AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’ve always been fascinated by the vision of human personality portrayed by natal (aka “birth-chart”) astrology, and to a lesser extent by the cards of the tarot. But in recent years I’ve left behind the highly-nuanced character profiling of “New Age” psychological astrology and evolved (some might say devolved) into the simpler techniques practiced by classical astrologers, both ancient and modern, that invoke the elemental “humours and temperaments.” I’ve brought the same streamlined sensibilities to my tarot reading.

One principle the two have in common is reliance on the four traditional elements of Empedocles and Zoroaster: Fire, Water, Air and Earth. To elaborate on this topic, I decided to examine my own elemental profile as revealed in my natal horoscope. The grass-gazing metaphor of the header alludes to the fact that my make-up is predominantly passive/receptive Water and Earth (although Cardinality in these elements also makes a strong showing as we shall see).

In retirement I spend a good deal of time watching both the physical and figurative grass grow, watering it both in fact and in faith (every gardener’s silent partner) with my abundance of Cancer/Cups emphasis (to which my quarterly water bills attest) and fertilizing it with my Capricorn/Virgo/Pentacles nature, my horticultural prowess and my enslavement to Scotts and TruGreen. The less-visible verdure thrives inside my head and I feed it with ideas.

In fact, all of my “personal” planets and primary angles (Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Ascendant and Midheaven) are encompassed by these rather benign “green-thumb” qualities. The literal acts of cultivation they bestow involve an expansive lawn that gets too much sun and not enough rainfall, while the philosophical tillage is centered on the esoteric matters addressed in this blog.

Cardinality supplies backbone since the Sun/Mercury/Venus conjunction in Cancer and the Capricorn Moon are in close opposition, creating a reciprocating current of egoic, intellectual and emotional self-contemplation. Despite the fact that the aspect pattern is obscured by interception, very little escapes this intense scrutiny. Although Cardinal signs are customarily viewed as “action-oriented,” the equilibrating power of the opposition creates a kind of stasis that prevents either of the “lights” from gaining the upper hand on the other, so they coexist in the relative harmony conveyed by their elemental affinity.

The rest of my personal array consists of Fixed Water (Ascendant) and Mutable Earth (Mars and Midheaven); Jupiter and Saturn stand apart and have their own thing going in a Fire trine that is more communal than individual in focus, while the three outer planets don’t participate in the traditional model. (Two of them – Uranus and Neptune – represent the only Air in my chart, while cadent Pluto in Leo is loosely tied to Saturn and Mars, expressing deeply-buried and thus contained volcanism – just don’t piss me off or that Pluto-ruled Scorpio Ascendant will erupt!)

To fulfill the premise of the title, I realize that if my personality were dominated by active/assertive Fire and Air, I would most likely live in a low-maintenance condo with fake plants where I would spend little time, or in the arid Southwestern United States where grass doesn’t grow unaided and I would have to maintain a “naturalized” yard (i.e. sand, rocks and ornamental cacti). At a subjective level, I would respond much more enthusiastically to the tarot Wands and Swords than to the Cups and Pentacles, and I would be dramatically more extroverted than introverted.

As it stands, while I could use a little stimulating “fire in the belly” from the understated Fire signs, with forensic Scorpio prominent in my chart I need no additional faultfinding incentive from the profoundly silent Air signs so I’m mostly comfortable in my own curmudgeonly skin. Considering the anxiety exhibited by many seekers after the personal, social and spiritual guidance of the tarot, this tranquil, self-accepting state of mind may not be all that common. I guess Old MacDonald has nothing on me.