THE FOLLOWING IS COPYWRITTEN MATERIAL
NO PART OF IT MAY BE REPRODUCED
WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THE AUTHOR
This is Part 6 of a 9-Part Series
from a previously unpublished article
Previous posts in this series include:
The Impossible Identity Dream
A second kind of dream I have noted during inconjunct periods is what I call an Impossible Identity dream. Perhaps if I am willing to entertain the kind of loss of identity precipitated by the first category of inconjunct dream, the Impossible Identity dream can point the way toward something new, something else, something undefined but intensely alive – perhaps an exciting step forward into my own never-ending journey into the unknown vastness of identity beyond ego.
With Jupiter semi-sextile Moon & quincunx Sun, I watch a college professor morph into a Jewish rabbi.
With transiting Pluto semi-sextile my natal Venus/Jupiter, I meet a character that is a cross between Neil Young, the Count de Monte Cristo, and a neighbor down the road.
With Venus quincunx Mercury, I encounter an intelligent creature with bluish skin.
With transiting Sun semi-sextile my natal Moon and quincunx my natal Sun, I dream about a heroic figure in a black mask and cape – dressed like a cross between Batman and Tinkerbell.
These sorts of dreams leave me with puzzles to solve – the kind of puzzle where unbeknownst to me, pieces are missing; or perhaps where two very different puzzles have been mixed together in the same box – astrological koans, of a sort, with no neat answer the rational mind can completely embrace.
I could ask myself, “How is Batman like Tinkerbell? How are they different? And what would it be like if they co-existed in the same being?” But this sort of analysis can only take me so far. Analysis, in fact, is not the point. Maybe in some way, as yet unknown to me, I am both Batman and Tinkerbell. I have an opposition in my natal chart between Sun and Moon and my rational mind tells me – oh, this is about balancing the internal Masculine and Feminine within me – an assessment which appeals to my Jungian sensibilities. So this is an obvious and safe place to begin, even though I already know it will only really take me to the trailhead of the journey to which it beckons me.
Batman is often depicted as a dark, brooding character, focused on seeking revenge for the death of his parents by fighting crime – not with superpowers, but through cunning, physical prowess, and sheer force of will. With my Sun in Sagittarius (square Saturn/Mars), I can see my tendency to occasionally brood with a dark cloud over my head as I fight some dire crusade in the caricature of Batman. I often rail in my darker moments about the impending doom of a world going to hell in a hand basket. In the land cooperative where I live, I am often the one to insist that the emperor has no clothes, and often wind up the proverbial messenger riddled metaphorically with AK7 bullet holes for conveying the message. As an imaginal astrologer with a background in science, I often argue fruitlessly with combatants in both camps, each of whom think I belong to the other. The dark knight prepared for battle – moi? Absolutely.
Meanwhile, Tinkerbell is an ephemeral fairy – fickle, unpredictable, and fond of sprinkling others with pixie dust that helps them fly when they think happy thoughts. With my Moon in Gemini (trine Neptune), by stark contrast on the other side of the impossible identity, I can see my tendency to take flight in magical, wishful thinking and fantasy: Yes, the world is a dark and foreboding place. But I am invisible, can move through it undetected, and am immune to its evil influence. Yes, almost everyone I know, and I am sure most of those I don’t know are suffering. But with the magical pixie dust of my insights as an astrologer with pointy hat, poring over ancient maps etched by starlight, I can make it better.
Clearly I have my Batman side and my Tinkerbell side. But, the actual task of holding both Batman and Tinkerbell in consciousness at the same time is harder than it ought to be – and would be if this were an opposition or a simple balancing act we were talking about. It’s not. It’s an inconjunct and a blind juggling of mismatched parts. If I center myself in Batman mode, I cannot “see” Tinkerbell. Tinkerbell does not compute or make sense. And vice versa. I cannot easily brood about the state of the world and think happy thoughts at the same time. I cannot remain invisible and transcend the dark gravity of the world if I am embroiled in a battle that seems worth fighting.
And yet, both Batman and Tinkerbell are essential to my wholeness. This is the dilemma posed by an impossible identity dream.