Interestingly enough, almost no one gets mine right. Most people, meeting me for the first time, guess that I am a Fire sign, with Leo coming out overall winner. Must be the red mane and ferocious temper, I suppose!
Oddly, I have always had an uncanny ability to clock other people’s signs – and, often, actual days of hatchment – accurately. This was an amazing tool in the classroom. Nothing like pointing to a rebellious teen and saying, ‘You’re Pisces, aren’t you? Late February, I suspect!’ to shut the little bugger up.
I often bump into ex-pupils, and almost invariably I will remember their dates of birth correctly within a day or two.
Why? How? Who knows?! I certainly don’t! A sibling is semi-convinced that this is evidence of autistic traits (and she may well be right); some think I am psychic (another distinct possibility); while a large group of people think I am, quite simply, several root vegetables short of a ratatouille (again, could be bang on the nail there!).
So, taking this all into consideration, do I think it possible to tell someone’s Sun sign just by looking at him or her?
No. I don’t. I think you have to get a feel for the personality as well. But, as is clear from my own example, even knowing the person does not guarantee an accurate assessment.
Now, obviously, our Natal Charts are made up of a great many planetary influences, with the Sun being just one of them. From memory (though it is a while since I took a gander at my own chart), I have a large number of Fire signs burning their way through my personality, so it may well be that this fiery influence has kicked my actual sign more or less into touch!
But there are clues. Of course! Many people think I look younger than I actually am. Some days, I would seriously dispute that opinion! But, my actual birth sign is, apparently, renowned for its reverse-ageing effect, with children looking like tiny Methuselahs and over-fifties (and I am well over fifty!) often keeping a relatively youthful appearance well into their respective dotages.
I am well aware that many people do not put any credence in Astrology, preferring to see it as Mumbo-Jumbo or, to be far blunter, a load of old bollocks! Fair enough. Each to his own. Belief is, after all, a funny old matter – and one man’s belief can so easily turn into another’s greatest source of enjoyable cynicism!
We are not our birth signs, any more than we are our pancreases, hearts or Islets of Langerhans. On that point, I am quite clear. We are a Vichyssoise made up of all manner of disparate, and frankly bloody weird, thread and patches. We are continent rather than single country! Yes, the Sun sign is bobbing up through the sauce somewhere, but then so are buttocks!
But, to me, Astrology is a part of the whole. You might as well say you don’t believe in the Amygdala; after all, your chances of meeting your own and, as it were, shaking its hand and taking it out for a pint, are non-existent. You only see the thing during an autopsy (and barely even then) – and I’m not aware of many who have watched their own Post Mortem examinations!
Any old how, before I delve too deeply into my own lights, so to speak, and cause mass revulsion, let me take the risk of making one final point:
Religions start as stories and articles of faith and are, in my opinion, driven by the specific needs of human beings (which is why the type of god form worshipped varies so little!). There is no proof of a particular god’s existence. But that doesn’t stop millions of people believing in them. The planets do, actually, have material existence behind them, though absolute proof of their influence upon humanity is lacking.
I don’t think I need to labour the point.
Now for something a little bit strange. Or maybe not! The other sign people often guess for me is Aquarius. So, here goes: My next-sister-down and I were both due in January. She was born three weeks late; I was whelped three weeks early. We were both born on, or around, the other one’s due date! With neither of us being on, or near, the cusp!