This is the seventh part of my essay series “Inner Work with the Planets”. If you haven’t read the earlier parts yet, I suggest you start with part 1 to get the most out of this essay.
Last time, we left the sphere of Venus behind and approached the Sun – and then enthusiastically went down a rabbit hole of Hermetic proportions. Well, at least I was rather enthusiastic. For all I know, you just might have been clinging on for dear life. ๐
Either way, I hope you’ve spent at least a bit of time pondering the implications of a (positive, life-affirming) monistic and of a (pessimistic, negative) dualistic outlook on your own life, because we will circle back to them later in this essay, where I will also have a confession to make.
For now, though, let’s pick up where we left off last time, and that’s with the question “Why have we been discussing all of this here, in an essay about the Sun?”
While the (physical) sun up there in the sky isn’t the center of the universe, it is certainly the center of our universe down here on earth. In our little part of the cosmos, everything rotates around the sun – quite literally.
And not only that, but the sun, and the energy and light it emanates, are also the basis for all life on earth.
If the planet Venus wouldn’t exist, for example, our view of the sky would certainly be a bit poorer – but for our practical life on earth, the absence of Venus wouldn’t make one iota of a difference.
(Just to be clear, we’re talking strictly about physical effects here, from a materialistic point of view!)
The same is true for Mars, Jupiter, Saturn and Mercury. Although, sadly, most people wouldn’t even notice if Mercury or Saturn would go missing, as they’ve never even seen them in the sky…
The Moon is a bit more important, of course, as it has direct, measurable effects on earth, like the tides. Still, if there was no Moon orbitting our planet earth, I’m convinced life (and not just human life) would still go on, albeit with minor adaptations.
But if the Sun was missing… if the Sun was missing, there’d be no life, no light, and no solar system in the first place.
Thus for us, in very practical terms, the Sun is the most important of the seven classic planets by far. Without the Sun, there would be no human life in material incarnation on earth.
And since, of all the planets, the Sun is the one most intimately tied to the existence of our material life, his sphere is the perfect place to dive into the distinction (or non-distinction, in monism) between mind and matter.
(I keep saying “he”, btw, even though “die Sonne” is female in some languages like German, as the Sun is traditionally seen as male rather than female. Although his gender, as that of some other planets like Mercury, can on occasion change. Gender identity just doesn’t seem to be that big of an issue if you are the size of a planet… ๐ )
After all, what better place would there be to contemplate the nature of material life and its relation to the non-material than in the sphere of the planet which enables said material life in the first place?
Of course, we aren’t the first to ask these questions – and we certainly aren’t the first to wonder about any parallels between the material and the non-material world. ๐
As with so many other things, the ancient Hermeticists got there before us (although, of course, they were by far not the only ones!). For example, you might have heard of the somewhat famous Hermetic principle “as above, so below”.
But while it’s immensely tempting to take another sharp turn and follow this principle down yet another rabbit hole, I will show super-human self-restraint by not going down that route,, and will instead pull this essay firmly back to our topic at hand: the Sun. Maybe another time…;-)
The importance of the Sun in our little corner of the cosmos is something we as humans intuitively understand. Open up a magazine or newspaper, and chances are good you’ll find a “horoscope” section which predicts how your week will go, based on your “sun sign”, i.e. the astrological sign the Sun was in at your birth.
You’re probably aware that this is a very broad brush, though. The chances of 1/12th of the world population experiencing essentially the same things in any given week are slim to none. (“For you as an Aquarius, Tuesday is a great day to ask your boss for a raise, but be aware of car accidents on Friday.”)
If you’ve ever had anything to do with astrology in a deeper sense, of course you know that the sun sign really is a broad brush – too broad to be meaningful all on its own.
(That’s why all the really cool people don’t just mention their sun signs in any conversation, but also their ascendents! ๐ )
But the influence of your birth chart is not only much more complex than that, it also has a direct relation to the Hermetic view of the planets, and to the way we approach inner work with the planets in this essay series. We’ll talk about this connection some more in the next essay. But for now, let’s (finally!) tackle the vices and virtues of the Sun, shall we? ๐
So… What are the vices and virtues of the Sun from an Hermetic point of view?
Well, I hope you remember the story of the hike with which we entered the Sun’s sphere in the last essay. As in this story, we can take our cues about the “coins” of the Sun from his appearance in the sky. Only this time it’s not on the night sky, as it is for the other planets, but during the day.
That’s our first cue right here, btw: The Sun is different from the other planets – very different. We’ll get back to his special position in a later essay (much later, but I promise we will get back to it!).
For now, though, it’s sufficient to consider the specifics: The Sun is large. He is bright. And hot.
So what do the Sun’s material attributes teach us about his vices and virtues?
Radiating energy, the Sun is an important source of all life on earth. Without his energy, there’d be no warmth, no vitality, no life, no light. But remember the story of the hike: Just as too little of the Sun’s energy and warmth isn’t good, so is too much of it.
This quality translates directly into a vice and corresponding virtue: I’m sure you know people who don’t radiate enough. They might be like grey mice. They might seem lifeless, or without personality of their own. They might hide behind others, or keep their head down instead of speaking up.
And you certainly also know people on the other end of the spectrum: The people who always talk a bit too loudly. The person who is there for everybody, whether they want it or not. People who intrude into your personal sphere, or can’t keep to themselves. Simply put, people who radiate too much.
While both hiding a bit and shining overly brightly might be necessary sometimes, the sweet spot oftentimes is somewhere in the middle: Be present, radiate yourself, your ideas, or your personality, but not so much that you’ll kill everything around you with the heat of your rays.
The same is true for other things which the Sun radiates outwards: Love, for example. Or warmth of all kinds (including things like empathy).
Radiate too little of them as a parent, for example, and you’re emotionally stone-cold and your kids will suffer. Radiate too much, and you’re the overbearing parent which will suffocate their kids. Neither of these extremes is desirable, of course.
The tricky thing about the Sun’s coins is that the vices are on both ends of a spectrum, in radiating too much and in radiating too little.
(This isn’t just true for the Sun’s vices and virtues, btw. There are many things where “too much” is equally unproductive as “too little”. All things in moderation, including moderation, and all that… ๐ )
Or, in other words: If you’re prone to certain vices of the Sun, you might tend to “radiate” too much – to suffocate others with your warmth or love (where it might not be wanted), with your personality (so theirs can’t shine), or with your energy (so they don’t have a chance of taking over).
The corresponding virtue to this vice does not lie in the opposite extreme: If you tone down your rays completely and pull back into a shell or behind a wall, the world isn’t better off for it.
The solution is to shine in moderation, to be there without being overwhelming, and this just as each situation requires. In some instances, you might want to put a lot of energy, personality or love outwards – and in others, it might be wise to tone it all down considerably, and to let others shine (even if you feel you know better, or could do better than them).
The latter, btw, is another vice of the Sun. As the ruler of our solar system, he wields a certain amount of power and the responsibility to come with it, and he is aware of it. And wielding that much power (and so much more energy than everybody else around you) can lead to arrogance.
This vice can manifest in different ways: Somebody might feel irreplaceable. He might think he’s smarter than others, and let them know or feel it. As a boss or leader, he might insist on knowing better than everybody else, and foster yes-men over more qualified people to bolster his own ego. In personal relationships, this could be the person who always knows better than others what is good – for them.
But the other side of this coin is, again, not the other extreme, it’s not the self-doubting doormat – the corresponding virtue to the vice of arrogance is the person who is aware of his strengths and weaknesses, but is secure enough in his power and self-image that he isn’t afraid of admitting said weaknesses:
The person in authority who knows that he doesn’t know everything, and who isn’t afraid to say that out loud, or to ask for advice (and then accept it!). The friend who really does know better than you – but doesn’t insist on telling you unless you ask for it.
In short: The Sun’s strength isn’t in humility, in shyness or weakness – it’s in being strong and self-confident enough to let others shine, too.
The sheer power of the Sun is another one of its coins, btw. And just as powerful rulers can be wise or cruel, so does this coin of the Sun have two different sides, a vice and a virtue.
The negative side of this coin can lead people to strive for power, just for power’s sake. Or to try to dominate others, and not necessarily by cruelty or sheer force, but by power plays or overshadowing everybody else.
The positive side… Well, is there a positive side to people seeking power? You might be tempted to say “no”, but think about it:
There are situations when a leader is needed, and somebody has to step up to the plate. Or situations where somebody has to take responsibility, to make a decision, to be the first to take action:
After an accident, for example, where oftentimes people stand around helplessly, waiting for one person to take responsibility and start telling them what to do – and once one person accepts this position of power, everybody else is suddenly enabled to take action, too.
All of these are forms of power – and all of them radiate out to other people.
Thus one of the virtues of the Sun is the person who isn’t afraid to take on power or responsibility, especially when everybody else is shying away from it.
Closely tied to power is being seen, and of course this is one of the core vices and core virtues of the Sun. After all, no other planet is as visible in the sky as the Sun! And again, there are two sides to this coin.
(Not a big surprise by now, I suppose. One of these days, I will invent a planetary coin which is only a vice, or only a virtue, just to check if you’re still awake and following along… ๐ )
The vice is the hunger for being seen. This can manifest in different ways: Pushing into the limelight is part of this vice, as is the constant self-talk of “nobody pays any attention to me, I’m not important”.
The corresponding virtue is a bit more subtle and harder to spot, ironically: It’s the person who doesn’t shy away from being seen for what they are. Who isn’t afraid of letting their talents or their actions shine and speak for themselves. Who is comfortable in public, or in the spotlight, when the occasion calls for it – but who doesn’t have to be the shining star if the occasion doesn’t.
Just as the Sun is pure energy, in some sense, so are its vices and virtues. Wield this energy wisely, and you will bring fertility, vitality and warmth to the world – wield it unwisely, the world will either be colder and poorer for it, or worse yet, it will burn to ashes under your rays.
As usual, I invite you to contemplate the Sun and its vices and virtues a bit until the next essay comes up in two weeks. Think about how they apply to your life, or to people around you – and especially where and how (and why) you live his vices, and where and how his virtues.
Before we wrap things up for today, though, we need to quickly circle back to monism and dualism (and nope, I haven’t forgotten about the confession I need to make either! ๐ ).
In the last essay, I took you down the rabbit hole of monism and dualism, starting out with philosophy, and then making a neat turn towards the spiritual implications of these worldviews. Since that essay ran rather long as it was, I heroically refrained from going even deeper into the depths of said rabbit hole, and its potential implications on your inner work. So let’s quickly revisit this topic, shall we, because it’s well worth considering!
When you do any kind of inner work, there are two potential approaches:
The first is to perceive the divine in everything, as a monistic spiritual belief does. In this approach, everything is already perfect as it is – and yep, that would include you, too! ๐
Of course, life in material incarnation isn’t always divinely perfect (and this, again, does include you). Thus your task in this approach to inner work would be to identify the divine at the heart of yourself, to dig it out from under all the rubble which has accumulated around it, and to let it shine.
Or, in other words: Focus on that which is good in you, on the beautiful, the true, the things which are already as they should be. Live your true strenghts and your inner beliefs, and thus turn yourself and the world into a better place.
This is a very valuable approach, especially in a society where we are constantly told we aren’t good enough. On the other hand, though, it’s worth keeping in mind our discussion of the vices of the Sun further up: If you focus on your inner divinity to the exclusion of everything else, it could well be that you end up an arrogant jerk.
The second approach is inspired by dualism and its belief that the divine is somewhere “up there”, separate from the muddy, murky, dirty world of matter. Approaching your inner work based on this belief means to shed this world of matter and all that belongs to it.
Or, in other words: Focus on what isn’t already perfect in you, and do your best to let go of it. This could include unproductive habits, worldviews which hurt you, a negative image of yourself, relationships which pull you down, or all sorts of other things. If it isn’t a graceful expression of your divine inner beauty, you don’t have to keep it.
This, too, is a very valuable approach, especially in a society which constantly stresses the importance of the individual self and of personal worth. On the other hand, though, it’s again worth keeping in mind our discussion of the vices of the Sun further up: If you focus on your negative traits to the exclusion of everything else, it could well be that you never let your light shine the way you (and the world) deserve.
Both ways have their merits, in other words – and both have their dangers.
Of course, nobody says you can only apply one of these approaches to your inner work, quite the contrary! Remember that the Sun’s virtues are also in the middle of two extremes, between too dull and too shiny. And for inner work, most people would benefit from a balanced middle ground, too, i.e. from a combination of both approaches.
There might be areas of your life and your personality, after all, where focusing a bit more on the positive and the divine within you would certainly do you good – and there might be other areas where toning it down a bit and instead focusing on letting go of your negative traits might be very much in order.
The first are areas where you would do well to shine a bit more. The second are areas where you would do well to not shine too much.
In the end, only you can figure out what the best approach (or combination of approaches) is for you – and I hope you’ll spend some time pondering this, too!
As to the confession I have to make… (nope, I haven’t forgotten! ๐ )
When we hopped down this rabbit hole of dualism and monism, you, my dear astute reader, might have noted with some amusement that at some point I took a very sharp turn to the left, and led you away from the main path of monistic vs. dualistic philosophy which covers all the different and varied facets of these two worldviews, and instead dragged you straight down a very narrow tunnel of the spiritual implications of two very specific religious (monistic and dualistic) viewpoints.
That’s to say, I somewhat sneakily left aside most of what could (and maybe should) be said about monism, dualism and their respective meanings, and instead focused on one very specific interpretation of these terms.
Fortunately, all we’ve discussed about monism and dualism from this point onwards wasn’t wrong – it just wasn’t the full picture, but only a very narrow slice of it.
I hope you’ll forgive me for this sleight of hand, which I pulled because it so very neatly connects the discussion about historical Hermeticism with two approaches to inner work which I wanted to highlight. ๐
But while I think it was a worthwhile thing to do, I also felt the need to fess up about it. After all, I wouldn’t want you to think that this is all there is to monism or dualism – but it’s all we’re going to cover in this essay series, as the other tunnels of this rabbit hole would lead us too far away from our topic, from doing inner work with the help of the Hermetic planets…
And with this confession, we’ll close for today. But as usual, I appreciate any comments or questions you might have!
The next essay will go up in two weeks, and it will lead us straight up into the sphere of the next planet. See you then! ๐
Image: Jyrki Nieminen on Unsplash
Thinking-Turtle says
Thanks for your blog series!
“Remember that the Sunโs vices are also in the middle of two extremes, between too dull and too shiny. ”
Shouldn’t vices be virtues in this sentence?
Regine says
Yep, absolutely! ๐ Thanks for pointing it out. I have corrected it in the text.
Regine
Valerie says
I very much appreciate the humor you bring to your writing! The light approach (pun intended!) helps it slip into the mind. I’m good with being hauled into rabbit holes with a guide, as they can lead to unexpected and interesting places.
I’m currently on my second trip through JMG’s “The Occult Philosophy Workbook” and make it a point to greet the sun and the moon when I first glimpse them daily. They are much more than just rocks in the sky. I’m beginning to suspect that they are, in addition to many other things, teachers to those who care to pay attention.
Hence the coins. Life is not static. I very much like the approach of balancing energies, and of applying a monistic or a dualistic outlook depending on what feels appropriate to the situation.
Valerie
Regine says
Hi Valerie,
Thanks. I’m glad you enjoy the essays! Indeed, there seems to be something “up there” which is more than a mere rock, or merely hot gas.
We’ll get back to various kinds of different outlooks on things later in the series (have I already told you it’s going to run for a good while longer? If not, well, it is! ๐ ). So maybe you have something to look forward to there…
Regine