July 27, 2009

Neeti Ray asked me a question. “Have you made your peace with the reactions you get when you tell people what you do?” Speaking to other astrologers, there are quite a few that hold down a nice respectable day jobs and they do not tell people what they do in their off hours. One astrologer said to me, “I wouldn’t want people to think I’m flaky.”
It’s not a secret. Those that practice astrology are subject to a fair amount of censure. Take for instance a young astrologer facing her family . . .
“Mom, Dad, I have something to tell you.”
“I knew it,” exclaimed Mom with a tremble in her voice, “You’re gay.”
“What!” roars Dad.
“No, I am NOT gay.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” says Mom.
“I’m an astrologer.”
“A what?” Mom blinks.
“An astrologer. You know, kinda of like what’s in astrology columns in the newspaper.”
“Not a nice Catholic girl like you! What would the Pope say?” Mom starts crying.
“I hardly think . . .”
“No, you aren’t thinking, are you young lady,” spouts Dad. “We didn’t raise you like that! How did all this start?”
“Well, I found some books in the library . . .”
“See Helen,” Dad smacks his hand on the table, “That’s what you get for allowing your daughter to read.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” says the daughter.
“Heaven has nothing to do with it, young lady. This is the work of the devil. “
“Astrology has nothing to do with devil worship, Dad.”
“Oh, sure, that’s what they tell you at first isn’t it. Then you get all, all involved and the next thing you know you are dancing naked in the woods.”
“That’s Wicca, not astrology, Dad. And that has nothing to do with the devil either.”
“The hell it doesn’t! The bible specifically says astrology is the work of the devil.”
“It doesn’t!”
“It does I tell ya!”
“How would you know? The last time you even saw a bible was during your confirmation 40 years ago. As far as I know you haven’t cracked one open once.”
“Well, that’s true, dear,” says Mom. “You even tossed that bible that Aunt Helen gave us as a wedding gift.”
“You be quiet now!” snaps Dad. “Nothing good is going to come of this. Astrologer! Hmph! “ Stomps out of the back door, slamming it.
“Are you sure you aren’t gay, dear?”
Photo published under a Creative Commons license from Flickr
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