
Artwork by Linda Garland
Throughout April we have been confronted by initiatory challenges brought to us by a slew of planets moving through Aries. The Sun recently entered Taurus, so things are beginning to consolidate and settle, but with Mars, Mercury, Saturn, and Neptune still marching through Aries, its themes are still up for us. Saturn and Neptune in particular reflect a long term struggle with Aries that we are wrestling with collectively.
Whether through astrological texts or simply observing Aries people, we are often reminded of the impulsiveness, assertiveness, and trailblazing aspects of Aries. It is a sign linked with aggression and rage when encountering blocks to its target, and visionary leadership when expressed wisely for the sake of a collective goal.
One important keyword for this first sign of the zodiac is "courage". It derives from the Latin word cor, meaning "heart". Like the heart, courage can be false or true. At its best it is driven by conscience, the wisdom of the heart that arises with an immediacy of empathy when called to act.
Courage is an essential quality that motivates most of what Aries does. But it is well known that there is a fine line between courage and stupidity, or perhaps with Aries it's between courage and impulsivity. Aries often acts before thinking, spurred on by a spike in energy that seems to command "I'm going that way, at any cost." This often leads Aries to unconsciously stumble into one of its less commonly mentioned features, that of sacrifice.
The myth of Aries–the Latin word for "ram", derived from an earlier word for "jump" or "spring"–involves a magical ram that is sacrificed after performing a heroic deed, its golden fleece becoming a highly sought after treasure that is eventually uplifted to the stars as the Aries constellation. There are many ancient myths that express sacrifice as an important aspect to the renewing life of Spring. Birth cannot happen without death.
The first day of Spring, the vernal equinox, begins the transit of the Sun through the sign of Aries. It is a moment where the ecliptic, or path of the Sun through the zodiac, crosses the Earth's equator, causing equal lengths of day and night. Both Passover and Easter take place at this time of year to honor the sacrifice and rebirth that is symbolized by Aries, a spiritual resurrection that is the divine promise behind the intersection of spirit (ecliptic) with matter (equator).
The story of Jesus crucified on the cross near the Spring Equinox has ancient roots deep in the pagan traditions of sacrificing lambs (young rams) and early vegetation on that first day of Aries. The Sun, or Son, or "lamb of God", has been sacrificed on the equinoctial cross to be reborn as a divine, or celestial, being; just as the golden ram was sacrificed and reborn as the zodiac's first constellation.
The word sacrifice comes from the Latin words sacer–"sacred"–and facere–"to make". To sacrifice is to make something, or ourselves, sacred or holy. We do this, for example, by willingly giving up something materially valuable for the sake of spiritual grace. We let go of what keeps us weak from fear or self-serving desire so that we may be strengthened and unified in love. We sacrifice a lower love so we may attain a higher one.
Sacrifice can come in many forms, but most often it shows up in small ways. We may sacrifice our time to help a loved one, or sacrifice energy and comfort to train and strengthen our bodies, or sacrifice the love of familiarity for the sake of starting a new life in a new place. Or we may courageously step forward into a new experience that moves us to slough off some old fear or belief that has caged a piece of our heart. In any case, a richer experience is gained from giving something up when it is a move towards wholeness, or holiness. Indeed, each day we live is a sacrifice, a step closer to death, the most holy sacrifice of all–the reuniting of our soul with the wholeness of Spirit.
Sacrifice can also come in big ways, unexpected and heartrending. War, a feature of Mars, the planetary ruler of Aries, destroys lives including and beyond the bodies it kills. It demands the greatest sacrifices from all it touches. Our modern world likes to pretend we have moved beyond the barbarism of human sacrifice to appease the gods, as if those gods are dead. But how is killing civilians in far off countries in the name of conquest and profit any different from Roman sacrifices made to propitiate Mars and Jupiter?
Whether from war, natural disaster, or human insanity, when a brutal loss affects us personally the ego is stunned out of making any rational meaning of it. In such cases, the courage of Aries is invoked by continuing to live each day, to make meaning of what we can, and summon faith in the purpose of loss as a deeply transformative process that reforges us in the fire of divine grace. At its most intense, Aries symbolizes the giving of our very soul to a fierce resurrection of consciousness.
No matter how we are called into it, sacrifice forces a reckoning with ourselves that can turn our Aries-born impulsivity and rash judgments into compassionate wisdom. The Sun, the ruler of the heart, is said to be exalted in Aries, and this is connected to the heart's undimmable radiance when it is allowed to shine of its own power, unclouded by material attachment, ignorance, or fear. We become more alive with the fullness of who we are after we are withdrawn from the familiar, comfortable, well-worn objects and patterns that no longer support our spiritual creativity and growth.
We live in a time where a great many people are courageously putting their very lives on the line every day. From the streets of Minnesota to the fields of Ukraine and the rubble of Gaza, the most fierce forms of courage and sacrifice are being enacted. Our civilization is breaking down, and we each have a role to play in seeing it through. By collectively sacrificing the world we knew, we are bringing about its rebirth in an image that more closely resembles the divinity that lives within the heart of humanity.
Our success depends on whether we will be warriors for fleeting material power, or for the enduring power of the heart. But the battle will not last forever, and Aries will not always demand such fierce sacrifice. To paraphrase the poet Robert Bly: After all is said and done, and the warrior no longer has a war to fight, he returns home, heals, and resumes his original nature–as a dancer.



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