I was wondering if the spate of attention I’m giving Ceres (or Ceres is drawing me toward!) warranted a little investigation. The current picture is this: Ceres is in apparent retro motion in Leo, in close quincunx to Juno in Pisces–and Juno is sextile Saturn in Capricorn, within range of a quincunx to Ceres, so making Ceres apex to a Finger of God. Why does it seem Ceres is so often involved in a Finger? Maybe that’s about Ceres as a natural expression of the flow of energy, with the influences exerted by Nature and our own expressions of Ceres (Nature, agriculture, the power of authority, negotiation, food sensitivities and allergic reaction, to name just a few) ways of dealing with and responding to the extant energy stream (and so to power, and to its consequences) in the world.
This particular Finger implies that empowerment through dreams, visions, creativity, or the loss of this through deception or misunderstanding couples with the reality picture to result in a personal (Leo) experience of the extents of our authority, our body’s ability to process food and/ or the environment, of our role in nurturing or guiding another (a maternal role), and/ or in a need to negotiate in order to see our dream or project realized, or our authority (perhaps even our autonomy) returned. Ceres is also widely sesquiquadrate Vesta, pinpointing the home environment and something to be learned there (Sagittarius placement) that can help further or restore our empowerment options.
And here’s a re-post from the blog: What You’re Asking: Ceres and the Death of Shelley, Synchronicities, and Rejecting a Gemini Man
What does Ceres have to do with health?
In mythology Ceres’ Greek predecessor, Demeter, was goddess of Nature, abundance, and the fruits of the Earth, but by the time she reached Rome and her current name and form, she was decidedly more tame: a goddess of agriculture, of Nature that’s been shaped and subjugated to man. That suggests that in modern conception she may deal with the balance of the body and its vulnerabilities to natural elements, of being overwhelmed from without (drowning, buried in a landslide, struck by lightning, for instance, or from things like allergens and starvation) and from within by invasion (of germs, viruses, bacteria, fungi). She doesn’t offer a total picture of health in the natal scenario or by transit, but does speak of certain conditions one may be prone to, or illnesses susceptible to, aside from her other meanings: a sense of personal power and authority, a maternal interest in others (which can easily tip into a controlling one), territoriality, and negotiation.
Romantic poet Percy Shelley (4 August 1792 10 PM Horsham England) was just coming up on a Lunar Return in Pisces the day he drowned in a boating accident (8 July 1822 Lerici Italy). He has Ceres natally conjoined the Sun, Venus, Pallas, and Uranus in Leo in the Whole Sign 4th (and though Juno’s close enough to the Sun, it’s too wide for Ceres, in my opinion); Ceres is also opposed Pluto and quincunx the natal Moon and Sedna in Pisces. Already we can see that Ceres was a vital part of the life, and so of the death as well. In the context of the drowning event, the natal scenario suggests sudden accidents (Uranus) based on unwise decisions (Pallas–staying on the water despite the storm) activated the Self-destruction he had always been conscious of, and perhaps at times had to fight (Sun opp Pluto), with Ceres’ involvement implicating the elements, the weather, even potentially activating an emotional attachment to the water, and a need to adjust (the quincunx) to prevent getting lost in it! (the Pisces Moon)
On the day he died, Shelley’s Ceres was contacted exact by degree by the transiting South Node, suggesting a ‘pull back’ to a previous (pre-birth?) state; t Ceres was opposed natal Mercury in the 5th=the elements literally in opposition to the lung function; t Merc was conjoined n Chiron in Cancer in the 3rd of lungs, breathe=water water everywhere, water that injures; t Mars was conjoined the n NN, spurring actions and choices that take one into the future; and t Earth sextiled the n Moon-Sedna, forming the base of a Finger of God with apex n Ceres-Pallas=here’s a recipe for the environment ganging up with instincts and emotions to prompt that natal judgment of Nature. Shelley may have believed he was very practical (Pallas) in his relationship to the elements and the natural world (Ceres), feeling that instinct (Sedna) and emotion (the Moon) would inform his choices. There’s a sense that he didn’t fear them, that instead the Pisces Sedna-Moon may have seen the obliteration threat of the natal Pluto opposition as a kind of Oneness with Nature–absorption rather than obliteration. Too, the transiting Sun had just run over his natal Black Moon Lilith=he may have been more than a little in the mood to explore the darkness.
To A Star
Sweet star, which gleaming o’er the darksome scene
Through fleecy clouds of silvery radiance fliest,
Spanglet of light on evening’s shadowy veil,
Which shrouds the day-beam from the waveless lake,
Lighting the hour of sacred love; more sweet
Than the expiring morn-star’s paly fires:–
Sweet star! When wearied Nature sinks to sleep,
And all is hushed,–all, save the voice of Love,
Whose broken murmurings swell the balmy blast
Of soft Favonius, which at intervals
Sighs in the ear of stillness, art thou aught but
Lulling the slaves of interest to repose
With that mild, pitying gaze? Oh, I would look
In thy dear beam till every bond of sense
That was definitely written by a guy with Sun-Venus-Ceres-Pallas-Uranus conjoined, all opposed by Pluto!
Synchronicities have been everywhere lately–have you noticed that for you, too? Those little mentions or phrases or events or people that grab your attention simply by the unlikely way they’re brought into one’s compass repeatedly within a short period. To my mind that signals we’re in a kind of flow, that attunement to the optimum vibrational level for you is very close to perfect–and that implies intuition is sharp and accessible, that information is yours to pluck right out of the air, that you can ‘know’ without anyone telling you. Though our tendency is to breeze through these interludes, to remark ‘Isn’t that strange?’ when we hear the same song or its lyrics or mention of the singer in every store and elevator and TV show and conversation we’re exposed to the entire weekend, and at the same time to be very focused consciously on the here-and-now, what we really need to do is pause; this is a point when we are cruising along with a lot of our perceptual abilities working below the surface, and we can see the world very clearly, if we are willing to. We can get our questions answered, if we’ll only stop looking out, and take a moment to look within.
rejecting a Gemini man
Are you thinking there’s some magic word (he’s a Gemini, after all) that will make him take it well, not make a fuss, even see it as a gift? There’s not, and it’s likely that if he senses you are trying to out think him (by manipulating or being one step ahead, the latter of which you automatically are if you know something–that you intend to reject him–that he doesn’t) he’ll be very resentful, indeed. Geminis are highly focused on thinking, processing info, communicating, networking–so he may already be aware, whether it’s through the grapevine or through reading your body language and tone in previous encounters, that you aren’t interested. That puts you in a precarious position: if he does know and he’s still coming at you, he’s forcing you to say it outright, and if he doesn’t know, he’s going to feel especially upset that he didn’t parse it out ahead of time (it’s a Gemini thing–they always think they should’ve known!) All you can do, really, is send a clear, consistent, and polite message through every pore of your Being and, obviously, word spoken: no thank you. Problems will only arise if you’ve been ambivalent in your feelings or in your behavior, wrongly believing that will ‘let him down easy’ (and if so I bet you’re horoscope is chock full o’ Water signs). Come clean without engaging in any way that sends the wrong (that is, an enmeshed behavioral or contradictory) message, and it should go fine–the last thing you want to do, and he wants to feel you’ve done, is mislead him.
I hope you’re having a great week!
We can not do reblog of your article on Ceres?, thanks
Hi! Re-blog has been disabled on this blog. Thank you for asking–jd
Had to laugh with your referring to Shelley, I was reflectingvthe other day on how his wife, Mary’s classic, “Dr Frankensteins Monster” as in the world/monster we had created is running amok & malfunctioning big time. We need more classic creative geniuses like that couple 😉 hahaha!
PS Ceres is currently conjunct my MC & I have Chiron at 5 Pisces opposite Pluto in Virgo, so in reviewing thanks to your current Ceres articles, I understand how it is causing/affecting my standing VERY firm of late on my personal values as a mother. Very insightful 😉
Thank you–glad it’s been of help 🙂
Thanks for posting.
That must be the reason why I enjoy Shelley’s poetry so much : I also have Sun opposed Pluto on the Leo-Aquarius axis!
From ‘to a skylark’ :« Waking or asleep,
Thou of death must deem
Things more true and deep
Than we mortals dream,
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream? »
Keats, the other romantic English poet, had a last request when he died of tuberculosis at age 25 : to be placed under a tombstone bearing no name or date, only the words, “Here lies One whose Name was writ in Water.”
His Sun, conjunct Neptune, BML and Venus in Scorpio, was quincunx Saturn/Moon in Gemini (his father died when he was 9 and his mother 6 years after, of tuberculosis, as well as his brother) ; his nCeres was in the 8th house of death.
At the time of his death, tCeres conjunct tPallas in Sagittarius (he was abroad in Rome) was square tSun in Pisces conjunct t NN, Mercury, Pluto and Jupiter all in Pisces, while tMoon was in Scorpio.
Water, water, water, indeed ! Here too, Ceres probably played a part.
from ‘Ode to a nightningale’
…. « for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call’d him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy! »
Hi Katia! Not surprised about the astrological commonalities between Shelley and Keats–after all, it just seems logical that two romantic poets would carry shared themes in their lives (and apparently, their deaths as well). Thanks for adding so much interesting info!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ceres is often one I forget when pondering my life (I would like to swear I keep that to a minimum but I probably shouldn’t) but I inevitably circle back around and it is always right there with answers and direction.
My adult life has almost been ruled by Ceres’ themes, at least since my spontaneous one-way ticket to South America at 21, which led to being deathly ill for two years with an antibiotic-resistant parasite, and vaguely sick for years after. I have since dealt with (am still dealing with, will always deal with) other internal invasions or sensitivities to external pathogens. Pluto’s influence has been felt mixed in, having spent some time in moldy, decaying squats and other unhealthy structures. In general I feel like I’m just allergic to civilization, but dialing in a little more specifically I can at least say rotten, chemically-laden building materials aren’t the stuff of phenomenal health.
Having it rising in Pisces, nothing impedes my flow of energy into the world more than letting my diet slip, but whenever I heave my weight into righting that, and am good at keeping it between the lines, suddenly everything starts going better. Strict diet along with a few key tinctures and herbs and oils, and sauna and cold water thermogenesis use, and attention to circadian rhythm, has me feeling pretty ok these days. Sleeping in the woods most nights (truck camper style) is also becoming my routine. There is something very grounding and heartening about hearing nature’s sounds basically at all times, and being more in tune with the ebb and flow of temperature, weather, light, etc.
It’s always been a bit wearying being buffeted by forces from both within and without but a useful metaphor for myself has been to see my body as a ship, or more something like a janky raft, on a sea; my absolute favorite extension of that metaphor is based on the Kon-Tiki, where they would often take apart and reassemble their raft mid-voyage! There’s always a few pieces to keep you afloat.
Well told, Zack. Thank you for sharing. You are a prime, living and breathing, fluid and responsive example of Ceres within the individual, and your insight is astute and invaluable. I feel the same about sleeping outside–it’s soothing and reassuring in a way nothing else is. Wishing you the best on your travels–jd
LikeLiked by 1 person
The territoriality angle factors in as well, since that seems to be the same thing just a few steps removed from my own physical body. I’ve never been one for borders or even signs of any kind but I’ve recently, reluctantly, had to put up a few posted signs because of encroaching development on our land leading to strangers being a little too… porous with boundaries, shall we say. My border clan ancestors might chuckle a little that I have been reduced to living alone in a little box that spews it’s own toxic by-products, surrounded on most sides by corporate, plastic construction, grumbling about kids that leave trash, randomly break stuff, and shoot each other with ridiculous airsoft guns, but whatever, I’d probably laugh right back at their hairdos.
Soon: sailing lessons.
You’re probably okay until you find yourself screaming, “Get off my lawn!”
Ceres and territoriality certainly go hand in hand–about 3.5-4 months ago my Ceres took a punch (by square) from t Mars, and I discovered that our neighbor on the downhill side was digging UNDER OUR FENCE, making it lean horribly and threatening to undermine two very large pines. So far, no resolution. Ceres does not stand for porous boundaries–may we both prevail!
Ohh, sailing lessons, nice!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Why were they digging under your fence? And I’m finding a lot to chew on, thank you!
I don’t know, and you’re welcome! I think it’s a thoroughly misguided attempt to claim a couple of feet more territory–or they’re just idiots, I can’t decide.
LikeLiked by 1 person