In Renaissance magic, aeromancy, the act of divining the future by studying cloud formations, wind currents, and all things air, was classified as one of the seven “forbidden arts.” In the sky today, a New Moon is in Gemini and I find myself experimenting with this ancient practice by watching the gray clouds morph as they release what looks like tears from heaven. It’s funny how we try to control and plan our lives around the weather, something we can forecast yet not entirely predict — much like the elusive and multi-faceted nature of Gemini. I think about recent good fortune as bombs simultaneously detonate around the globe. I feel a mixture of shame, helplessness, yet am optimistic and hopeful that the tides will turn. How can these opposing energies coexist? During Gemini season we are shown the full range of possibilities that lie between all extremes.
Gemini’s glyph shows two pillars, light and dark, masculine and feminine, and various polarities that exist in nature and within us. Along with earthy Virgo, Gemini is ruled by Mercury, whose Roman mythology originates from earlier Greek myths of Hermes. The word mercurial is commonly used to refer to something or someone whom you can’t quite pin down; an energy that can be impulsive, changeable and erratic. Mercury, like all the Geminis that blow my mind, are always in some kind of motion be it physical or mental, wearing winged shoes, a messenger’s hat, and armed with a caduceus — a staff with two entwined snakes. Not only do they deliver the goods, but do it with style. As messenger to the gods, and ruler of communication, commerce, eloquence, timing and trickery, we derive the expression, “don’t shoot the messenger.” Known for his speed and swiftness, Mercury the planet was named for its quick 88 day orbit around the sun. Like Spiderman says, “With great power comes great responsibility.” No wonder Gemini often gets a bad reputation since one of its core roles is to carry and convey sometimes uncomfortable yet pertinent news.
Gemini also represents the twins, Castor and Pollux, born in springtime from the full belly of the Empress archetype of Taurus. Like many parent-child relationships, Gemini possesses the curious nature to question authority and challenge, with the innate ability to mirror our similarities and reveal stark differences all at once. With their quicksilver tongue they can sometimes appear to be contrarian or totally blunt, but they’re simply trying to get to the bottom of it. I’m eternally grateful for the Castor to my Pollux, a warm and witty Gemini who sat me down and helped me deal with my sexuality, without shame or judgment, instead using humor and frank honesty. The quintessential “wild child,” of the Zodiac, at least in my experience, freaky genius Gemini wants to taste each flavor of the rainbow before making up their mind as part of a quest for intellectual stimulation, discovery, and truth. In this Gemini season we have to examine our truths and get radically real about the myths we’ve perpetuated and any other white lies we’ve been telling ourselves or other people. Think of Truman Capote’s character Holly Golightly in the film version of Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Her lithe frame, ability to exist in two worlds and maintain her social butterfly charms are all examples of the Gemini vibration. Holly insists that she cannot be trapped down by love or social norms yet her supposed free-spirited lifestyle is simply another type of trap.
In the next few days, find a spot in nature where you can observe the clouds and peer into the big sky. Think about the space between you and the heavens, its vast expansiveness holds many lessons. Ruminate on duality. Divination, like air itself, is transitory and can offer messages but it’s up to you to receive them or look the other way. As you take in these clouds, how do they appear to you? Remember being a child looking up at the sky with a friend, both gazing at the same cloud yet viewing entirely different things? Keep this in mind during our variable Gemini season and stay receptive to whatever messages the clouds may hold for you in their feathery tufts.
Photo Credit: “Identical Twins, Roselle, New Jersey, 1967” by Diane Arbus