As we always had different comedians every week, that meant different conversations, with different people.

Yes - the archetypal depressed clown does exist (the grumpiest people I've ever met were also the very same people who had a hundred people laughing hysterically just an hour before). However, most comedians are as much joy off the stage as they are whilst on it.

It was also a creative environment. I got a chance to perform at the club's open mic nights a few times; I wasn't great but I loved it. More than that, despite studying drama at university, and not being a stranger to performing, I had never been as nervous as I was when I was in that tiny 'green room' waiting to go on stage for the first time. To be honest, if there'd been a window in there, I would've fled. I didn't, and I'm still proud of myself today.

However, it was also creative in that we were a small company producing live entertainment; when something went wrong, there wasn't a manual to follow - we had to improvise. Necessity is the mother of invention; as we operated on a limited budget, we had to sometimes get very inventive.

You've probably arrived at the obvious already... The varied work pattern; no two days being the same; a creative and social environment; doing something risky, and bold: The only way my job could have been any more Sagittarius is if my boss had ordered me to walk around carrying a bow and arrow.

It wasn't just a time when my 'Core Beliefs' were being met: I was being - truly - a Sagittarius. And, boy, was it good.

'Core Values' remind us of who we really are, and what really motivates us. The more I looked at it, the more I saw that mine were typically Sagittarius. The times I had been happiest in my life, I was being the Archer. And the more I'd gone against that, the unhappier I'd become.

No, I'm not simply saying that my depression is a direct result of not being more like my star sign. However, there was a direct correlation between my zodiac sign and my 'Core Values.' They aligned. And, as they did, it gave me something concrete to explore, to build on.

Whenever I wasn't fully sure who I was anymore, in addition to looking back over my life (in those years before I started on the spiral that led me to the Ward), looking at the defining characteristics of my zodiac sign also gave me something I could use. In fact, in the majority of instances, what I read was pretty much spot-on.

Adventure... Variation... Bravery... Social participation... Creativity...

I knew I used to be far more Sagittarius than I had become. It was an echo, buried deep inside of me, but I knew I used to be more like the archer. I could remember him. But now he was buried under the rubble of life experiences, and mental illness. It was time to recover him. It was who I was.

It was time to be a bit more Sagittarius (again).

Thanks to Covid, I've not been able to go 'full centaur' yet, but I've made a start.

Like most Sagittarius, I like being around people. My social anxiety makes this tricky, but my mental health is a million times better if I'm not socially isolating myself. And my previous full-time job (teaching English online) did just that. So, I cut down my hours and got myself another job to do in tandem with it ('variation' - another hallmark of my star sign).

I still do a bit of teaching online (after all, Sagittarius love all that - we're teachers, apparently), but I am now also employed as a carer, primarily in the field of palliative care, offering support to people who, due to terminal illness, are approaching the end of their lives.

It's a demanding profession, but I actually enjoy it. I make a difference. Especially right now.

It's only a small step but it feels right. I'm not working on my own, I get to meet some wonderful people, and I'm not just doing the same thing for forty hours every week. I'm being both Sagittarius and meeting a few of my 'Core Values' into the bargain.

As soon as the 'lockdown' is over, I intend to meet many, many more. I'm not sure I'm ready to dive back into the waters of stand-up comedy, but I know the creative side of me is stirring once again, thanks in part to my writing.

I can feel myself slowly moving off that metaphorical fence. I am a Sagittarius. I just haven't been for a while.

And it's time to be the archer once more.

Optimism and ambition on a global scale? Who knows. But I wouldn't be a proper Sagittarius if I didn't at least try.

After all, it's written in the stars.

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