Astrology and Vanity

I keep an open mind about Astrology.  There seems to be something to the Natal Chart (obviously, ignore the newspapers, except the one in the Onion, which is occasionally funny when he isn’t too nasty), although of course I have no idea how it would work.  If it is true that our consciousnesses create the universe, there is no reason to suppose that there are not some arcane and mysterious currents running deep below the flow of the things we have measured.

The point I wanted to make, though, is that I’m vaguely proud of my chart, which has some unusual elements in it.  Frankly, I’ve been thinking I’m pretty special.  Then it occurred to me that if there were 370,000 people being born a day back then, there are that number of people who have my EXACT chart, virtually everything. I’m not so special after all.  This made me laugh a bit, and was a useful and needed thought.

There is a necessary dance between vanity and self confidence, between submissiveness and humility, between realism, and useful grandiosity.  All of them mix together.  I haven’t quite opposed them right, because there are many possible continiums to draw. Sometimes if you are ridiculously proud, you are full of it.  Sometimes even though your aim is high, your understandings of your own capacity are accurate.

All of us are prone to self delusion and illusion.  I picture stupidity as this mangy, Cupid knockoff flying around on one wing, and shooting us as often as we give him chances to.

Another metaphor I know I have posted somewhere is that stupidity is like the barbell in the bench press.  We have to keep constant pressure on it to keep it from crushing us.