Uranus ‘n Me
I don’t think anyone would refer to me as a “nerd” these days, an airhead, possibly — which I, astrologically, have to lay some claim to, but a “nerd,” no. As a child, though, the term would probably have fit. My mother, who was a strange being in her own right, seems to have thought that I, her first born, who looked so much like a dark-skinned version of her, perhaps actually was a dark-skinned version of her and, therefore, by extension, a genius in the making.
I was never that. But it would take a few years for her to become disabused of that idea, consequently, she taught me to read before I was even in school. She let me cut my teeth on books that were designed for older children, but I took to reading as if I had been made for it, as I suspect that I have been. I am, to this day, a voracious reader. You’ll almost always find small pile of books at my bedside, another beside my desk, and yet another at the kitchen table… and one in my car, just in case.
Before school began, I was pretty much left to my own devices as far as reading went… or, for that matter, as far as most things went. We had “help” but those folks mostly took care of the house and meals and cleaning and things like that. I kept to myself and spent a great deal of time reading, working my way up to the Books of Knowledge and the Encyclopedia Britannica where I discovered, to my great delight, the planets. I couldn’t get enough… and I was particularly taken by the planet, you’re in us.
And there’s a perfect illustration of how the planet, Uranus, got me into one of the more embarrassing moments of my childhood. Granted, I had a few of those sorts of moments, mostly because I was easily bored and my mind tended to wander off on its own which got me into numerous humorous situations…. humorous, that is, for other people as a rule. I was usually mortified.
Earlier, as I said the word “Uranus” to my voice activated software, the software decided, on its own, as it frequently does, that what I had said was “you’re in us.” Now, if I say to the aforementioned voice activated software, “the planet, Uranus,” it will recognize the word. But in the previously mentioned embarrassing moment from my childhood, I had not yet discovered that the planet Uranus carried a built-in issue — of course it did; that’s practically what it lives for.
So, one evening, I happened to find myself present at one of my parents’ smaller dinner parties and my father, who was, I suppose proud of his little nerd girl, turned to me and suggested that I share some of what I’d been reading about with the company.
I could not have been more excited. I may have been around six or seven and, while I had been present at numerous dinner gatherings, neither of my parents had ever suggested that I speak and here I was, being asked to share some of my favorite things with their friends and I did so excitedly, via the following sentence, “Daddy!” I exclaimed in a voice that was filled with surprise and delight, “did you know that Uranus rotates sideways?”
What the company — and my parents — heard, though, were the following words, “did you know that your anus rotates sideways?” Literally everyone present — all physicians — burst out laughing. They were still laughing as I fled from the room, almost as embarrassed as I’d ever been with absolutely no idea why everyone had been so uproariously entertained.
I ran to the nearest bedroom and threw myself on the bed, crying. Moments later, my father entered the room to explain to me why what I had said had elicited raucous laughter. I had to admit, even then, it was pretty darn funny. I did, however, choose to stay put until the company left.
In retrospect, it was a pretty Uranian moment.
If you think about it, it seems undeniably apparent that the uniqueness of that Uranian rotation — which is reliably constant — may very well be what lies behind the wavering quality that its influence so dependably delivers from an astrological perspective. Almost inevitably, it’s influence — which, as with every other planet, can range from not-so-strong to STEP-BACK — is a sort of “warping” of the usually expected influences of the planet, sign, (or house!), being affected.
That effect may show up in as one part of a larger signature, as when conjunct Saturn, for instance, where it has sometimes been associated with certain mental disorders. Or, as in the case of my Geminian Uranus placement, where it finds itself cuddled up with Mercury and my Sun sign all in the 8th house, eliciting a somewhat more than expected number of folks feeling free to share with me that I “don’t think like most people.”
No. I don’t. I can’t even imagine how boring life might be if I did. (Oh, wait… yes I can!)
