Sabian symbol for 28 Virgo. Photo by Ken Whytock
The Sabian Symbols are channeled material that describe each of the 360 degrees of the zodiac. They were channeled in 1925 by Elsie Wheeler with the direction of Marc Edmond Jones. The Sabian Symbols were popularized by Linda Hill in her book The Sabian Oracle: 360 Degrees of Wisdom.
You can find a list of the Sabian Symbols here.
Looking at my birth chart, I have Uranus at 27 degrees Virgo.
The Sabian Symbol reads: A bald headed man in uniform has seized power.
Note: the Sabian symbols are a bit funky in relation to the degrees in a natal chart. This is because there is no 0 degrees of any sign, no 0 degrees Aries. The Sabian symbols start with 1 degree Aries. Therefore, any point at 0 degrees Aries (and any minutes) corresponds to the first degree of Aries and the Sabian Symbol for 1 Aries. This is the same principle as the year 1981 belonging to the 20th Century.
Uranus in the chart can be innovative, eclectic, or alienating.
What this symbol means to me is the good ol’ boy network.
I’ve always been repulsed, yes repulsed by certain men in authority positions. Those authority positions can be well described by the good ol’ boy network.
In the good ol’ boy network, women aren’t viewed as capable of too many things beyond, hospitality, nursing, teaching kids etc. Women’s lib hasn’t caught up with them yet. If they walk into a doctor’s office, and a woman walks in the examining room, they ask to speak to the doctor.
Beyond the clearly sexist worldview, the good ol’ boy network is just that, a network. These guys are connected through family ties or schools such as Texas A&M (ooh slam!), or sometimes just the profession they are in.
The unifying factor for the good ol’ boys is that they don’t like change. And in many cases, women represent that change.
So the bald headed guy who has seized power, he’s got the bald head so he’s supposed to be the authority. But he seized the power, and that pisses me off.
My natural inclination is to avoid the bald headed guy at all costs.
My Uranus
In my previous life, I was a wildlife biologist. That’s a pretty male dominated profession. And there were plenty of guys in government jobs, with the attitude of, “Hey, little lady, that’s cute, you wanna be a wildlife biologist.”
I would see these guys at conferences and avoid them like the plague. I just didn’t want to play their game. I was the odd man out.
The last job I held as a wildlife biologist was a nightmare. The director of the program was literally a short, tyrant of a man (though not bald), who wanted me out. In my eyes, he wanted me out because I was everything he wasn’t and he wanted to fill the program with members of his club.
The woman who held the position before me told me she left because of the director.
The point of this is not to have me lay out my victim story to you.
This is me not owning my Uranus and having it show up as bald men seizing power in my life.
If, at that point, I had been in touch with my Uranus and owning it, I would have embraced my innovative ideas, and not felt alienated by my circumstances. I could have used my personal freedom to move toward people who embraced innovation and welcomed change.
Am I there yet?
Not completely. But at least I know why I am repulsed by the bald headed man who seized power.
PS, I looked really hard for a picture of myself as a wildlife biologist, but alas, all these things have been lost. That’s a story for another time.
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