Wade and I celebrate our birthdays one day apart (give or take three years). I can’t say why but, when we first met and discovered we shared a zodiac sign, it only added to the feeling I still have that we were meant to be.
In our own idiosyncratic ways, Wade and I definitely match the classic horoscopic description of the enterprising, determined, confident Aries; admittedly, the accompanying impatience and occasional moodiness of two rams butting heads in the same household sometimes gets the best of us. Still, beyond an awareness of that archetypal dynamic, I’d long ago filed astrology in the too-new-age-for-me category (of course, at more than 2,000 years old, the study of astrology is about as old-age as it gets).
A couple of years ago, on a family trip to the U.K., we came across a set of beautiful 18th century lithographs of western astrological signs. They were so simple in their depiction—minimal, elegant lines representing the 12 iconic shapes. Inspired by those lithographs, we designed a set of talisman charms. Since then, we’ve been surprised by how the topic of astrology has come up with increasingly frequency in conversation with our friends and customers.
It turns out there’s a strong, ongoing revival of interest in astrology. Recent articles in the New York Times and The Guardian credit the resurgence of enthusiasm to, in part, a new willingness to question the status quo and seek answers beyond the traditional religious or political sources; to be sure, looking to the stars for guidance seems a wise choice when what’s happening here on Earth is as atrocious as it’s ever been.
I’m not likely to pursue an in-depth understanding of which stars my sign rules or learn when the moon will conjunct my ruling planet. But, in thinking about my small role in the universe and what natural strengths I can cultivate to bring my Aries brand of courage, optimism and passion to the people around me, I have new respect for those who seek meaning in celestial signs.
Looking to the stars,