It is Astrology and Psychotherapy!!

Get in there, kid and snap them

This is a sincere response to a post that I put up on an Astrologer’s Facebook site. No reprise from him and then he deleted my post response. Hurt, because I share the pivotal moments or the beginnings of this subject. Is it because I wrote about other books besides the ones which this astrologer was promoting… who knows? I thought it was worth documenting …

https://www.forrestastrology.com/blogs/astrology/astrology-and-psychotherapy


It does not take an expert astrologer or Jungian therapist to understand the profoundly deep connection between astrology and psychology. I am an artist, mystic and layperson on the subject.

As once a probationer and member of the Oceanside California Rosicrucian Fellowship I studied Max Heindel’s book “Message of the Stars.” I also have read and reflected on Carl Jung’s books. “Red Book: Liber Novus” and his recently published “Black Books” are on my bookshelves. I cannot express the full influence which both Max and Jung’s books have had on me. Both being a part of my life for over 30 years. I made the connection within myself.




Recently through a friend I found out about Liz Green’s book “Jung’s Studies in Astrology” and was amazed to find out that Jung wrote into the very same Oceanside California based Rosicrucian Fellowship in his pursuit of understanding astrology.

The Black Book 5, Carl Jung, 1913 – 1932, Copyright October 2020

It was part of his process in creating the Liber Novus. The Rosicrucian Fellowship has a correspondence course in Astrology. Close to over one hundred years now. Yes, the fellowship still offers the same astrology course. Historically, it is amazing that Jung wrote into the Fellowship. It is a fact-based story. It is quite overwhelming to me. I somehow knew the connection personally. All facts now presented in Liz’s book. I have posted about this before too. It is important to me.



I enjoy your insight and I agree with you in your professionally written Astrology and Psychotherapy article. I have experienced it firsthand for years. Thank you for sharing.

I use astrology in a creative way. I take Jung’s concept of “Active Imagination” to engage in a relationship with the planets of astrology of our solar system and beyond. Just one reason I know it is an exceptionally good connection to have.

Thank You,

Holly D. Cornell aka Hudley Flipside


Lyrics

It’s so obvious, it’s here, it’s there
It’s not just the color, it must be more
At least 17 plus 3 score, this is 77
Nearly heaven, it’s black, white and pink

Just think, there’s more to come
Hum hum hum hum, it’s so obvious

Well it’s alright, listen, can’t wait for 78
God, those RPM, can’t wait for them
Don’t just watch, hours happen
Get in there, kid and snap them

Prometheus

One profound moment I can recall when myth and literature merged in my life started with a long stick, or some call it sheath, of fennel and a stencil of Chiron.

“…so it was left to Heracles to arrange a bargain with Zeus to exchange Chiron’s immortality for the life of Prometheus, who had been chained to a rock and left to die for his transgressions.” Apollodorus, 2.5.4


Santa Monica Mountain Promethean Fennel sheath

They were in opposition to each other for a few years. I sat between them in my living room. Fennel was cut from a plant from my front yard. It stood about as tall as me. As it dries, a thick fennel stick becomes stronger and more resilient. It rests near my hearth. The Chiron stencil is upon the wall in my living room. Art, I created years ago when my oldest son was young.

Yet there they were. I knew about the mythology that tells a story of Prometheus. He brought fire to humanity in such a fennel stick. For this sacrifice he was punished and tortured by Zeus. Bound to a rock, and so the story goes. Yet I finally stumbled upon a hidden myth that it was Chiron who set Prometheus free. The day I found this out. My living room bounded with joy. Here in my little living room, I came to understand this mystery! I felt liberated as well in a magical way. As if a secret story was only told to me. I finally comprehended it clearly. I imagined dancing around while holding hands with my two dear friends.

It took me a great deal of time to see this, but there they were in opposition to each other. Yet not them but the struggle was in me. I mused so many imagined ideas. How much longer was it that I also stumbled upon the quote from Shelly’s prose Prometheus Unbound? I suddenly read the passage and them knew the truth of what I read. A conversation between the earth and moon. Prose describing the liberation of Prometheus towards the heavens. The moment Chiron set Prometheus free. Here is the quote.


Chiron Stencil by Hudlsy

The Earth.

The joy, the triumph, the delight, the madness!

The boundless, overflowing, bursting gladness,

The vaporous exultation not be be confined!

Ha! Ha! the animation of delight

Which wraps me, like an atmosphere of light,

And bears me as a cloud is borne by its own wind.

The Moon.

Brother mine, calm wanderer,

Happy globe of land and air,

Some Sprint is darted like a beam from thee,

Which penetrated my frozen frame,

And passes with the warmth of flame,

With love, and odour, and deep melody

Through me through me!

(320 _ 330 Prometheus Unbound)

I cried. my heart almost leaps out with him towards the heavens. Overjoyed how this all came together. I bear witness to this. Now I share my joy here. To at least know in a creative way, how liberation may be viewed by the earth and the moon. Also, I address humanity … we need to see how precious literature merged with mythology is. To feel it and be inspired. To know the hope, it offers us now!

Now to take this story further. Finding out that I will be working with Uranus, which is now in opposition to Uranus in my birth chart.  I am taken down on a path to know Uranus better. To know myself better as well as humanity. I realize as we get older, we all share in this journey. Be it consciously or unconsciously.  I want to know Uranus better.

I already know Uranus better then I knew. I stumbled upon a book that made me realize all this time I had a relationship with the Uranian myth through what I have known about Prometheus.

“,,,the planet Uranus was reflected in the myth of Prometheus: the initiation of radical change, the passion for freedom, the defiance of authority, the act of cosmic rebellion against a universal structure to free humanity of bondage, the urge to transcend limitation, the intellectual brilliance and genius, the element of excitement and risk. So also Prometheus’s style in outwitting the gods, when he used subtle stratagems and unexpected timing to upset the established order: he, too, was called the cosmic trickster. And the resonant symbol of Prometheus’s fire conveyed at once several meanings—the creative spark, cultural and technological breakthrough, the enhancement of human autonomy, the liberating gift from the heavens, sudden enlightenment, intellectual and spiritual awakening—all of which astrologers consider to be connected with the planet Uranus.”

Tarnas, Richard. Prometheus the Awakener (pp. 20-21). Spring Publications, Inc.. Kindle Edition.

The beauty of a flower and a bee.

From my garden

A Summer Poem

By Hudley Flipside : An Underground Bard


So much given to us for free

All of creation

Watch the flowers open up

To share nectar to the bees, butterflies, bumblebees

The hungry hummingbirds.

In return pollination.

A free giving cycle…

We humans are as flowers,

We can open our psyches

Give out our creative soul nectar

Out into the world

And in return get pollinated

There are the invisible makings of nature

As there are the invisible happenings in a human being…

How accidentally nature shows us this beauty

From our living gardens.

We look out and there it is

Sharing, sharing, and giving

Life vast and beyond.

Following the motif of

The simple flower.

Clouds that hold moister

Then rains upon the earth

A summer overcast day

That cools the dry dirt.

The open window that shares

This active beauty from tall trees overhead

And above me.

A song that inspires us to be

Loving and understanding

The beauty of a flower and a bee.

surrender to an experience… not to drugs…

Pulmonary hypertension medicines act on the lower esophageal sphincter and cause it to relax thereby increasing the frequency of stomach contents entering the esophagus.

The above quote makes me angry. It seems no matter what doctor I see they want to put me on medicines. I know the side effects cause more problems than the hypertension itself.

Yes, it is natural after menopause, and as a woman gets older, to have high blood pressure.

Since Peri-menopause to after the doctors have been foaming at the mouth to get me on all sorts of drugs with all sorts of terrible side effects.

Some I had to take, and I am still suffering the side effects. The worst being in the throat and esophagus. I have done a few tests and they looked up me and down me… all around me.

So, they come with an unknown variable. It may be this so we will give you this fucking awful drug that will rape you on the inside. And then I was left there. Abandoned to heal from the internal cuts and bloody battle towards sanity.

I look and search for all forms of natural healing which do help sometimes.

It is a balancing act of medicine and holistic focus, and it is frustrating. I am sure I am not alone here.

As in the relationship between dentists to medical doctors. They both point at each other and say, “Ask him?”

I am my advocate… not the insurance companies …

I believe that some drugs have caused such vast trauma on our bodies, instead of truly healing them.

“…clearly shown that knowledge of the emotional functions of biological energy is indispensable for the understanding of its physical and physiological functions. The biological emotions which govern the psychic processes are themselves the direct expression of a strictly physical energy, the cosmic orgone.”

Reich, Wilhelm. The Function of the Orgasm (p. 2). Farrar, Straus, and Giroux. Kindle Edition.

Orgone is a pseudoscientific concept variously described as an esoteric energy or hypothetical universal life force.

I once had a dream where I was standing in a garden, I touched the big blossom of a flower and then reached out to the sun. I had a massive orgasm.

‘Psychic health depends upon orgastic potency, i.e., upon the degree to which one can surrender to and experience the climax of excitation in the natural sexual act.”

Reich, Wilhelm. The Function of the Orgasm (p. 6). Farrar, Straus, and Giroux. Kindle Edition.

I have come to believe that what separates us “humanity” from the rest of the living world is this ability to be in a state of ecstasy. Humanity is not in a constant state, and maybe only occasionally. The rest of the living world I think may very well be. In a continual state of flowing ecstasy. My experience felt great, but it was more than as sex act. It was not one. It was being one with the “cosmic orgone.” Yet why define it… My little spit in the wind theory.

Took me awhile to find The Function of the Orgasm a book from the past to help me understand an experience in our current time.

 (Wilhelm Reich, 24 March 1897 – 3 November 1957, An Austrian Doctor of Medicine and Psychoanalyst who studied with Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung.)

I am still studying this and of course it is based on my illness yet maybe someone who may read this may get some relief too.

The trauma still holds to my throat as a reminder … and I want to heal its frozen hold. Dreams are a great way to get some good freedom…

From darkness to light

(Today I bought an edition of Dithyrambs of Dionysus by Nietzsche… a thrift-store purchase. October /3/2021)

    And in your hand brandishing your night-

    lighting flame, with god-possessed frenzy

    you went to the vales of Eleusis

    where the whole people of Hellas’

    land, alongside your own native witnesses

    of the holy mysteries, calls upon you

    as Iacchus: for mortals from their pains

    you have opened a haven without toils. ” *note below

————————-

“On an island in the sun

We’ll be playin’ and havin’ fun

And it makes me feel so fine

I can’t control my brain.”

Two and a half years ago

I made it back

From the darkness…

Today I celebrate

While driving home

From my secret market

The special song came on

my car radio

I remember the first day

I awoke

From the darkness to light

It was such a sight

Wizard the Lizard

Doing arm lifts

Singing

“Hip Hip”

Up and down

“Hip Hip”

On top of the red brick

Next to the Wild Promethean Fennel

The aroma still in my nose

When I heard the beat

I was walking around the block

I heard the song Island in The Sun

neighbor kids were rocking out

guitar, drums and singing

In their garage.

Today yes today

Driving home

On the anniversary of

Returning to the light

The song played

On my car radio.

In my brain again

I reached up as

The promethean Thyrsus

Pulled me up and out

Dionysus declaring to me…

“Hip hip

Hip hip”

“We’ll never feel bad anymore (Hip hip)

No no (Hip hip)

Hip hip

We’ll never feel bad anymore (Hip hip)

No no (Hip hip)

Hip hip

We’ll never feel bad anymore.”

*An inscription found on a stone stele (c. 340 BC), found at Delphi, contains a paean to Dionysus, which describes his travels.[98] From Thebes, where he was born, he first went to Delphi where he displayed his “starry body”, and with “Delphian girls” took his “place on the folds of Parnassus”,[99] then next to Eleusis, where he is called “Iacchus” “

Sterling Hayden’s anima, maybe.

Pictures of Sterling Hayden
Sterling Hayden the wise.

Today is International Women’s Day, and soon follows St. Paddy’s Day and then the Spring Equinox.

Consider the following statement. Every river began its life as a stream, and every stream had its origin in the minutest trickle. In turn, every trickle is the result of filtration through rock and sand and soil, and from this process a single drop of water arises. So often most of these single drops have not seen the sky or the light of the sun for hundreds, if not thousands, of years.

Hughes, Kristoffer. Cerridwen (p. 20). Llewellyn Worldwide, LTD.. Kindle Edition.

How did Hayden Sterling the best Noir dude and Cerridwen the Welsh Goddess of inspiration twine together in my heart, blood and water in my body’s imagination? The earth, male and female, sea, sky, rain and the divinely profound now cumulatively and happily joined together to reveal an old image to me.

There is no new water on earth. In turn, there is no new myth on earth but only the retelling of the same rivers of mythology, flavoured only by the passing of time.

Hughes, Kristoffer. Cerridwen (p. 20). Llewellyn Worldwide, LTD.. Kindle Edition.

Cerridwen Stencil by Hudley Flipside 1995…

The image is Cerridwen and she is holding her cauldron and staff. I once thought the image was Persephone…yet now I know who she is. A subtle part of my heritage.   

Where from, you growling water? How old are you? Did you come in from the sea with the midnight flood? Were you sired by an iceberg out of the South Polar Cap, or was your dam a cloud knocked up by the High Sierra? Were you falling rain short months ago? What’s the news from Donner Pass and Emigrant Gap, and how are those new motels? You look a little wan, as though you’re tired of the land. Tried to trap you, did they—up Sacramento way? Piped you through a tunnel, dumped chlorine in your face, spun you through a toilet bowl—small wonder you’re brown as a sportsman’s chest. Don’t quit now; two hours will see you through the Gate, and once you’re clear keep rolling on. I’ll join you one day soon. Maybe.

Hayden, Sterling. Wanderer (p. 7). QM Classics. Kindle Edition.

We must explore!

The Naked Grace…


These times are asking us to go within. Over the generations we have taken this journey within. By choice, by accident and spiritually. Through drugs, side effects from prescribed medication or by magic.

A song can amplify this reality. A writer can share the experience. Songs filled with lyrics are poetry put to music. The images come forth and touch us. These three songs came to mind today when I was out in the garden pulling tall grass from the rich soil. It all came together. The dark earth holds things. Pulling on the grass and releasing the soil is a forward effort of movement. The dark moist earth has a relationship with our psyches.

I believe that unless we willfully take this inward journey as an individual it will be forced upon us. On a personal level or a generational level is how it goes. Anytime we suppress our shadow, blame others, or spread hate it is bound to a generation. Are we not observing this right now? Songs can help us. I need them like I need flowers in my garden or kitty cats to hug.

Here are three songs that explain this journey variable. From the 1960s Catch the Wind by Donovan is a peaceful song.  Dead Man’s Party by Oingo Boingo is an amazing song that shares some interesting historical mysteries.  The Forbidden Zone by Charged GBH, one dose and you take their hand into a strange journey of a musician’s psyche.

♦Donovan is an unusual songwriter and folk singer that touches upon the light side of our psyche. He reminds us to remember the beauty in life. It is around us and in us if we go looking for it. Our psyches do often look back at us. We can reflect on this soft beauty from time to time.

“When sundown pales the sky

I want to hide a while

Behind your smile

And everywhere I would look, your eyes I’d find.”

♦Oingo Boingo’s song is remarkably interesting and worth listening to intensely. As a young punk back in the late 1970s I had an Oingo Boingo badge on my jacket. I was approached by a couple of punk chicks who mocked me and belittled me for wearing it. A time when the first signs of punk cultism started to show its ugly face.

“I was struck by lighting, walkin’ down the street

I was hit by something last night in my sleep

It’s a dead man’s party who could ask for more

Everybody’s comin’, leave your body at the door

Leave your body and soul at the door.”

“For Crowley, who was a painter himself, the artist ranked above the magician on the totem pole of illumination, and he considered poetry and art as precious tools for transforming one’s innermost psychic visions.” Chapter Spencer Kansa, Pg. 92 Wormwood Star, The Magickal Life of Marjorie Cameron.

♥A wild journey inward to the shadowy psyche is found in the book City Baby from Highgate to Hawaii… Life, and GBH by Ross Lomas.

“This went on for hours. More and more of the same. It was incredibly intense. God and Jimi and Anne Carpenter and the devil and the fucking taxi driver, fighting over my soul right up to the point I passed out in exhaustion.” ~ Chapter neil sedaka, Pg. 120.

“Take my hand and we’ll explore,

The forbidden zone.

When you’re in your own tree,

But don’t know if anybodys home.”

Jimi Hendrix was playing guitar while Anne was a nun of salvation may show us that his journey was amplified by many elements as a fight for his soul. When the shadow opens to us it is always a powerful trip. I find that Ross most likely is stronger for his experience. A bite like this prepares us for real outward tragedies as we are facing today.




It turns me on. Enough said

I love this picture that my son took of me. It is that time when I united the male and female within me symbolized by my two tattoos of Dionysian Hollyhocks.


I was reading that Indian Gurus’ overall goal is to unite all religions of the world. They also talk about a united male female god. This is very simplistic I know. Also, the religions of the world have tended to be very male oriented. As most cultures or all cultures for the last two thousand years. As a religious studies major in college, BA and Masters, I always had a thorn in my side. With in-depth Jungian Psychology I have found the answers to many of my concerns. For me it was uniting the masculine and feminine within myself, or in Jungian terms the anima and animus.

I have a “hard-on” for life. Even within the diversity of life right now. I can’t help getting one when I see flowers in bloom and the whole of nature in a type of rapture. Welcome Spring. It is not the male kind of hard-on but it something inside. Not sexual but very blissful-orgasmic at times

Now I try to feel it as often as I can. When I get the hard-on for life. Flowers blooming, a song, my friends all help to amplify this experience.

It is ironical for me to have these feelings while also having to balance it out with my compassion for what we are all going through now. I know it is a dark time, a real challenge for all of us in different ways.

I am mindful of those suffering. They are not alone when we think upon them. I have love in my home that comforts me.

Also, the human Ego is my friend. I think that males and females have a different relationship with their Egos. I feel males need to let their Egos float downstream a little. I think females should ride their Egos. It is good to be admired as it is to admire another. I like the feeling of appreciation as well as when I feel the feelings of appreciation for another.


As a female riding her Ego it is like riding in a canoe. Sometimes the river is smooth and glossy. Other times it is a prissy fucking nightmare. Yet we need to express our realities to the world as I am doing here.


The Nasty woman is me.

The Nasty Woman and the

Smörgåsbord of words and feelings… some very nasty…. like me.

“In his late works , he embodied these and other ills in the nightmare ridden figure of the cosmic giant Albion, or universal humanity, who has fallen in to deadly sleep of mundane existence. In humanity’s coma, the divine is a remote and forbidding sky-god: nature a sterile heap of atoms, lovers and family members, enemies; and one’s own innermost being, an unrecognized alien.” 

~Blake’s Poetry & Designs ` A Norton Critical Edition.

I realize I am being confrontational, nasty and outrageous. It is that two-week time as we move into the autumnal equinox. I hate this time of transition, but I love autumn.


Today I had to get gas on the way to where I was going. This local gas station charged me a 30 cents gas fee. Yet this is the normal way to skim the top and make a lot of money off millions of poor people. I remember when gas stations had attendants pour the gas, check the oil and fill the car tires. It was service with a smile.

I wish one of these monster gas companies would be brave and bring the service attendants back. They could collect the cash and we could give them the service charge… instead of a fucking machine.

Every time we take away a person’s job and replace them with a machine, we become less human.

I went into the mini-market and the cashier, who seemed to be acting as an employe,  knew nothing about the fee and said,

“I don’t know why you are asking about it. You are the only one that cares? No one else has asked about it.”

I looked at her silently and squarely.

“You should know about it and all the things around you here. I must pay a fee and it is dirty filthy outside around the gas tanks. I remember the day…”

A man came forward and interrupted our conversation and the cashier looked away.

“Excuse us,” I said. “We are talking.”

I used a figure to point to the cashier and me.

“Grumble, “said the man under his breath.

I left telling the cashier she should lose her job for not knowing anything.

Then I came home to find standing outside my home a strange older man smoking a cigarette.

“Are you waiting for someone,” I said.

“No.”

“Then why did you park here?”

The street had no other cars around. He then looked up at the tree. I then asked him to please move his car I needed to part our truck there. He seemed nice enough for not having a reason for being there besides smoking a cigarette. We talked back and forth.

“We have had issues with drug dealers around here,” I said.

He soon left and I moved the truck out. I know I was being ridiculous. I thought it strange that he would get out of his car with his cell home in hand to smoke a cigarette under our lovely olive tree. I did say to him.

“I don’t like the smell of cigarettes and I am sure the tree doesn’t either.”

I think upon a poem I wrote that I have changed a bit.

Any time of the year but now it is moving into the Autumn poem.

Green-gold olives

This eve
I take my broom
Last ray of sun is dead here …
it is real…

The shy clouds hide stars
Only the Moon, Jupiter and Saturn shine their breastplates.
Of radiant light…

I take my broom to the front of our home into the dustpan goes
Dry brown and yellow
Pointy olive leaves and hard green-gold olives…

Into the waste bin… away away.
Goes all the thoughts of this day
Of a wooing Crone…
Looking around as I sweep and bend

For any Fay to show their haunting ways 
In the clouds sailing on the night or
Upon the grasping arms of the olive tree. 
Queen of Elphame mocks me
As I move quickly and consistently,
I call her Sabrina…

How symbolic have I become?
Wild movement… yet strangely calm.
Sweet sweat dripping
My dusty perfume…

I do as many an old Crone
Sweeping clean the front of their home
At this transforming time.
Today I am a nasty one...