Reborn by the Stars

ADDITIONAL CONTRIBUTORS Kenneth Miller

By Kenneth Miller

Photo courtesy of Remko van Dokkum.

In a day and age when our identities are largely subjective and fluid, we can argue that the sky’s the limit in defining them. But, even up there in the stars–surprisingly enough–you can pick the destiny of your liking.

Horoscope aficionado and Susan Miller’s number one fan Natalie Liberman enjoys a double life. With her birthday falling within the Gemini period, but on the cusp of the Taurus timeline, she endures the stubbornness of her tropical bull sign while embracing the versatility of her twin-like sun. She claims to be “stuck” between both zodiacs, but relates on a meta-level to Aquarius, which houses her moon.

The starry mumbo jumbo makes sense to some. Others–like the 55 percent of Americans who think astrology is bonkers–find Liberman’s proclaimed identity to be of zero worth.

However, Liberman’s claim to the water sign is indicative of many daily factors: her mood, personality, outlook, interpersonal relations, and even financial success. This essential reclaiming of a new identity is the crux to her everyday life; it determines pretty much all factors in a formidable layout. Astrology has some science to back it, after all.

“I [mostly] relate to my Aquarius moon, even though I was born in the middle of May,” Liberman states, nudging off the pertinence of the sign given to her at birth. “Depending on [the] stars’ placement and planets’ alignment, Aquarius can be the dominant [sign] in my astrological house and consume me.”

Her stance is interesting, and something many astrologists consider to be an emerging phenomena as the religion-science-art scratches the mainstream’s legitimacy surface. With astrological rebirths being innately spiritual, they provoke speculation from those within the astrological community and outside. This is expected; those “reborn” are becoming acclimated with an inner-self that had all along been tucked away, if not disregarded entirely.

Consequentially, coming out of the zodiac closet is hard. Like all identities, the significance of being recognized with your sign (to those who are “reborn”) notes a particular lifestyle that individuals were destined to live. This traditional zodiac respect is seemingly crucial to a person’s development.

Hell, it’s not even unheard of for certain reborn individuals to celebrate their birthday within the days of the sign they identify with. It can be, at times, that intense.

“People laugh at me when I talk about [my astrological] identity,” Liberman says, laughing herself. “I just am not really a Gemini. My body literally reacts to solstices and eclipses as an Aquarius’s would.”

Such an involuntary reaction to moons and planets is perhaps the key defense to doubters of the transzodiac experience. Yet, there are still the skeptics.

Minneapolis astrologist and author of An Introduction to Western Sidereal Astrology Kenneth Bowser finds the notion of astrological rebirth to be a misnomer. He tells BTR that these reborn individuals ignore the whole point of astrology by looking strictly into their sun signs for all answers, consummately neglecting their astrological chart.

“If somebody relates to a sign that is other than their [given] sign and it’s not their exalted Moon in an angle bounded by the benefic [planets], then it’s possibly a past life memory,” Bowser suggests. “That’s an [identity you don’t want to claim] because it instantly makes you a flake and subject to ridicule–even if it’s true, which can’t be proved.”

Bowser goes on to explain that there are various factors that may attribute to the questioning of an individual’s birth-given sign. He extrapolates on this problematic thought process, noting that all signs influence one another based on their distance and elevation in a person’s astrological house. Granted then, most who proclaim to be astrologically reborn are simply feeling the stifling guidance of a planet’s overcast, which can overwhelmingly take effect when their birth sign is blocked or diluted.

“My experience is that angular planets appear most obvious in [a large sum of] cases,” Bowser concludes. “So if somebody has several planets in Libra on the ascendant, but [their] Sun is in Scorpio, [therefore] in the background of the horoscope, the Libra planets will be felt and displayed most readily.”

Such reasoning may give many the allusion of a new astrological “becoming,” but it’s highly contested in both the literal and figurative senses. Nonetheless, it’s hard to refute the ancient astrologic studies conducted by the East Indians which contended that the ninth harmonic of one’s natal horoscope (which they call the navamsa) is more closely related to life during adulthood as opposed to the birth-given, natal chart.

This division in belief causes an essential schism among theorists and believers. Astrologist and astrological commentator Crystal B. finds there to be evidence in favor of a reawakening, citing the complexities that coincide with humans’ birth and development.

“The sun sign is just the tip of the iceberg in really understanding our personal astrology,” she tells BTR. “One needs to see where all the planets were living at the precise moment they were born in order to clearly differentiate between what signs are influencing them most.”

Crystal B. goes on to infer that out of all astrological factors, the rising sign–the zodiac sign that rose upon the horizon during a person’s birth–holds the most impact on daily life (even more than the sun sign). Represented as the sign that paints a person’s exterior (or how others perceive them in public), Crystal B. illustrates to BTR how the rising sign showcases the traits people see and feel first.

“From a phase perspective, we’re always changing,” Crystal B. emphasizes. “We’re constantly evolving and going through various personality changes. Astrology and the movement of the planets [that] affect us illustrate that we’re [continually] under various pressures as well times when things align perfectly.”

Whatever the case, for Liberman, it isn’t all too clear.

“I’ve been told I’m wrong for feeling this way,” she iterates on her rebirth. “There’s no real way of justifying astrology in the first place, so to go about contradicting its little [scientific] background is hard.”

Our true identity is somewhere among a slew of puzzle pieces spread across the galaxy. Putting it together isn’t necessarily an easy feat; it isn’t meant to be. Our astrological signs, in the end, don’t wholly define our existence; neither do any labels. But the more pieces we assemble, the more connected we may feel to our true selves. Who, but you yourself, is to deny your existence of that marveling revelation?

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