The Pivot
A soft study weaving Venus retrograde and my healing arts practice.
Listen to this story.
Dear relatives,
As I write, I remember the Red-Bellied Woodpecker that sat outside my window last week, hopping from branch to branch, searching for something. I recall the Ladybugs that made their way into the most peculiar places, and my son and I carefully escorting them to safety. I am reminded that we have reached yet another threshold: Mars is now moving direct in the sign of Cancer.
As we transition deeper into the Spring season, inching closer to the Equinox, the pace of life unfolds. There is so much emerging. Everything and everyone is waking up.
In reality, Mars is always moving direct, and the apparent backward motion of the planets, from our vantage point on Earth, is an optical illusion. It all feels quite Neptunian doesn’t it? Some aspects of life are clearer than others.
In the unfolding, I see patterns between the principle of Sankofa and planetary retrogrades. When planets in the sky look like they’re moving backward to us humans, it makes sense how we’ve come to understand these as periods of introspection. When applied through Sankofa, different possibilities spring forth. There is a connection there, and I’m trying to listen for it.
First, I follow the threads between this principle, which comes from the Akan people of Ghana, and the principles my ancestors and elders taught me. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been trying to weave the disparate parts of my culture together. Rebuilding a relationship with the planets means thinking through retrograde cycles in a way that feels more accessible and culturally aligned. The thread of Sankofa resonates in my body; I can see better through this lens. It flushes the grit of empire from my eyes enough so that I can recognize planetary qualities within myself, especially the ones Western culture sees as too primal or elemental. Through this weaving, I can lose myself in the poetry of Mary Oliver and let the soft animal of my body love what it loves. I can tug a little firmer on the thread of the erotic, as Audre Lorde describes it, and pull myself into what Tyson Yunkaporta calls right story.
Now, we return to Venus retrograde for wisdom. And, I want to go deep, move back into time. I want to remember and retrieve every ounce of the taboo that has made me.
Venus will be retrograde through the constellations of Aries and Pisces through mid-April. The last time Venus moonwalked through these signs was in 2017. Amidst political turmoil, the Women’s March on Washington, the fall of Confederate monuments, and continued climate-related catastrophes, this was the year I finished graduate school. In that last year, there were many shifts: I lost a friend to addiction, started a dream job, and went on an epic road trip to visit the Grand Canyon. At the end of 2017, my partner and I moved back to the Midwest, initially to be with my parents, who were both very ill at that time. We made that big move eight months after the Venus retrograde, and everything changed.
Coming home was far more transformative, and necessary than I imagined it would be. It meant that I had to put my dream of becoming a doctor of Acupuncture and Chinese Medicine on hold. But, it gave me another year to be with my father before he passed away in 2018. His death is connected to Venus retrograde in Libra and Scorpio, but I’ll save that thread for another time.
That same year, I also became a mother and started my practice. Shortly after, the pandemic erupted, and it felt like everything was happening, all at once. These cumulative tectonic-level shifts changed me. I couldn’t imagine where everything would land. But, when I return to the teachings I’ve been given, I remember it’s all about timing.
My son and I love chalking up the concrete driveway with dusty color. A few days ago, I etched the glyph for Venus into the blacktop. The contrast of apple green and plum purple made the image pop. I got the notion to try this relationship-building exercise after listening to the audiobook Visionary Activist Astrology by Caroline Casey. Casey uses cornmeal in her practice, but chalk would have to do for us. My Venus is in Aries, and I figured the day of the planetary parade, also the day before Venus stationed retrograde, was as good a time as any to try this ritual.
That night, I had a dream where there were two of me. Two sides: one faced forward and the other, backward. The disparate parts were moving in concentric circles, one around the other; trying to come together, to re-member. There are myriad meanings to be discerned, I know. And, I think Venus has given me a rather big assignment this retrograde season. I called and she answered, loud and clear. I don’t know where this will lead, but I am learning how Venus spins her story through this dream.
For the first two years in practice, I routinely moved every 12 months. First behind a local coffee shop, then within a Yoga Studio. In 2021, I went from a 10x10 room into a 400-square-foot studio. And, I finally found a place to land for a good while. Initially, it felt like progress, a move toward growth. I had a particular vision for myself and did everything I could to fulfill that vision: I joined my local Chamber of Commerce, had a grand opening with a ribbon-cutting ceremony, and was even featured in a fancy write-up in my local newspaper. With these significant, and “official” tasks behind me, I felt ready to finally move toward the next big thing—an advanced degree in my chosen field.
After several years of graduate studies and board exams, I became accustomed to the grind of route learning. Even though four years had passed, I was excited to pick back up where I had left off, to accomplish my goal, and, more than anything, to cross another finish line. In 2022, I applied for and was accepted into a doctoral program for Acupuncture and Chinese Medicine. At last, a long-awaited milestone was within reach.
While I was in the thick of my doctoral studies, attending virtual classes, researching, and writing until dawn, other areas of life started to deteriorate. The lack of rest, discordant eating habits, and the challenge of being fully present in my most essential relationships were overwhelming. My capacity was limited, and it showed. It was clear that I would have to, once again, reevaluate everything related to my work. That year, Venus was retrograde in the sign of Capricorn. To say that I felt that transit to the bone is an understatement.
The prestige of a doctoral degree became a rush toward an arbitrary end, and I was hungry to make my way there. In the chaos, I failed to recognize that I was reaching for an outdated version of my desires, and I had to ask myself hard questions: How will this degree directly benefit the people and causes that fill my life with deep meaning and purpose? What is the true cost, and do I have the resources (time, energy, money) to afford it?
Listening for a response, I kept hearing a firm “No” from deep within. My body, mind, and bank account put on the brakes. It was hard to admit, but I was pursuing a goal that was no longer for me, maybe it never was. I had to slow the hell down long enough to reroute my path and find new coordinates. What projects and passions did my body say “Yes” to?
So, I dropped out.
At first, I took a semester off before fully committing to leave the program. And when I finally put my notice in, there was an immediate feeling of relief. I started making more art, cooking, and getting better quality rest. I also started reading an insightful newsletter, “Acupuncture Can Change the World,” by Lisa Rohleder, a writer, acupuncturist, organizer, and faculty member at POCA Tech in Portland, OR. Rohleder writes about the dynamics of operating an acupuncture school with honesty and transparency. It echoed conversations I’d had years before with colleagues and friends about the lack of awareness and appropriation within the field of Traditional Chinese Medicine, often referred to as “TCM.” Reflecting on these discussions, and Lisa’s writing, I gained a greater perspective on how our field has changed over the years, and, if things continue on the current trajectory, where we might be headed.
Western medicine, as we know it, exists within the liminal space between a decaying medical system, and a crumbling empire. So, I like to zoom out and imagine what it would be like if the TCM field reached its goal of integration. If the outcome is met, then what? This if/then inquiry always circles me back to the same series of questions:
Will it help people mend their relationship with medicine and healing? Will it commit to creating solutions that help relieve the financial burdens graduates face? Will it provide more space for honest conversations about pressing issues—including climate change, racism, and transphobia? If the big picture goal is equal status, what does that reality look like for practitioners?
From my experience as a doctoral student, I witnessed first-hand how the entities that hold power within our field—the commission boards, professional councils, and accreditation bodies—are pushing for a well-worn and dogged professional model similar to Western medicine. Considering the history of immigration policies for Chinese communities, and the development of Acupuncture and Chinese medicine in the United States, one would hope to see more opportunities for collaboration and innovation. Alas, like every other profession, we have work to do.
Still, schools like POCA Tech, and practitioners like Dr. Tamsin Lee, Carolyn Egan, Rowan Ching, and others are working to create spaces for crucial conversations to emerge. Their work encourages others in the profession to reframe the current paradigm toward more reciprocal and communal strategies. I am inspired by their devotion and leadership and try to shape my practice in similar ways.
I had a different vision of what my practice would look like. I never imagined myself weaving acupuncture and astrology. But, this pair works well together, and I am learning where they link. Between school drop-off, client work, and sustaining the flow of daily life, I am doing what I can to follow these threads through. Sometimes, the best we can do is to just keep at it.
Until the next one,
Christian
p.s. A few tiny rituals getting me through the week:
🌳 Communing with the beloved elder maple tree I’ve known my whole life.
🎧 Replaying this jam by LABRYS over and over. It’s damn good, and I've added it to my Venus Retrograde playlist.
📖 Listening to this poem (referenced above) by Mary Oliver.
✨ Connecting with people through acupuncture and astrology never gets old.
So beautifully written 🤍