Virgo and Sagittarius

… … what’s that in the brushwood?

It’s a wolf, with her whelps.

… . just the sort of idea a dog would have.

Since Virgo is an Earth Sign, you’d think the Virgins would know all about every single thing connected with the Earth, the way they know all about nearly everything else. Well, they don’t. And even though Sagittarius is a Fire Sign, the Archers do have a certain Robin Hood affinity with Sherwood Forest, as well as with woods called by other names. Consequently, Sagittarius is capable of demonstrating to the gentle Virgins various kinds of earth-magic. Mostly because they love animals, who are all so closely attuned to and aligned with Nature, synchronized to the Earth’s rhythms. And also because they’re not afraid to try out new ideas. Therefore, it’s possible for Sagittarians to discover all manner of earthy lessons of great beatitude to teach the Virgins.

Take, for example, music. Everything in the Universe, in the entire solar system, answers infallibly to its own very individual key—or note, half-note, quarter-note, sixteenth-note … and so on. Every thing and every person. Even buildings and bridges. Sometimes, when you’re listening to a symphony, a certain note, or a combination of notes within a chord will, for a split second in Time, cause you to feel a chill at the back of your neck, a quiver or a tiny tremble. You have been struck with your personal vibration, and your physical body is responding to it. In the science of metaphysics, theoretically (and actually) your own individual sound or key or musical note, when sounded in it’s precise, exact tone (Virgos will understand the need for preciseness) would so powerfully affect you through its vibrations that, played sharply enough (or loudly enough) and sustained long enough, it could kill. (The soul would follow it, out of the body.) Conversely, on the positive side, when played (or sounded) softly enough, sustained for the proper Virgo exactitude of moments, it could so transfigure you with joy and peace, you would literally levitate as did the saints.

The grandson of composer Felix Mendelssohn experimented with these rather Virgo-like concepts, based on the known fact that, when a singer hits a certain note, in a certain key, the sound will instantly shatter a glass. His research led him to realize the Bible meant literally what was written in claiming that, when Joshua blew a particular note, in a precise key on the Ram’s horn—the walls of Jericho came tumbling down. When a group of soldiers march in time toward a bridge, the leader will call out Break Step! if it’s a fragile bridge they’re approaching, because the rhythm of all those feet, pounding the Earth in time together, could actually destroy or damage the bridge structure. Mendelssohn therefore concluded that the armies led by Joshua approached the walls of Jericho in step together—thousands of feet in tempo, setting up a powerful (and particular) vibration in the Earth, so that when Joshua (who was metaphysically knowledgeable) then blew the precise note on the Ram’s horn, the combination of the marching feet vibrations with the individual sound of the wall structure itself, caused the walls of Jericho to respond, and to come tumbling down, right on schedule. Sound itself, alone, in the proper key and vibratory frequency, has the power and the glory (and the energy) to actually move huge stones or rocks. This is the buried-in-ancient-mystery, esoteric truth behind the legendary Open Sesame and Abracadabra chants (although they’ve been passed down to us in distorted form, no longer purely precise). So now you know how those immense boulders were levitated to build the Great Pyramid of Giza! Musically and melodiously, under the direction of Osiris. (Not Cheops—he came later, and did a bit of creative plagiarizing from the great Osiris.)

Virgos will be fascinated by the exactitudes and preciseness of this musical wisdom of metaphysics (contained in the Great Mystery of The Music of the Spheres) and Sag will be excited about all the possibilities of application to Jupiter ideals. The Archer might ask the Virgin—Since everything has its own ‘key,’ what do you suppose is the Earth’s key? If Virgo doesn’t know, the Archer may safely answer D-flat. Then, of course, Virgo will insist that Sag prove it. Virgins are quite critical of generalized statements, and they sternly disapprove of any form of exaggeration. Exaggeration being one of the many Sagittarian talents (the Archer’s ruling planet, Jupiter, is astrologically synonymous with expansion), if Sag wants to impress Virgo, he (or she) must always be prepared to back up any sweeping, Jupiter statements with substantial, factual proof. Yet, in contradiction, the Centaurs are also compulsively truthful, because Sagittarius is one of those exasperating double Sun Signs of duality. Half-horse, half-human. It’s the human end that’s truthful, the Horse end that sometimes stretches the truth a little. So it’s important to know which end of the Sagittarian Centaur you’re dealing with at any given time. Regarding the D-flat situation, you’re dealing with the meticulously truthful and gloriously imaginative human half of Sag. (No, Virgo, imagination is not inconsistent with truth. Imagination and Truth are soul mates. Neither could exist without the other.)

To give the animal-loving Archers a helping hand with their D-flat earth-magic lesson to Virgo, here’s the proof. Once on a late November Sagittarian evening, jazz musician Paul Winter had a profound and perfectly marvelous, likewise Sagittarian, Jupiter-inspired idea. He trudged high into a Sierra Nevada wildlife research center with his alto sax, and improvised a bluesy wail. At first curiously silent, after a time, some lady timber wolves began to sing along. Their howls harmonized with and matched perfectly the length and shape of Winter’s musical notes, creating the most thrilling duet he ever played. Originally inspired by a recording of the humpback whale songs, Winter has since played concerts for—and in harmony with—all sorts of animals, who match the notes, the tones and the rhythms of his sax precisely, never missing a beat or half note. Once, off British Columbia, Paul played a concert for whales—and to everyone’s astonishment, they stuck their heads out of the water, and gathered in a circle to listen, as the Greenpeace people watched in happy amazement. His moonlight duets with animals have even interested stuffy scientists, who were first stodgy, then amused, but are now finally beginning to think Winter has given them the key (pardon the Jupiter pun) to how animals communicate—migrate, mate and form packs.

Another of Winter’s albums titled Common Ground features an eight member family of instruments, dating back to the Renaissance. The album contains several melodies with choruses sung by wolves, whales—and even an eagle! They’re all in the key of D-flat, the only one the animals will harmonize with, you see, which causes Winter (and any meditative person) to conclude that D-flat is the key of the Earth. Fastidious Virgos may be slightly offended (or embarrassed) but the fun-loving Centaurs will enjoy learning that the album was taped in a stable at Winter’s farm, where bed sheets were hung from the ceiling, not for acoustical reasons, but to keep the bat droppings out of the harpsichord.

Now that Sag has brought some magical Earth knowledge to Virgo, and backed it up with proof, the Virgins, we trust, will be in the future, somewhat more respectful of the Archer’s far-out antics and spontaneous enthusiasms. And now that Sag has learned that the miracles of Open Sesame and Abracadabra, not to mention the building of the Great Pyramid, could never be accomplished without Virgo preciseness and exactitude regarding musical sounds, let’s hope the Archers will stop teasing the Virgins about their tendency to measure everything, their leaning toward perfection and their critical, sometimes hairsplitting attitudes. After all, Virgos are only living up to their Sun Sign essence of discrimination. If we didn’t have Virgos around to tidy our minds and keep our intentions neat, we’d all be a sorry mess of chaos and confusion. Music would not be melodious and soothing, but a tangled jumble of sour notes and jarring chords—without Virgo.

And without the merry, playful, owlish, wise and prophetic Archers, having been as kind and compassionate toward animals as they’ve been for all these many centuries, none of Nature’s birds and gentle beasts would have trusted Paul Winter enough to sing a single harmonic note in duet with his jazz saxophone. Much of the loving-kindness and protection from human brutality our animal brothers, bird sisters and sea life creatures have received has been from the Virgo, Sagittarian (and Aquarian) vibrations on Earth, giving them the faith to make their touching, tentative gesture of cooperation and love, to the tune of Winter’s friendly vibes. As Winter himself explains it, so very beautifully, if something is sensitive, thoughtful, we call it human. How arrogant. It’s really a sound which says, I’m glad to be feeling. It’s an affirmation. Yes. An affirmation of Life and Love … and the singing Oneness of all Nature.

Both Sag and Virgo were born under Mutable Signs, and so the Virgins and the Archers are usually able to communicate with each other easily, whether they’re communicating Virgo’s criticism and Jupiter’s frankness—or friendly understanding. Easy communication is the first step on the way to a comprehension of one another’s different approaches and viewpoints. These two will undoubtedly talk a lot, back and forth—perhaps also move around a lot, although Virgo is more settled, and likely to remain in one place longer than Sagittarius. The friendly Archers love congenial company, as they happily and curiously trot through Life’s unexplored Sherwood Forest, on horseback, or on foot, by plane or train. If they successfully meet the challenges of their 4-10 Sun Sign Pattern testing, the association of the Centaur and the Virgin promises exceptional rewards to each of them. Virgo will teach Sagittarius some manners, courtesy and patience, while Sag will teach Virgo the value of generosity of spirit, open-mindedness, tolerance … and best of all, glorious freedom! They may appear to onlookers to be a decidedly odd couple, the Virgin and the Centaur, but after a while, Sag will teach Virgo not to worry so much about what people say or think. Just be true to yourself, and everything will fall into place. After all there’s nobody who can please everybody, and the Jupiter-ruled Sagittarian is just the one to teach Virgo what a futile goal trying to perfectly please the whole world can be. Sag will coax Virgo to loosen up, and Virgo will show Sag how to keep from clumsily falling by going a little slower (verbally and otherwise).

It’s an unexpected touch of magic that the songs on Side One of Paul Winter’s Common Ground album, with their haunting melodies and chants, recalling the dawn reveries of monks at their prayers—should feature Renaissance instruments and rhythmic patterns, some with birds singing their glad morning hosannas in the background, along with other animals. A touch of magic because … the greatest friend the animals and birds on this planet ever knew was the simple Franciscan, Francis (Francesco) Bernardone, who lived his humble life of peace and goodness toward all creatures, great and small, during Medieval times. A few of his early years were spent as a strolling troubadour, and often, as a young man, he serenaded Claire, his Lady Poverty, by softly singing lyrics he composed himself to these same kinds of Renaissance rhythms, and playing the same kind of instruments.

The Winter earth-magic promise of Spring’s return would be a most appropriate theme for the Virgo-Sagittarius relationship. But first, of course, the Archer must bury his bow, and vow never to cause pain to any creature, human or animal (especially Virgos!) with his Jupiter arrows. Then the Virgin and the Centaur can join hands to sing together the first chorus of the Music of the Spheres with all the whales, eagles, wolves and birds they happen to meet on their path … bringing us all a little closer to the symphony of Peace. Sagittarian Francesco Bernardone, of Assisi, with his Moon in Virgo, will bless them with the benediction of his smile, and carol along with them … in the key of D-flat.

Virgo Woman and Sagittarius Man

He thought of hopping off in a comic sort of way till he was out of sight of her, and then never going near the spot any more… . .

To show her that her departure would leave him unmoved, he skipped up and down the room, playing gaily on his heartless pipes. She had to run about after him, though it was rather undignified.

Although Virgo and Sag form the tense and challenging 4-10 Sun Sign Pattern, we discussed the melodious secret of how these two can successfully conquer the conflicts of their auric vibes and achieve harmony together in the beginning of this chapter, which the Centaur and his Virgin should study first, taking care to read between the lines, before they give their attention to these particular pages. All they have to do is keep singing their love song in the key of D-flat. And try not to go off-key. It may take a little practice, but as the New Yorker said to the tourist asking directions, that’s how you get to Carnegie Hall. Practice, practice, practice! (Of course, you can also get there by making a sharp right turn East, at the corner of 57th Street and 7th Avenue—but it depends on whether you plan to be the featured attraction, or just sit in the balcony, as one of the crowd.)

Speaking of directions, such as how to get to Carnegie Hall—or anywhere else—the Virgo woman will probably prefer to reach her destination by subway, by bus—or on foot. The Archer is more likely to impulsively (and extravagantly, in Virgo’s opinion) hail a taxi or rent a car. Maybe even suddenly decide to buy one (he leans to fast and jazzy sports models) if he’s a typical Sagittarian. It’s one of the bridges they’ll have to cross together, to get to the other side (the agreement side) of their differences—his inclination to spend money in a relatively casual and carefree, generous manner—and her inclination to carefully count the Daddy Lincolns and squeeze the Buffalos. The Virgin doesn’t really intend or want to be stingy, but unless her Moon or Ascendent is in a Fire or Air Element, she may give an extremely good imitation of it. She’ll call it economical or thrifty, sensible and cautious. But you know how Sag tends to call things as he sees them, so he may see her sensible thrift as a clear case of stinginess, and be not a bit bashful about telling her so, which, of course, will not exactly endear him to the Virgin.

You see? Already, he’s been a little clumsy, and stuck his foot in his mouth. There’s one way he can persuade her to thaw her frigid response to his frankness concerning her financial attitudes. He can gaze at her ever-so-earnestly (straight into her eyes, Virgos mistrust people who avert their glances) and ask her politely if she’ll suggest a way for him to hang on to some of his income, help him figure out how much of it should be put away for a rainy day (or for a secure future) earning interest. Which would be more advisable, Municipal Bonds, a stock portfolio, a bank savings plan—or maybe a plump china piggy bank at home? She’ll love to be asked, and will have a stream of well-considered, detailed suggestions. If she already knows him reasonably well, she’ll veto the piggy bank right away. Unless he leaves it with her. Too tempting when he weakens.

Most people start out with ambitions for the future, enter a profession or career of their choice, work toward their goal—and eventually, after they’ve enjoyed a fair amount of time of achievement (and tucked away some cash), they retire, and do as they please. The Archers approach the work ethic in reverse. They like to start out by retiring—or at least, by doing just what they please. If what pleases them is unduly restricted by the demands of employment, they often toss security over their shoulders, shrug—follow the features of their hunches for a while, and figure that, when things get tough, they can always find a different occupation that isn’t so confining. It’s an attitude that horrifies the usually hard-working, efficient and responsible Virgo woman. So she’ll criticize him, first gently—and then, if he continues to behave as though he couldn’t care less about the future, her very real apprehensions will cause her to point out his flaws more sharply.

He’ll fiercely resent what he views as nagging, then pull out his bow and quiver, and aim a few blunt arrows of truth—as he sees it—into the heart of her objections. To work at a job you hate more than you love, only to gain financial security, he’ll tell her, can slowly murder the spirit. He doesn’t know (or care) how other males feel, but as for himself, he believes a man’s work or career should be something he enjoys so much, he would do it without a cent of pay if he had to, because he’s so magnetized by its challenge—because he must express himself in this way, or be forever unfulfilled. (An unfulfilled Archer is a sad and empty man, more so than any other.) I hate to takes sides in an argument between lovers, but astrology forces me to agree with the Centaur’s philosophy on the subject of work. A fringe benefit of such an attitude Virgo should appreciate, is that financial rewards frequently pour in, not despite it, but because of it. It’s never those who set out determined to make a lot of money, with financial security as the bottom line goal, who succeed and become wealthy. The greatest fortunes never fail to match the greatest achievements, granted by Lady Luck invariably to those who are consumed and obsessed by an idea, so single-minded about it that they’re completely oblivious to the cash remuneration. Their fortunes pile up around them, nearly unnoticed. The Universe smiles on them, because they work with love, not with the apathy of boredom or frustrated resentment. Dr. Land and his obsession with the Polaroid photographic process. Henry and his love affair with his Ford. Tom Edison and the sounds he heard in his head, he desperately had to somehow channel. David Sarnoff … and thousands upon thousands of others.

There are plumbers and electricians who passionately love their work, and couldn’t possibly imagine doing anything else. There are chefs who adore to cook, physicians who desperately long to heal, waiters who are happy talking with people, fascinated by the changing streams of the faces of humanity. Yes, there are even people who feel a deep, personal satisfaction in scrubbing floors and washing windows—in cleaning. They’re aware of a powerful lifting of the spirits from seeing dirt and untidiness magically change into freshness and shining order. (Virgo should comprehend that!) I know a man who would rather paint houses than be President, truthfully. It exhilarates him in a way he doesn’t try to explain to himself—least of all to anyone else. Albert Schweitzer preferred the hardships of steamy jungles to a chrome-plated, modern science lab, while others prefer the chrome-plated, modern science lab to primitive labor in the jungle. Those who punch their factory time clocks with suppressed bitterness and a sense of futility turn out ugly furniture, not fit to pass down to anyone, hardly fit for the original owner, after a few months. But a man who loves his work is a craftsman, creating miracles from wood and other materials that are treasured for centuries. And so it goes. There was a time when people were more inclined to follow their hearts to their professions, when society made it easier to earn one’s daily bread with love. Now all we have are square pegs in round holes, and vice versa, because of the rat race called success, that turns out, in the end, to be a cruelly false label. Millions ask themselves privately, Why is success such a failure? Because it was wrongly defined in the beginning, that’s why. By television commercials … and within the glossy ads in magazines.

Because Virgo contains the seed of purity (purity of thought, intention and action) the Virgin may be moved by her restless, independent Archer’s arguments, and gradually grow to see things through his rosier colored glasses. An end result like that is worth the friction these two must endure from the 4-10 influence of their squared natal Suns. It’s also more than a little possible that she will impress her Sagittarian lover or husband with the stamp of her own kind of patient integrity and sense of responsibility, her ability to keep dreams nice and tidy, polished and gleaming, therefore more apt to be truly beautiful when it’s time for them to come out of their cedarwood drawers and manifest as realities. In this way, the Virgin and the Centaur can turn the falsely labeled curse of their 4-10 vibration of tension into a blessing, by helping each other eliminate their vices, through the process of simply exchanging their individual virtues with one another.

True, there are multitudes of minor matters these two will disagree about, causing periodic conflict between them. But there’s always the man-woman alchemy to soften the hurt of all the things that don’t really matter as much as they think they do. Love’s physical chemistry can cover daily annoyances and irritability with the heavy fragrance of roses, washed by a summer shower, in a garden … the joyful feel of damp earth and wet grass, refreshing two hearts and souls grown weary from constant misunderstanding. When the Virgin leans back in her Sagittarian man’s protecting arms, she’ll forgive him most of his trespasses against her, and he’ll forget his own fiery anger over being criticized and doubted. The flames of passion and desire within his Fire Sign nature—and the deeper, more quiet needs of her earthiness can blend into a contentment and peace between them that forms a foundation for more tolerance toward each other regarding all those unimportant areas of conflict. But she must take care not to allow her instinctive Virgo detachment and physical aloofness to cause him to feel rejected, because he seeks and needs a more enthusiastic response to his physical expression of tenderness.

During the reign of Britain’s Queen Victoria, young women about to be married, who shyly sought advice concerning the proper, ladylike behavior on their honeymoons, were crisply admonished by their mothers to just lie back and think of England. There may be times when the Sagittarian man thinks he’s been projected into the Victorian Age with his Virgo lady—his bright and gentle, but somewhat cool, Virgin, who loves him with the same intensity as he loves her, but may be unable initially to express her feelings with as much easy spontaneity as he does so naturally. Telling her she’s frigid won’t solve the problem. Tactlessness never solves anything. He’ll have to patiently teach her to trust him with her whole self, for patience, unlike brutal honesty, can solve anything at all. Once the Virgo woman has learned to be herself with the man she loves, she can make of sexual Oneness a lingering and profound experience for the sometimes clumsy, but cheerful and generous Archer, who has the ability to reach the heights in everything he does … not excluding making love.

After they’ve grown accustomed to matching their rhythms in all their communications (they communicate well, these two, both being Mutable) the Virgo woman will lie back on the shoulder of her Sagittarian man, and think of many things other than England. The both possess intelligent, inquiring minds that sparkle with ideas. Then he may be the one who lies there, musing about the British Isles. Some midnight, after they’ve loved, he’ll suddenly ask her if she’d like to forget all about caution and practicality … just pack a couple of suitcases tomorrow, lock the front door, give the neighbors the key, so they can drop by to water the plants … catch an early flight for London, and arrive in time to hear the chimes of Big Ben by noon. If she’s as smart as Virgos are born to be, she’ll analyze his skyrocket suggestion carefully for about two and one third seconds, kiss him on the nose, snap on the light, smile into his eyes with her whole heart, and say, Well, what are we waiting for? You get out the suitcases, and phone the airport, while I’m taking my shower.

Virgo Man and Sagittarius Woman

She asked where he lived. Second to the right, Peter said, and straight on till morning.

What a funny address!

Peter had a sinking. For the first time he felt that perhaps it was a funny address. No, it isn’t, he said.

Well, hurray and hallelujah! Give that Virgo man with the peculiar address a hearty handshake and a bear hug! He’s off to a racing start with the half-Horse, half-Human female Centaur, for whose love and admiration he’s willing to give up his treasured loner’s existence. For her, he’ll even sacrifice his bachelor pad’s peace and quiet. But for her (or for anyone else) he should never sacrifice his sense of personal dignity and self-confidence, especially not his self-respect. A man has a million uses for self-respect, so it’s not sensible to allow even the woman he adores to rob him of it.

You’ll notice that at first he hesitated, nearly submitting to the sinking feeling of inadequacy a bright and cheerful but distressingly candid and forthright female Archer can unthinkingly instill in a Virgo man’s solar plexus (which, if he’s not careful, can develop into an annoying attack of Virgo indigestion). But our hero triumphed over the impending danger of inferiority, the challenging threat to his masculinity. Never mind her frank (or amused) opinions and comments about his perfectly proper address. Never mind what she thinks of his apartment, his socks, his ears, his hair, his nose, his job, his careful and modest dreams, his car—his habit of buying Ivory soap by the case, or his medicine chest, well stocked with aids to gentle elimination. She thinks his address is funny? He’ll tell her a thing or two. And so, he speaks right up to her, firmly and sternly—No, it isn’t. It is not a funny address.

That’s the first thing he tells her. The second thing is that she should learn to close her mouth before she speaks, and keep it closed while she’s analyzing what she was about to say—and if she thinks it over carefully, with a little consideration and forethought, she might decide not to open it at all—until she has something nice and kind to say to him. Surprisingly, she’ll probably love it. Actually, this woman is searching for a firm but tender man, who will keep her in her place—as long as he doesn’t keep her there by sitting on her puppy-dog friendliness, optimistic enthusiasms and fiery ideals. It’s an undeniably delicate task, but the Virgo man who loves her is gifted with the art of delicate diplomacy, and he just may be able to handle it. He possesses an almost mystical talent for finessing things through to a smooth finish.

Happily, he’s solved one problem between them in their tense 4-10 Sun Sign Pattern relationship, already. He’s trained her to soften the tips of her Jupiter arrows a bit, and not pull so hard on the bow. He’s made her see that her thoughtless remarks can really hurt—and with Virgo’s curious ability to be sweetly polite, even while scolding, he’s made her realize that he does comprehend her lack of malicious intent, her basic good will and naivete. She may be, quite sincerely, moved to tears. She’s wanted and needed someone to understand her real self for the longest, longest time, someone who won’t judge her harshly for just being true to how she feels—and spontaneous when she has something to express. Therefore, instead of starting a quarrel between them, her Virgo lover or husband’s firmness may have the opposite effect of bringing them closer together than they were before. Beautiful. Bravos and posies. Good for him, and good for her. Now, the next problem. (You surely didn’t expect them to be fated to struggle with just one problem, did you? After all, their natal Suns are squared, remember.)

Her practical jokes. Sagittarians of both sexes are absolutely addicted to puns and practical jokes. She’ll think it’s hilarious as puns go, that a Connecticut town, in celebration of ERA’s birth, officially changed the description of a public occupation as building personholes, avoiding discreetly the use of the no-no word man. (Virgo might think that one is pretty funny himself.) Then he’ll ask her what time the mailperson is due, because he wants to post a letter, she’ll ask him if he doesn’t mean personperson, he’ll tell her that mail isn’t male, and she’ll say it doesn’t matter how it’s spelled—he’ll ask her how she would know, since she’s such a dreadfully poor speller herself, and they’ll crack up laughing together. One of the nicest things about Sag is that she’s a genuine good sport, and is never up-tight about enjoying a joke on herself. Most Sagittarians can take it as cheerfully as they dish it out. And he must admit that’s a shining virtue, only too rare in this dreary world. All right, we’ve covered her penchant for puns, and he handled that problem quite nicely too, don’t you think? With just the right amount of good humor and careless teasing, adding a pinch of her own kind of truth that stings. And she laughed. She was pleased, she didn’t pout, and they’re still friends. The practical jokes may be a little tougher.

As briefly as possible, I’ll give the Virgo man a sample of how gigantic a Sagittarian-type practical joke can be. I mean, some of them are harmless little bits of fun and foolishness, but since Jupiter, the ruler of Sag, is the planet associated with expansion, an occasional Archer prank can get a little out of hand, so to speak. Briefly, then, there was once a man named Steven Masover, who was enrolled in college at Berkeley (California) in pursuit of a higher degree in physics (on a scholarship, and he was also Valedictorian of his high school graduation class). Steven’s Sag-type caper, which news stories referred to as a Robin Hood prank (Robin Hood has a tight affinity with all Archers), was to hold up a bank, with an unloaded gun and a fake bomb, making off with $78,000 in cash. His defense was that he had no intention of stealing the money, he had only borrowed it to invest it in colonies in outer space, as a way for Earthlings to escape pollution and overpopulation, and planned to pay back every penny in 20-odd years or so. (Pollution, Love Signs can’t help Steven solve, but the overpopulation problem is tackled in A Time to Embrace, in the back of this book.) Masover was acquitted by the jury (in a Jupiter-type stroke of pure luck) because the D.A. couldn’t prove he intended to deprive the bank of the cash permanently (a prerequisite for stealing) although the latter commented that he felt spending the money on space stations would amount to the same thing as depriving the bank of it permanently, using common [Virgo] horse sense. Or Sagittarian horse sense. Or whatever. The big fear then became that the flukey acquittal of the perpetrator of this flakey but eloquent practical joke would encourage other Robin Hood robberies. The fear was groundless. Real criminals don’t have the kind of genius and imagination to come up with that sort of laden-with-hidden-truth rationale of invisible but powerful integrity. However, it certainly may have encouraged other Sag practical jokers, heaven help us all.

The Virgo man may wonder why I chose a male example of a practical joker to warn him about his female Archer’s playful, filly foibles. I had an excellent reason. I wished to emphasize to the Virgo man that, while he was born under a feminine Sun Sign, this doesn’t mean that he’s a sissy, only sensitive and perceptive—his female Archer was born under a masculine Sun Sign, and is also guided (puns, truth arrows, integrity, practical joking and all) by the masculine planet, Jupiter. Double feminine influence versus double masculine influence, adding up to a clear conclusion. He was absolutely right to tell her a thing or two when she made fun of his address, because he’s going to have to keep a firm rein on this lady Centaur, or she’ll kick over the traces. As we’ve already proven, she’ll enjoy it secretly more than she resents it, if the rein is held in loving and kind, considerate hands, which it surely will be with a Virgo man who really loves her.

With his double feminine influence, of gentle wisdom, he’ll be able to perceive that this girl-woman is a trusting, vulnerable creature, for all of her double masculine macha, and she doesn’t win every race. She’s stumbled and fallen more times than she can bear to remember, trusting people who hurt her and let her down, just when she needed them most. He’ll soothe her painful memories with his affectionate concern, and help her analyze why she should forget them, now that there are only the old scars to remind her—assure her the scars will disappear sooner if she looks to the future, not to the past. Then he’ll promise her that he’ll never make her sorry she had faith in him, if he can possibly help it—and he’ll mean it. She’ll look into his clear, quiet Virgo eyes (that twinkle with the silvery streaks of his foster ruler Mercury when he’s happy) and she’ll know he’s wholly and completely earnest. She’s right. A Virgo never makes a promise he’s not willing to do everything humanly possible to keep. That counts for a lot, and if anyone realizes it, she does. There’s an alarming shortage these days of honest people, who live from the inside out, not from the outside in. So many get it backwards, the way to find happiness, like Hiawatha’s mittens. Since she can’t stand hypocrites or phonies, she should thank her lucky stars for the love of her Virgo gentleman (meaning gentle-man). That’s something I forgot to tell him. This woman is lucky. No matter how many times she makes a mistake, her misjudgments have a way of landing on their feet, and sailing her into the winner’s circle. Knowing this astrological certainty will comfort him when he’s suffering through some of those really huge goofs, caused by her well-meaning, impulsive enthusiasm.

The physical closeness they share, if he continues to keep a firm grip on the reins, and if she doesn’t bruise his sensitivity and subconscious need for purity, has the potential of being as passionate as her Fire Element nature, yet also as cool and as deep as his Earthy desires can make the togetherness between a man and a woman. There’s something of calm and stillness about him that channels her longings gracefully into the direction of a kind of fulfillment that makes her know how much more important affection and peace are than winning all the games in a romantic challenge. The warmth of him beside her is something she senses she’d be empty without, if they ever allowed their clashing personalities to cause them to say goodbye. And he knows too, though he may never express it in words, that the emotional storms they sometimes endure may leave his spirit weary and tired of trying, but if she ever went away … who else would awaken him on Christmas morning (as she did their first December together) wearing holly berries in her hair, breathlessly telling him to look under the blanket she holds in her arms? (No one.) Peeking out of the blanket were six black, shiny noses, belonging to six wriggling puppies born to their St. Bernard, Amelia (for Earhart), the night before, while he slept, at exactly midnight on Christmas Eve, she told him … her eyes shining with glittering stars of excitement and childlike wonder. Every time he remembers that crisp, cold, winter morning … the way she’d tucked the holly berries in her hair, like a small girl, to surprise him … the snow frosting her lashes (she’d just come in from checking the drifts in the yard, to see if they were deep enough to make a snowman . . they were … so they later did) . . every time he thinks about the way she smelled like clean, cold ozone when she kissed his forehead lightly, and merrily told him to hurry and come downstairs, because she’d made a fire, and couldn’t wait for him to look under the tree to see what the reindeer had left there … . . he gets that funny lump in his throat he can’t swallow. And he knows how right he is to keep trying to understand this lovable, graceful, funny and vulnerable … bright-eyed and intelligent but awkward clown, whose nose always turns red when she cries.

She gets the same kind of lump in her throat every time she remembers the morning he shyly brought her a tiny bunch of violets when she was aching inside from something very personal and sad she didn’t even know he was aware of . . but he was. He handed her the violets so softly, without a single word. What other man she ever knew would have done that? (No one. Not in quite the same way.) So what if he’s occasionally cranky and cross, a little stuffy about money? He’s a quiet man, of many dimensions and levels of loving. He may not talk much around others, but they’re both Mutable, and he talks a lot with her … telling her things he’d share with no one else, because he knows he can trust her to keep his confidences, and treat them tenderly. He had to train her to listen and understand the value of privacy … but Sag is super intelligent (Jupiter ruling the 9th house of higher education) so she learned quickly … many things he taught her. It’s only because she’s careless and disdainful of detail that she keeps spelling committment with two t’s and commited with only one. Never mind. She can’t spell it, but she knows what the word means. It means the same thing as a promise, doesn’t it? Yes. It does.

If the Virgo man and his female clown-philosopher really care, they can turn their 4-10 square of tension into a gigantic Jupiter-Mercury trine of steady contentment over the years, and celebrate Christmas every morning, with one sort of gift or another.

Virgo Capricorn
Earth—Mutable—Negative Earth—Cardinal—Negative
Ruled by Mercury Ruled by Saturn
Symbol: The Virgin Symbol: The Goat
Night Forces—Feminine Night Forces—Feminine


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