Long before my shamanic apprenticeship began, I pursued a college degree in philosophy with the hope of finding out who I was and what was real. Although I didn’t find answers, I did realize something about the process of seeking: thinking can be very slippery and manipulative. I felt that I was in a Grand Central Station of university life, where my mind endlessly rode various freight trains of thought, which, in turn, took me to places in the realm of ideas that left me unfulfilled. I graduated without discovering a satisfying doorway to real knowledge.

          After graduation, I was employed by a carpenter dedicated to craftsmanship. His wife was interested in astrology, and she talked fervently about it over dinners at their home. My doubtful, critical mind, sharpened by repeated philosophical inquiries, wanted to keep astrology and all such superstitious thinking in the closet, where it seemed to belong. But when I heard descriptions of my Sun sign, I was surprised by how alluring they sounded. Could astrology provide knowledge of who I really was?

          I had my birth chart calculated, and within a week of ordering the chart, I was staring glassy-eyed at an enchanting circle with symbols and numbers encoded into its geometry. My chart had been calculated on February 29, Leap Day. It certainly felt like a leap of faith — a leap out of my reluctance and suspicion to take a look at what appeared to be some kind of crystal ball on paper. I was enticed by the idea that my chart cosmically connected me to the planets and stars. I purchased lots of books and read through the many descriptions of signs, planets, and aspects. It seemed so amazing that a chart could reveal human potential and cycles of change. I drew up hundreds of charts, learning the math inside and out. I memorized my chart. I found my self remembering aspects of other people’s charts after working with them. The more I dove into astrology, the more I was hooked.

          While in this state of being astrologically mesmerized, something began to haunt me. As the intensity of my absorption in astrology increased, my life was being lived through an ephemeris. I felt heady and jumbled, my mind consumed with planetary positions, other authors’ interpretations, and upcoming transits. I went deeper and deeper into it all, convinced that the truth must be living inside the right interpretation. I looked for transits that might show me the door to revelation and its timing. Despite many disappointments, I hung onto astrology, writing some articles for magazines, offering readings, and searching for the big “aha.”

          Three and a half years after discovering astrology, my first Saturn return was approaching. Perhaps this would be the time when I’d find solid ground beneath me, as suggested by many contemporary astrologers. As a way to embrace the cycle of the ringed planet, I enrolled in a counseling psychology program. I wanted to learn how to promote my emotional growth and well-being and get some clarity. I hoped I could better integrate theories of personality and human development into chart readings, as others were doing. Moreover, astrology books suggested that my chart indicated a strong talent for counseling, so I figured I must be on the right path.

          During the two-year program, I studied and explored how to listen from different psychological perspectives. It was all very interesting, but I felt pulled this way and that way by all the theories, and I was concerned that my efforts weren’t helping anyone. By graduation time, I sensed little substantial change within my self or my clients. To cope with the gnawing uncertainty and disillusionment, I applied to a doctorate program in counseling. Perhaps with a Ph.D. I would feel more confident as a therapist and my past efforts would not be in vain. After all, I had turned 30; it was time for me to know what I wanted to do with my life. I was again facing the unknown when I was denied acceptance into the doctoral program. Feeling stuck, I wondered whether this was what Saturn’s return would mean for me.

          Many astrologers refer to commitment as a central theme of Saturn transits, so in the midst of confusion, I committed my self to a relationship, even though I had doubts and fears about doing so. I left my apartment in the East to start a new life in the West, hoping that life would be fresh and exciting in a new place, but I seemed to drag my old baggage with me. Putting the counseling aside, I became a teacher of math and psychology. Life was quite different being married, and tensions grew when kids came along. Despite my workaholic busyness at home and at work, I quietly hoped for more from each transit and progression.

          Ten years after looking at my first natal chart, and still immersed in astrology, I was suddenly drawn to earth-based spirituality. I attended workshops, vision quested, and created a new public school environmental studies program. I experienced a deep connection with the web of life and began to feel the stars as guardians of a vast and ancient place of spirit. It was now apparent to me that the planets and constellations were more than symbols on paper.

          As my spiritual interests grew, I created a self-discovery wilderness program for youth and adults. During the process, I crossed paths with a Lakota healer and began to explore new depths of awareness as he invited me to experience his tribal culture’s tradition, which included a unique relationship to the stars. But it took a few more years of spiritual experiences, visions, and momentum, coupled with personal crises, to open my heart to really living life. An earthquake of change came fast and furiously just before my participation in an old and powerful Native American ritual. I had suspected that something spiritually profound would happen at the ceremony, because transiting Neptune had moved to a key place in my chart, but I could not have predicted what was about to unfold. After a full year of preparing for the ceremony, when it was just weeks away, a wave of inspiration moved through me. Somehow, I found enough courage to gaze below the surface of my life and into the emptiness of my pretenses. I no longer felt compelled to compromise my self and my desires in order to find happiness through security and the codependent pleasing of others. Living a half-life in half-truths was no longer acceptable to me. By the first day of the ceremony, my defenses had crumbled, and the walls I had built up around my freedom and joy began tumbling down. The four-day ritual brought me to the death of the old and the end of the world as I knew it.

          Directly after the ceremony, and in the wake of the enormous healing it provided, I began an apprenticeship with Kay Whitaker, a kala keh nah seh, a storyteller, healer, seer, and teacher of an ancient Peruvian shamanic tradition called Ka Ta See, which means “living in balance from the heart.”¹ With Kay’s straightforward, no-mucking-around guidance, I embarked on a heartfelt journey to the knowledge I was seeking. Through a very beautiful and simple ceremony, she first led me to the direct experience of my own essence; in her medicine-storyteller tradition of Ka Ta See, this is called “Song.” My Song is my aliveness, my unique hum or vibratory signature in the universe. She explained that this aliveness is my natural state of being, and that my first-hand experience of it brings knowledge and empowerment. Although at first I could not stay in the feeling of my Song for long periods of time, it became apparent that the truth I had been searching for all along was me.

          Once I really knew the feeling of who I was, Kay suggested it was time to tenaciously look at my “masks” — all of the addictive patterns of thinking, feeling, and behaving that squelched my Song and distorted my perceptions of what was real. She described how we, in the white culture, live in a society that has buried itself in masks — where judgment and fear are gestating continuously and people no longer know who they really are. Her teachers, Domano and Chea Hetaka, Peruvian shamans from the Amazon River Basin, had referred to our modern day society as the “land of the living dead.” They saw that the stressed and stagnant people in our culture were asleep and numbed out by their addictions to their masks, no longer living in the passions, pleasures, and awakeness of their Songs.

          Kay taught me how masks operate through fear and mind control, and how they are plugged into our chakras and energy pathways, where they systematically and parasitically suck our life energy to keep themselves up and running. To call my power back, I was directed to the “bear cave,” an inner place of rigorous introspection, where, with the help of the unconditional love and acceptance and clarity of my Song, I could begin to identify, honor, and unplug my masks. “Real power is wrapped up in your attention,” Kay reminded me. By not giving the masks my attention, I could call my power and life energy back and direct my attention into the feeling of my Song, where I could live and thrive in my aliveness, perceiving clearly.

          I knew that this process of looking within with discernment was going to be quite an undertaking, as I had already identified many reactive and deadening habits that I had taken on from the culture. I met masks like The Philosopher-Student, who constantly searched for truth in philosophies and theories, and The Caretaker, who felt responsible for the happiness of others and, as a therapist, felt he could heal others’ problems. The Workaholic was there too, babbling about the need to keep busy, busy, busy, and get things done. The Timekeeper added even more pressure by racing to keep up with the clock. I also encountered Super Spouse, who compromised his deepest needs and desires to be what he thought was a supportive partner. And, although it was trying to remain hidden, I finally discovered The Astrologer mask, who defined himself by what he read about Sun signs and Moon signs and planetary positions.

          Each mask was loyal to itself and had its own agenda — its own tapes, which it would play back constantly, its own emotions and underlying fears, its own belief system and worldview, and its own triggers and reactions. At first, the masks seemed so subtle that I couldn’t distinguish them from me and my true gifts. I began to see how incredibly addictive they were because of their ability to stay hidden. They would, after all, lose their power if they were found out. They were like old buddies, always there in the back of my mind jabbering away, vying for attention, constantly competing and trying to outdo the others. Caught up as I was in my judgments about my self, others, and the world, it was going to be a real challenge to identify and release masks, but I wanted to live — really live — and if that required looking at the addictions, I was willing to go for it.

          Humor is very effective when it comes to unplugging masks. When we give them a silly name or title, it’s difficult to take them so seriously. For example, I called the astrology mask “Astro-Glue” to honor just how sticky it was and how stuck I had become inside of its programming. In getting to know this mask, I came to see how deeply it had affected my life. When I first became enamored with astrology, I unknowingly began to create this mask. I was afraid I would never find my true identity and hoped that astrology had the answers. It was a blind leap of faith. The more energy I poured into astrology, the more I fabricated the intricacies of the mask, until I became the mask. And with the continual acquisition of a mental dictionary of memorized and reshuffled astrological interpretations, I fed the mask’s programming. I developed Astro-Glue well enough to blindly believe that I could define my self by a birth chart and by the downloaded, rehashed, cookbook interpretations I had collected. I assumed that I could also see the truth of other people's lives and events, because I could readily define and describe them by their signs and aspects. I came to unconsciously rely on this mask, because, without it, I felt lost and unprotected. It had become my shield, and I hid behind it.

          By returning within frequently to the bear cave, I was eventually able to catch my self before I started resonating to Astro-Glue’s seductiveness. I didn’t have to take it on and wear it. My Song felt wonderfully vast, freeing, and compassionate, while Astro-Glue felt heady and empty. I could choose what I wanted to feel. I also came to admire and honor the mask’s tenacity and complexity, and by doing so, I no longer judged the mask or the experience of it. It simply was. I was no longer consumed by it. I was free, and it was free to move on. The win–win process of honoring my self, Astro-Glue, and the other masks, was very inspiring, and it worked to create stillness, peace, and harmony within me.

           With the teachings of Ka Ta See, and with the identifying and unplugging of Astro-Glue and many other masks, a beautiful thing happened — I began to see clearly. My spirit senses (the abilities to perceive through seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and sensing in a nonlinear fashion) and thus my gifts for journeying into the spirit world were developing. A wondrous ability of Song is to consciously enter the dreamtime, to spirit travel with the clear intent to meet the Spirits of the unseen worlds. These Spirits are very real and can be experienced first hand by anyone wishing to do so. If we are willing to put aside the masks that prevent and distort extrasensory perception, we can shift our focus to a vibrational level where we sense and meet many Spirits. Masks want us to believe that we are separate from the spirit or nonlinear worlds, whereas Song loves connecting with spirit beings. Like all beings, Spirits have Songs, too, and we can connect Song to Song with them for mutual enrichment and expansion.

          The spirit world is not a fantasy. Fantasies are created by masks to keep us disconnected from the world of Spirits. Our Songs can distinguish the difference between a fantasy and an actual spirit. In reality, the spirit world and this 3-D physical world (the nonlinear and the linear) are not separate. Separation is a myth, a blind belief propagated by our masks and by a power-driven culture that denies us permission to wake up to the personal power of our Songs. We have learned from the numbed-out environment of our white culture to turn off our spirit senses and ignore our connection to the spirit world. We have learned to stay small and isolated from the wondrous beings in the unseen universe. We do not have to live like this. We can choose not to give up our ability to see into and relate to the unseen. We are not controlled by our masks, nor are we shut down by the oppressiveness of the dominant culture, when we are in our Songs and own our gifts.

          With my growing ability to see and travel into the spirit world, I journeyed to meet many spirit helpers. During my early years of journeying, I had not met any Spirits who wanted to share knowledge about astrology. Then, on a spirit journey to a cave in South America that opened into a vast world of many landscapes, an interesting event took place. As I made my way down the shaft of the cave, I became aware that I was not alone. Down on my right was an old Raven stepping along beside me. The way he was walking, lifting each leg out from under him, made me laugh. He was very natural about our meeting, as if he had been waiting for me, and he immediately began joking with me. He said he was a “jaywalker,” that he liked to break silly, limiting rules and move between worlds in ways that made life exciting. Anything is possible in the nonlinear realms, and he showed me how he soared into various dreamtime places to retrieve knowledge. The Raven had a knack for obtaining the unobtainable and translating symbols into working knowledge, and it was clear that he intended to help me find what I needed to help my self and others. At the end of my time with him, he landed in the middle of an astrological wheel, the ancient glyphs of the constellations clearly marked on the circle about him. He conveyed with his thoughts and feelings that he was looking forward to helping me understand the knowledge and medicines of the stars. I was deeply grateful.

          My meeting with the Raven was the beginning of a new exploration of astrology. It felt like a return to an old homeland, one that I had almost forgotten. Since meeting the magical bird, I have met with many other beings who want to teach us about the ancient art of the stars, including the great benevolent Spirits we call the Sun, Moon, and planets. With their help, I returned to astrology with a passion and clarity that I had never before known.

          A particularly relevant knowledge that emerged from my direct interactions with the Spirits relates to seeing the zodiacal signs as doorways to our unique Songs. No astrology chart can capture the full essence of one’s Song, so Song cannot be squeezed into and defined by a birth chart. Song is just so vast. Instead, the 12 signs we see on the birth chart can be understood as gateways to experiencing our Songs. Each of our Songs has a specific vibrant feeling, and when we turn our attention to this feeling, we are being who we are. Each zodiacal sign speaks to particular feelings that we can experience in our Songs. Examples include the following:

·        Aries speaks to the passion of Song.

·        Taurus speaks to the feeling of pleasure and beauty.

·        Gemini speaks to the curiosity of Song.

·        Cancer speaks to the feeling of nourishment.

·        Leo speaks to joy, uniqueness, and dignity.

·        Virgo conveys the feeling of discernment.

·        Libra speaks to the feeling of balance, peace, and harmony.

·        Scorpio conveys the feeling of generosity and richness.

·        Sagittarius speaks to ancientness and knowingness.

·        Capricorn conveys the feeling of satisfaction.

·        Aquarius speaks to the feeling of connectedness and freedom.

·        Pisces speaks to the feeling of nonlinear delight, healing, and total acceptance.

          One inspiring, guiding feature of the zodiac of signs is that it leads us to rich feelings when we are in our Songs. And just as the zodiac is a vast circle of constellations (constellated energies) dancing harmoniously in the sky, so is our Song a vast array of feelings that are related in a beautiful and fluent manner. Turning our attention to a feeling associated with any sign will bring us into the center of our vibrancy. For example, feeling our Sagittarian knowingness or our Arian passion brings us right into our Songs. They all work. The quality of this kind of attention is full and wondrous. The Astro-Glue mask knew little about this feeling way of approaching astrology. The mask separated feeling from thinking and sensing and kept all activity stuck in the box of the linear mind. There was no vibrant whole and no connection to vastness.

          Just as the zodiacal signs can serve as doorways to feeling Song, the signs of the zodiac can also serve as signposts for identifying and unplugging the masks. Masks distort the feelings and desires of Song. Looking at the signs and the kinds of masks that seem to be related to them, the chart serves as a mandala for introspection. Here are some examples of signs and associated masks:

·        Aries: The Fighter turns passion into an addiction to winning at all costs, out of a fear of loss.

·        Taurus: The Glutton turns pleasure into an addiction to having more and more, out of a fear of not having enough.

·        Gemini: The Chatterbox turns curiosity into an addiction to incessant talking, out of a fear of not being heard.

·        Cancer: The Caretaker turns inner nourishment into an addiction to feeling responsible for others’ happiness, out of a fear of not being safe.

·        Leo: The Dictator turns inner joy and dignity into a need to lord over others, out of a fear of not being seen or a fear of powerlessness.

·        Virgo: The Critic, or Measurer, turns discernment into criticism or the measurement of self or others, out of a fear of not being good enough or having enough to offer.

·        Libra: The Peacemaker turns inner peace and harmony into an avoidance of conflict at all costs, out of a fear of being unloved.

·        Scorpio: The Demander turns generosity into emotional demands, out of a fear of not being able to experience deep intimacy with another.

·        Sagittarius: The Philosopher turns inner knowingness into a never-ending external pursuit of more information, out of a fear of not knowing enough.

·        Capricorn: The Workaholic turns deep satisfaction into planning, structuring, and working laboriously, trying to be busy and to do as much work as possible, out of a fear of losing status.

·        Aquarius: The Groupie turns Song’s connectedness with the web of life into hanging onto a group identity, out of a fear of not belonging.

·        Pisces: The Disillusioned Mystic turns delight, psychic awareness, and understanding of the spirit world into getting lost in and addicted to illusions and fantasies, out of a fear of pain or rejection. (Astro-Glue is another mask associated with Pisces.)

          There are many more masks, and they all destructively manipulate things and create realities to get and maintain control, in their own distinctive ways. They do anything they can to run the show. When we take into consideration the mask features of the signs of the Sun, Moon, and planets, the birth chart speaks in a whole new way, to help us identify and unplug the specific kinds of masks that are blocking us from feeling our aliveness and all the wonderful feelings of our Song.

          While I adventured into new terrain in the shamanic exploration of astrology, I became curious about the transits to my natal chart. I was particularly interested to know where the planets had moved to during the time period covering my initial enchantment with astrology, my awakening to my Song, and my rediscovery of astrology with Ka Ta See. Looking back, I saw that Neptune’s transits strongly correlated with certain events and shifts. I felt a sweet calling to go and meet the blue planet in order to fathom her transits. I wanted to draw upon the kind of knowledge I experienced when spirit journeying. Then, I could return to look at her transits with a real knowing of her.

          In the spirit journey, the undulating feeling around Neptune was delightful and enticing. It was like the feeling I have whenever I enter the dreamtime realm. I realized then that the inviting Neptunian energy was akin to the dreamtime. She is the planet that speaks to the nonlinear. Her medicines and symbols are gifts to anyone who seeks out her guidance. She invites us to make connections with the unseen. Her placement in the birth chart and her transits speak to our Song’s ability to communicate with and understand Spirits. Just as she inspires us to honor the vast nonlinear dimensions of our Songs and to own and use our dreamtime abilities, she also assists us to identify and unplug the masks that interfere with our ability to see clearly into the nonlinear, such as masks that cause us to use drugs addictively or escape into fantasies and illusions that cloud, hide, or mimic the unseen.

          Sensing that I had been enriched by Neptune’s gifts, I felt a new rhythm in my Song, and while viewing her transits with a nonlinear feeling about who she is, something beautiful about the astrological nature of her transits was revealed to me. Her transits invite us to join the dreamtime dance of Song in our solar system. As the planets orbit around the fiery sun, they are rattling and dancing in their individual Songs, humming and vibrating out the unique frequencies of their aliveness. As they chant out the frequencies of their Songs, they share and interact with each other, creating and orchestrating the dreamtime “music” of the spheres, something we can tune into, listen to, and feel with our own Songs. When we tune in with our Songs, we participate in the dance, offering our vastness and our wondrous notes in the universe and thus enriching the dance. When we offer our Songs to the planets, we open pathways of communication with them, and their Song frequencies travel directly to us. Embedded in the planets’ emitted frequencies are their medicines — their gifts of knowledge, which our spirit senses can receive and then translate into knowledge that we can understand and integrate into our lives.

          Neptune offers her Song and transits as gifts. She suggests opportunities for shifting our awareness to experience the delights of the nonlinear. These are gifts we can choose to accept or become aligned with. She does not use coercion. The choice is ours. She offers these gifts without expectations or judgments. There is no need to suffer, surrender, or abandon our selves. Nor do we need to wait for an exact transit to enter the dreamtime. Just as she is continuously in transit in the space around us, so too can we continuously choose to access vast dimensions and potentials of our selves. Transits that approach exact geometrical alignments with our natal planets suggest crescendos in the rhythms of our Songs. How we dance with our inner rhythms is up to each of us. The awareness of choice in every moment heightens our aliveness and our power to choose our path as spiritual beings.

          In regard to specific Neptune transits, when I had my first astrology chart done, Neptune was creating a grand trine with my natal Sun and Jupiter. This transit correlated with an opportunity to explore astrology and my self in a whole new nonlinear way. However, my masks obscured my deeper interests. Blindly thinking that this was my opportunity to find cosmic meaning, I allowed my self to be seduced into an illusion around astrology. It was a glittering illusion that promised a lot but offered little of substance. In the process, I buried my self in the newly created Astro-Glue mask.

          When I entered the university counseling program, Neptune had transited into a grand trine with my natal Mercury and Pluto and was sextiling my natal Neptune. Here my hope for deeper understanding and compassion for my self and others was distorted by my masks that wanted to keep me asleep. Instead of discovering directly who I am, I got lost in theories of psychology, believing the illusion that theories contained the knowledge of self I was seeking.

          When Neptune hovered over my Descendant, I felt drawn to explore authors and teachers who espoused living closely and spiritually with Mother Earth. During various earth philosophy workshops, and particularly during numerous vision quests, I experienced the spirit world through a series of powerful events. I was beginning to have a few breakthroughs, despite my unrecognized addiction to my masks.

          I embraced a profound inner calling to participate in several powerful rituals, ceremonies, and spirit journeys, while transiting Neptune was conjoining my natal Mars, opposing natal Uranus, and squaring my Mercury–Neptune opposition. The Native American rituals, along with the ceremonies and dreamtime journeys of Ka Ta See, invited the significant death of my limited and distorted perceptions of who I am. This was a time of healing and awakening, a time when I was beginning to feel the vast, nonlinear dimensions of my Song, embrace choice, live in the now, and feel a part of the web of life. To address my masks, which were resisting change, and my connectedness to the dreamtime, I dove into the bear cave and began the intense process of identifying and unplugging masks. I passionately sought frequent spirit contact and began journaling and illustrating my journey experiences.

          When Neptune trined my natal Venus in the 12th house, I was deeply exploring the dreamtime. Astrological knowledge began to come forward in my experiences, stimulating my curiosity and leading me to the discovery of a harmonious and balanced relationship with astrology. This time, I had the awareness of my Song and the teachings and tools of Ka Ta See to guide me. I continued my mask work, and as each mask was identified and unplugged, I felt more emotionally clear and at peace. Momentum was building in my dance between the linear and nonlinear realms.

          The adventure into the dreamtime is wonderfully endless: There is no end to the discovery and enrichment. With Uranus, the planet of astrology, guiding us into the paradigm of Aquarius, this is a particularly inviting time to shake up any assumptions and limiting ideas that we have about astrology and explore new nonlinear dimensions of our selves and our star knowledge.

Copyright Ó2005-8 by Ken Robinson. All rights reserved.

Contact Ken for Part 2 of this article which is included in a book of published articles which describe astrologyical spirit journeying, chart interpretation, and other dimensions of ancient star knowledge, all discovered with the use of the tools of Ka Ta See.