In high
school, I was a complete and utter coward. Overweight, brainy,
too sensitive for my own good, I was a scared and vulnerable
creature. Naturally, bullies lined up to take their shots.
Physical education class in particular was a nightmare. One
such class set the stage for what I remember as one of my
bravest moments.
We were
playing volleyball that day, and — not to put too fine
a point on it — I sucked. Observing me in action as I
shielded my head in terror to avoid getting hit by the ball
was surely either excruciating or hilarious, depending on
your level of compassion. The captain of our team noted my
lack of coordination with frank disdain, maintaining a running
commentary of insults and wisecracks loudly enough so that
I (and everyone else) would be sure to hear them. Finally,
completely fed up and with nothing to lose, I stopped the
action by walking up to her and hissing: "If you have
a problem with me, then talk to me about it. Otherwise,
shut up." Then I turned and walked, shaking with
adrenaline, into the locker room.
I was
still trembling when I came to class the next day. My heart
was in my throat as my tormentor walked up to me, gave me
a long, appraising look - and began chatting to me as though
we were old friends. The rest of the semester was a snap.
It was
a small victory, but many years later, I remember it vividly,
even fondly. Courage is what was needed — simple,
old-fashioned, garden variety spunk — and I didn't think
I had it in me. But that final indignity finally pushed me
over the precipice of good manners, and righteous anger took
the reigns!
In astrology,
Aries and its ruling planet, Mars, symbolize the people
and situations that excite our fear or anger. Even those of
us who are fortunate enough to lead relatively protected lives
still find ourselves in situations — at work, in relationship,
or even on the volleyball court — that require us to
draw upon primal reserves of self-preservation and courage.
It's not always easy to access these impulses, though; they
are mostly overridden by the polite, well-mannered Libran
behavioral guidelines instilled in us from childhood by conscientious
parents. And speaking as a member of society, I must say that's
generally a very good thing indeed. But it's also a reality
that the world can be unkind, and a good relationship with
warrior energy is necessary for survival, confidence, and
self-respect.
When
a rude driver cuts me off in traffic, or the 20-something
behind the counter at my neighborhood cafe serves up attitude
with my espresso, the old fight-or-flight response kicks up,
right on cue. Yet even at middle age, armed with the experience
and confidence of my years, I don't always stand up for myself;
the clever rejoinder occurs to me too late to be any help,
or I'm intimidated by the power of my own temper, or cowed
by the pressure to "make nice." And each time I back down,
I feel a little more afraid, and like myself a little less.
I'm not a little kid anymore; who will take care of me if
I don't take care of myself?
As a
person who spends a significant portion of my life listening
to other people's deep, dark secrets, I can tell you this
without violating any confidences: I am not alone in my fear.
We're all afraid of something, and most of us are afraid of
many things. Fear is not our enemy; in fact, he can
be a real friend, warning us of danger or potential injury.
But just as other friends, such as food or sex, sometimes
become our enemies, so can fear, if it comes to dominate rather
than defend us.
And so,
too, can anger and cruelty, Aries' shadow side, if our Mars
impulses are allowed to run roughshod over the rights and
feelings of others. The bully who tormented me on the playground
is just one example; the guy in the Hummer who was tailgating
me on the freeway yesterday is another. Being a good steward
of Aries and Mars energy relies on the balancing civility
of Libra - the good manners learned at our mothers' knees,
and the good judgment to know which battles need to be fought
and which are better handled with gentler tactics.
How do
you defend yourself when you feel threatened? Do you punch
your enemy right in the kisser (Mars in Aries)? Do you kill
him with kindness (Mars in Pisces) or annihilate him with
a devastating verbal attack (Mars in Gemini)? Most of us could
stand to improve our relationship with our inner warrior and
learn to handle his energy with more finesse. But this Full
Moon in Aries is a fitting moment to pay homage to Mars'
fierce spirit of protectiveness and bravery. You, too, have
memories to savor, stories of courage and pluck when you stood
up for yourself or defended others. Look in the mirror at
this Full Moon, bow to your warrior self, and give thanks
for your brave, Aries heart. The world can sometimes be harsh
for gentle people; isn't it good to know you've got a warrior
looking out for you?
