Mars in Scorpio – The Scorpion Strikes Again

Note by the blogger: If you ended up on this post (I have no idea what I was rambling on about in this post) while looking for – Mars in Scorpio eyes – try this post instead – Mars in Scorpio Eyes – The Eye for a Lie. Please be aware (even though it is obvious) that I am not an astrologer, I’m a babbler of things which interest me (Mercury in Aquarius in 5th trine Uranus in Libra in 1st). Thank you!

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This is an old post which I wrote for tumblr before I had a WordPress. It’s not about astrology, however it does seem to express my view of how I see my natal Mars in Scorpio, how it works in my chart and my life.

My approach to astrology is the same as my approach to everything else… suck it and see… experiment and discover… and do it your way.

To celebrate transiting Mars’ move from Libra into Scorpio – which I am very relieved and happy about because I’ve had it with being indecisive about my decisions, dithering over what is right and wrong, and whether I’m being tactless or tactful, and other Libra issues of balance and imbalance – I was going to write a new post and then I recalled this and decided to recycle it without hesitation.

The superficial astrological view of Mars in Scorpio is of a sexual predator of sorts. Mostly when you read about this natal placement, you’re told that those who have it are obsessed with sex in some way. Or that they have a vengeful temper. Either way you’re fucked.

And if you have this natal placement and you inform someone who is into superficial astrology about it, they either look at you with liquid eyes full of the kind of expectation which expects you to become obsessed with seducing them and this idea thrills them with a mix of scary and sexy, or they look at you with trepidation, as though you may be a psychopath.

If I also tell them my Sun sign… they may assume that I’m Patrick Bateman (American Psycho by Brett Easton Ellis). How that assumption affects them depends on what their idea of sexy and stuff is.

or a glass of nice Chianti

Superficial astrology is fun and occasionally correct. I do like penetration and will obsess until I penetrate or am penetrated, however… generalisations often miss subtleties which are crucial for understanding and insight.

Like with everything, it is all about the beholder and how they look at things and people and life and interpret concepts.

Here’s a little glimpse into what and how my eyes see, into the psyche of this beholder.

One of the areas in relationships where I often come unstuck is equality. I see everyone as my equal. I always have, it’s logical.

We are all Earthlings (unless you’re not, then ‘Welcome to Earth, while you are here I consider you an Earthling. Anyone who is on Earth is an Earthling, even if you originate from another planet, dimension, or supernatural world. Therefore you are my equal. Even if you think you are not. Tough. Deal with it. Or Yay!’).

We are all unique individuals, no matter how many similarities there are between us, and therefore there is no comparison between us. We move along parallel lines. You can fake inequality, pretend you are better than another, or worse, depending on the story you are telling yourself, but it is all pretend, in the imagination. Death agrees. It sees us all as equals, regardless of age, race, caste, culture, sex, religion, politics, money, intelligence, beauty, behaviour, and so on and so forth. Underneath all the exterior stuff, all the bits and pieces we use to decorate ourselves, all the things we collect, we are skeletons.
I rarely talk about this view with others because I don’t need to. It’s a personal, and very natural, thing for me. I don’t need anyone to agree with it, I don’t need to convince others to see things my way. That’s my view, my attitude, and it makes my life easier than it would be if I didn’t think or feel that way, because being equal keeps me grounded and balanced, humble and grateful, crazy and sane. And trying to figure out which rung I am on on the ladder of inequality is an impossible puzzle to put together because pieces are missing, the image keeps changing, as do the rules, etc into infinity and beyond.

Now you would think that this attitude would not cause me too many problems with other people. But it does, with bows on top.

What I often forget is that other people don’t agree that we are all equal, and so I end up getting into trouble because I treat someone as an equal when they think they are far better than me. It pisses off those who think they are worse too. I’m messing up their story.

But those who want to be worse than me usually just ignore me, those who think they are better than me feel compelled to put me firmly in my place. Those sort of people hate me. I refuse to stay in the place which they have assigned for me. Mostly because it is uncomfortable, and why should I be uncomfortable sitting where they have told me to sit, while they are sitting in the lap of luxury. No reason at all as far as I am concerned. As far as they are concerned, for some reason, only they deserve the comfy chair. I don’t want their chair, they can have it. I just want the freedom to sit wherever I feel like sitting, and why would I want someone else’s place when there are loads of empty seats. Maybe I don’t want to sit down at all. Maybe I want to skip, dance, or just stand on the sidelines.

I met someone recently who surprised me with their attitude of superiority. The reason it was a surprise was because they work in a field which encourages flexibility of thought, opinion, and attitude. They also come across as being open-minded. They seem very accepting of others as they are. And one of their pet peeves is directly related to equality – they hate it when others do not respect human rights.

I was very excited about making the acquaintance of this person. I had admired them and their work for some time. I felt that they, of all people, would understand me and my way of expressing myself without my having to explain myself, or give them a quick tutorial about my quirks and views. This notion was backed up by the discovery that there are quite a few similarities between us, between our lives.

At first everything I believed about them seemed to be confirmed. More than that, they displayed a warmth and kindness which I found a bit overwhelming, but which eventually helped to dissipate some of the reservations I had about them, mostly small things, inconsistencies which painted a different picture from the one I was looking at. I brushed those off. We all have inconsistencies. I know I do, and all the people I know do. Not a problem, unless the inconsistencies become glaring hypocrisies.

Over the course of our interactions I learned a lot from this person, which helped me immensely with issues on which I was working. I was very grateful. And I wanted to return the favour, helping them as they helped me. I could see a couple of areas where I could offer to them my own expertise, and I did, though very tentatively at first. They seemed interested, so I became bolder. I even challenged them a bit. They seemed open to it, then it dawned on me that their openness was actually masking rigidity. This did not shock me as much as it might have. I often notice things subconsciously before I pay attention to them consciously. We all do that. There had been clues pointing to the fact that this person was fairly rigid in their views, but they professed to be open-minded and I wanted to believe it was true.

There was an incident in which they treated someone who had come to them for help rather badly. Not obviously, but enough to make it noticeable, and I didn’t call them up on it, in fact, in an odd way, I think I may have complimented them on it. That annoyed me. I hate it when I’m a kiss ass. But I’d noticed that this person only responded to my words when I dressed them up with pretty colours. Some people are like that, and you have to adapt your style a little.

My style is a bit too blunt for most egos. I tend to jab a needle in without swabbing the area with anestethic first. Not a kind or pleasant thing to do. I have learned that, and, now, I not only apply ointment, but I ask permission before jabbing them. If they refuse the needed injection, then I force the crazy nurse in me to step away from the unwilling patient.

This character trait is one I’ve struggled with all my life. It is one of the things which causes intense friction in my relationships.

I do it with myself, and although occasionally I flinch at my own harsh statement of truth, I always appreciate it in the end. It has helped me to cut through a lot of my own bullshit, and has forced me to be a far more honest and humble being.

If I do something wrong, hypocritical, morally questionable, offensive, hurtful, then I call myself up on it if I catch it.

If I don’t catch it, but someone else does, I am grumpily grateful when they point it out.

If they are right, then I become warmly thankful.

If they are wrong, the grumpiness turns to suspicion as to why they would point something out as being a flaw when it is not.

I have enough flaws as it is, I don’t need to take on extra ones, especially if they do not belong to me. I used to carry thousands of flaws, shame, guilt and blame, which belonged to other people, and it screwed me so badly I almost ended my life just to get away from the terrible person I had come to believe that I was.

I’ve learned to be less of a bruiser, honesty is not always the best policy. My truth may not be true for someone else. It’s not all painful though. If someone does something wonderful, is talented, kind, helpful, or anything else which I admire, or am grateful for, then I love to let them know I’ve noticed. To thank them. Compliments are applause, strokes, encouragement. When people give them to me, my heart and soul soar. I enjoy making someone else’s heart and soul soar too. It is a blissful feeling, even when brief, and should be shared at every opportunity.

But if someone does something I consider not to be admirable, particularly if they think it is, and if it hurts someone else, then I feel internally pushed to point it out. What they do with the information I give to them is up to them. I am not being a moral crusader, I’m not necessarily right, in fact I’m often wrong, and open to being told I am, no matter how irritating it is to be wrong. I’m just sharing my views. The good and the bad, the right and the wrong. It’s an Earthling thing.

I was very annoyed at myself for ass-kissing instead of calling this person I admired out on their judgemental attitude. It really burned. I couldn’t undo what I had done, but I could use it to spur me on to be more vigilant and careful. More caring about others, those who needed sensitivity because they were exposing their weaknesses for all to see, and less caring about pleasing a hero who was falling in slow motion off their pedestal, because they were using the weaknesses of others to make themselves appear invulnerable.

I challenged this hero to prove their worth. To expose their own vulnerabilities like they were encouraging others to do. To walk the walk of their talk. Needless to say I became a persona non grata very quickly. Their attitude towards me went from warm, to tepid, to snippy, then frigid.

I don’t exist anymore for them.

They still exist for me. I still follow their work. But now I see it differently. They are inspiring me negatively instead of positively, which works out the same in the end. They have made me look more closely at myself, to see if I am walking the walk of my talk. I am grateful for that, in many ways I am more grateful to them for their hypocrisy than I am for all the wonderful words they share so glibly, but don’t apply to themselves. Even hypocrites can be heroes.

They say you should never meet your heroes.

They are right. If you want to stay stuck in the phase of hero worship.

But meeting your heroes, knocking them off their pedestals, and discovering that they are as human as you are is a valuable part of the process of hero worship. How else are we going to incorporate the things which our heroes have inspired within us into ourselves, claim them as our own, then use them to inspire our lives, and the lives of others. We have to challenge our heroes. Mostly because it allows us to claim the heroic bits of ourselves which we are projecting onto them. It challenges us to see that we are all heroes in our own unique way.

So, All you reluctant heroes out there, have you claimed your inner hero yet?