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Chiron's Dual Nature, by Martin Lass

(Article originally published in The Llewellyn Journal.)

My journey with Chiron began in 1992 when, while browsing the shelves of the Theosophical Society bookstore in Sydney, Australia, the ultimate cliché happened: a book fell off the shelves and landed at my feet. I looked around, half expecting Shirley MacLaine to come around the corner! Not seeing her, I picked up the book and looked at the title—Chiron and the Healing Journey, by Melanie Reinhart. Not interested in asteroids at the time, I simply put the book back and went on my merry way. Little did I know at the time that this event would be the first in a series of synchronicities marking Chiron's forceful entry into my life.

Having studied astrology since the age of twelve and having practiced professionally for many years, I felt as though there was still something missing—a key that would unlock the astrology chart and bring together what seemed at the time to be a whole lot of disconnected pieces. Interestingly, I felt that my life at the time was also a collection of such pieces—disconnected, disjointed, unrelated and misshapen.

In the midst of this inner and outer turmoil, I remember calling out to whoever might have been listening in the greater cosmos: Why was my life so fragmented? Why did I feel so alone? Why did I feel like an outsider, like an alien on an alien planet? Why did I feel as though there was something missing, something that seemed just out of my grasp, something that might otherwise bring together the scattered pieces of my life?

A few weeks later, a psychic friend of mine called me out of the blue, saying that she had some messages for me from her spiritual guides. She wouldn't tell me the messages on the phone, so we arranged to meet later in the week.

In the intervening days, I had a powerful dream. In the dream, a woman was dying in my arms. It may have been my wife, my mother, my daughter or a lover—it didn't matter, except that it was female. In the midst of my anguish, she died. Nearly overcome with emotional pain, I dove down toward the pain, into the darkness of my psyche. As I approached the source of the pain, it became almost too much to bear. At that moment, though, the woman came alive again, and my pain was transformed into pure love. With my chest almost bursting with this love, I awoke, tears streaming down my face. In hindsight, I recognized that a great healing had taken place. I had recovered my disowned feminine side.

A few days later, my psychic friend came to visit. Among other things, she told me that I needed to know about Chiron and to work with its energies. She said Chiron was the "wounded healer," and that it was all about recovering and healing the lost pieces of our lives—our disowned and unloved parts.

As she spoke about Chiron, I felt some of the pieces of my life come together: the bookstore cliché, my quest for the missing key to unifying astrology charts, the feeling of being an outsider, the disconnectedness of my life and, of course, my recent dream. An underlying connection and pattern began to emerge, and, somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I felt a door open, a door to a new yet somehow ancient and more direct understanding of the living world. Although I did not know where this would lead me, I knew at that moment, without knowing exactly why, that I had found the key I had been searching for.

The upshot of it all was that, for the first time, I looked at where Chiron sat in my own natal chart—its sign, house, aspects, travel, and current transits. I was floored, to say the least! It answered many questions about the way I felt about myself and about my life—particularly in relation to feeling unloved and in relation to the way in which I expressed my woundedness.

In the ensuing months, I would also see that placing Chiron into the astrological picture would answer the many questions I had concerning how to unify the otherwise disconnected pieces of the astrology chart. What were previously collections of clinical, dry, disconnected planetary influences were transformed into living, breathing, dynamic pictures of people's lives.

Perhaps the most striking feature of this series of synchronicities, though, lay in my Chiron transits. At the time of the aforementioned meeting, a conjunction of Chiron and Mercury was transiting my natal Sun-Uranus conjunction and I was fast approaching my Chiron half-Return. Moreover, shortly after this meeting, I experienced a spontaneous and cathartic past-life memory of the loss of a loved one. When I later examined the transits, I found that transiting Chiron was exactly conjunct my natal Uranus, and transiting Venus was exactly conjunct my natal Sun. I needed no more convincing! In the ensuing years, it became apparent that Chiron had chosen me to be an emissary, a spokesman for its healing messages.

The journey of the last decade and more has been an enlightening one, with Chiron as my primary planetary guide. It has been a journey of delving deeply into my own wounds and issues, as mirrored by Chiron in my natal chart. This is only half the story, though. The other half has been the miraculous journey of healing—not only for me, but also for the many people close to me, as well as for the many clients with whom I have worked. True to its astrological glyph, Chiron was (and is) certainly the key.

As wondrous as those early years were, I did not suspect at the time how vast a picture Chiron would eventually paint. Nor did I realize how relevant (and obvious, in retrospect!) it was that Chiron was discovered exactly when it was.

In short, Chiron's discovery augurs a new paradigm, a new way of looking at ourselves and at the world around us. It augurs a revolution in consciousness and consciousness's connection to health and disease and function and dysfunction—a revolution the likes of which the world has not known in over two thousand years.

Article originally published in The Llewellyn Journal. Copyright Llewellyn Worldwide, 2005. All rights reserved.

I have never fit in with life; I've always felt like an outsider. I find life to be mundane. I don't want to be here. I'm not suicidal, I just have always felt that I am not from here and want to go home. I have even caught myself stating that I am not from this world. I have struggled with this all of my life and am trying to understand why. I have talked to psychiatrists and they say that I'm saner than the average person, so I know I'm not crazy. What could be causing this?

Rita

Susyn:

Feeling like an outsider is more common than you might think, so you can rest assured that you are definitely sane. You probably have a more sensitive, spiritual side than the people you come in contact with on a regular basis, as well as awareness that you see the world differently from others.

Some people believe that this sense of not belonging is alien-related, meaning that they are from another planet, galaxy or universe. Some theorize that they have one alien parent or have come to earth from another planet. There are even support groups for folks who believe they are Star People, Indigo Children, etc. If this idea resonates with you, you may want to investigate some websites devoted to the idea of Star Kids or Star Seeds. While there is nothing you can do to prove or disprove this theory, the important thing is for you to figure out how to come to terms with the sense that you do not belong here.

There are also people born into this world with psychic gifts who relate all sorts of stories about growing up and feeling out of place and different from those around them. For most, it was not until they became aware of their gifts and connected with other people who felt the same way that they began to understand why they had always felt so different. Mainstream society does not acknowledge or encourage metaphysical gifts, which can make those of us who are especially psychic feel like we are always moving against the tide.

You don't mention having had any psychic experiences or struggling with the gift of clairvoyance. However, you were born into a generation bent on reclaiming personal freedoms and breaking down old schools of thought, and this could certainly contribute to the struggles you describe. Many people who grew up during the 60s and 70s share your feelings of not belonging here; in fact, this is one reason why many turned to drugs, alcohol or other escapist behaviors.

Whichever group you fall into (and perhaps you fall into more than one), the most important thing you can do to alleviate this sense of not belonging is connect with other people who struggle with the same issues. Whether you get involved in a group that focuses on spiritual activities or choose another outlet, it is important that you engage with kindred spirits who can validate what youíve been feeling and offer you their support. Meeting and dialoguing with people who understand and share your feelings should help you to feel much less alone in this world.

*****

Mata:

The more we evolve spiritually, the more likely we are to remember where we were before we came into this life. When this remembering doesn't take place on a conscious level, it can leave us with the feeling you describe: a vague longing for something more and somewhere else, a hunger for something we know exists but haven't tasted for a very long time.

Though incarnating is a wonderful adventure, some souls are actually a bit reluctant to leave the bliss of other realms for the many challenges of this one. It's sort of like going back to college for your junior year even though you know it's going to be a taxing, challenging sort of experience. Since going back to school is the best way to get where you are trying to go in life, you make yourself do it, but you're not entirely happy about it.

These feelings are often seen in young children who remember their past lives and say things like, I want to go to my old house or Where is my wife? or I want my other mother. They may also refer to things that they used to do when they were big.

Though these memories usually fade as a child grows more rooted in this world and the relationships he's currently involved in, that doesn't mean they disappear. Instead, these memories become the longings, interests, inclinations and talents that make us unique individuals. For example, a boy who flew a fighter plane in a past life may deveop a cherished collection of model planes, while a girl who was a gifted pianist in a past life may demonstrate a remarkable natural talent from a very young age.

My point is that part of us knows that we are only here for a short time. Much like travelers to foreign lands grow homesick after a while, deep down we all know that life on Earth is a temporary adventure and our true home lies elsewhere. It's natural to long for that special feeling of home and to miss the people we've loved deeply in other lives who aren't present in this one.

Fortunately, there are things you can do to ease your homesickness. You can reconnect with your spiritual home via practices like meditation, yoga, and out of body experiences. The first time I traveled outside my body, I was overcome with a feeling that was deeply familiar but unlike anything I'd experienced during this lifetime, and I knew I was remembering a feeling from beyond this life. If you don't feel at home here, you might find the feeling you're looking for by astral traveling to other worlds.

Astrea:

Many times in life we hear, "You will always have what you NEED, but not necessarily what you WANT." Your spirit must have needed to experience the feeling of leaving your human body, and the suggestion in the next chapter of Sylvia Brown's book was all it took to get you there.

Even though you hadn't read it yet, your SOUL recognized the title of that chapter as something it had been seeking, and your soul, knowing that you had that reference to read after your experience, got with it and out you went!

While I don't usually recommend her books, Sylvia Brown has a wide reaching and powerful effect on lots of people. A Gemini like you would be able to relate easily to her writing and put it to good use. Synchronicity - you gotta love it!

I like your description of "getting caught." That's exactly what it feels like, isn't it? One minute you're free and hovering above the room, and the next minute, ZAP! back down into your corporeal form you go!

As a little kid, I loved that "feeling of return." With practice, most of the time we can control that event, but sometimes, when our physical ears hear a distracting noise or something else occurs to knock us back into reality, back we go. With practice you will be able to control your return better.

I find it interesting that you were visiting your mother-in-law and not someone in your own genetic family. Evidently, you and your husband got married for reasons that are even deeper than love. His family's interest in "psychic stuff" will nurture your children in such matters and help them to grow into their own abilities.

You'll never have to be concerned that when your daughter visits them, she'll be discouraged from exploring her own psychic life and power. My parents encouraged me to develop my psychic senses in a time when it wasn't nice to even discuss such things in public. Heck, it's STILL not considered a great topic at the dinner table in some families!

Your kids will get to talk about it ALL and ask questions and read and study. This is going to give them such an edge in life! Talk with your husband about how you want to present this to your kiddos, so that you are united in your approach and ready to tell them their experiences are all natural and okay.

A word or two of warning: Geminis often have difficulty staying grounded in REAL LIFE. Don't get so strung out on your ASTRAL life that you neglect what you're doing here on Earth.

You are at the beginning of a long journey to learn where your power really lies. Try to be patient with this process and take your time.