Rose Water, the Venus Cazimi and Co-creating Justice
Dear friend,
Over the weekend, I grabbed a basket and some shears, covered my body as much as possible and went into the forest to pick multiflora rose.
If you don’t know multiflora rose, they are an invasive plant with fishhook-like thorns that can easily overtake a large area if left unchecked. But they are also some of the most fragrant roses I’ve ever smelled, and for me, their aroma has always been a clear mark of summer, strawberry season, clear skies, and the buzz of bees.
Since I’ve come to astrology and returned to my place of birth, I’ve realized that while roses as a whole fall under Venus/Taurus, there is something very Mercurial about multiflora rose, aside from the fact that they always bloom when the Sun is in Gemini. The flowers grow in clumps, attract countless pollinators, and the plant spreads rapidly through the roots as well as the seeds.
This relationship became clearer to me this year because I’d been waiting for them to flower so I could quickly pick them and distill their fragrance into rose water. And sure enough, the east-facing side of the plants bloomed en masse as Venus drew nearer to the heart of the Sun.
Being in the heart of the Sun, or cazimi, occurs when a planet is within 1º of the Sun, as you may know. Many astrologers recommend these moments as auspicious for new beginnings, as some medieval texts discuss how fortunate they are for the planet that is being held in the heavenly fire.
The medieval Islamicate astrologers, however, add nuance to this. According to Dr. Ali Olomi, what’s happening is an alchemical process: the burning away of the superfluous that leads to a purified expression of a planet. It is Mars, his blades bathed in poison, poised to strike. It is Inanna, risen from the dead. It is a moment of clarity, though fleeting and portending more trials to undergo before emerging on the other side.
Distillation mimics this experience so clearly. Plant matter is heated until it releases its essence into the steam, leaving behind less desirable constituents. The steam then passes through the condenser coil and is slowly cooled by circulating water. It drips out of the spout as a liquid expression of the plant that’s been, in a sense, purified.
For people, this process looks like going through struggles, difficulties and traumatic events, and coming out of the other side knowing who you are and what you can do. It’s grieving together and creating meaning from pain. It reminds me of the video that’s been circulating of Samih Madhoun, a young Palestinian, playing the oud for a group of children, the beauty of his song, the result of and resistance to the horrors which he and his people are facing.
While I may be comparing some very different situations here, the thread that binds them together in my mind (aside from Venus) is that whatever beauty comes out of trials and tribulations is co-created. Hydrosols require the generosity of plants, a copper still, soothing waters and the attention of the distiller. Inanna was revived and nursed back to health by the galla and her sister. Samih Madhoun is able to draw attention to the plight of the Palestinians because of others who share his song.
In the face of great injustice, it’s normal to feel overwhelmed and even defeated. After all, we live in a society that makes everything our individual responsibility. But this is objectively not true. We couldn’t live without the Earth who supports us, the Plants and Animals who nourish us, the Sun that warms us. Every part of our existence is co-created and even a small tug on this web of connections can cause a shift.
If you’re wondering what strings of the web of connections you hold, one way to gain clarity about where your influence lies is through an astrology reading. My schedule for the next month is available and I’d love to sit with you.
I also recommend donating to one of the many fundraisers that are helping Palestinians (such as this one). Though it may just seem like a drop in the bucket, with enough drops the water will spill over.
Wishing you roses,
Robert