At long last, we make it to the Qi Character of the Year—Monkey. It has been a Monkey of a year, for sure. I feel like I don’t even need to explain the Fire Monkey, for the year has been such a great lesson. Of course, everyone experienced the buffet of the year differently based on their own Character, but the public image via the shitshow that is internet media suggests that the Year has been difficult for many.
The Fire Monkey is a bit like Heath Ledger’s Joker from Batman. It came to show us the futility of all our plans. This kind of disruption must be available in the cycle of time, or else we may think time is linear, heading towards some perfect future. Fire Monkey set fire to all that.
There is no perfect future; any peak experience progressing toward a better future can only turn into its opposite. Period. Repeat—things only get better temporarily; they only get worse temporarily. Wisdom is relaxation, riding the cyclical waves of Yin-Yang, not working productively towards a greater future (this is lunacy). Monkey reminds us of this. The more we resist natural chaos, the more dramatic our fall.
Many are bashing 2016, and I don’t want to associate all this negativity with the Monkey. The Fire Monkey offers a profound wisdom that has been poking you in the plans all year—have you noticed? I hope I can share with you the Wisdom of the Monkey and change your perspective on the last year.
As a Tiger, Monkey Qi is my opposite. Many misunderstand the diametric relationship in Chinese Astrology. On the cheesy folk level, what you find in most books on the Twelve Animals, they say—Tiger-Monkey, Pig-Snake, Dragon-Dog—oh, very bad! But this level of Astrology assumes that ordinary people have little to no capacity for self-reflection, which may be true—I don’t know.
The diametric is a mirror relationship. Spiritually, they are complementary opposites, which tend to polarize and attract, creating a fascination with each other’s differences. The relationship of opposites can be explosive and prone to volatility, but this explosive quality has tremendous potential for transformation if met with self-reflection.
I have many close Monkey friends, and I love all of them, for they mirror myself back to me. When presented with the Monkey perspective, I scratch my head and go—wow, I would not have thought of that! There is a great YouTube video of a monkey messing with tigers, jumping off the tree, pulling the tiger’s tail and then jumping out of reach—such is the Monkey-Tiger dance.
This year, too, has been a fantastic mirror—tough, one of the most difficult of my life, an internal struggle mostly, but good lord, I’ve learned a lot. As a Tiger, I have a difficult time understanding the Monkey, so hopefully this will make sense. I encourage you to study your opposite, as I have, and let it reveal to you your own Character. The opposites are—Rat-Horse, Ox-Goat, Tiger-Monkey, Rabbit-Rooster, Dragon-Dog, and Snake-Pig.
As I delve into Monkey Qi, I encourage you to reflect on your experience of this year. I will not review the events of this year considering the Monkey, so let these symbols speak to you through your own experience. The Twelve Characters are best learned in your day to day lived experience.
Every 60 years, every 60 months, every 60 days, every 60 hours, we pass through everyone we will ever meet, energetically speaking. Every day, I look at the Character of the Day and then simply feel, reflect, and observe as I go about my life. Today is a Water Dragon day, for example. What does this feel like? How does my experience reflect this Qi? Find out the Character of your friends and family and simply observe the way they interact given their Character relationships—this is the best way to learn Chinese Astrology.
Asia adores the Monkey. It is a very rich symbol in Chinese Cosmology. Monkeys are common all over Asia, particularly, the gibbon and macaque, and many cultural myths surround them. Both China and Tibet share stories of ancient Monkey Ancestors; perhaps, they had a natural understanding of “evolution.” Chinese folk religion regards monkeys as supernatural beings, and many myths about monkey spirits, monkey demons, and half-monkey/human hybrids abound throughout China’s history. In general, Monkeys are depicted much like humans, both foolish and wise. In the Chinese Zodiac, Monkey represents the fated human flaw so heavily debated throughout the history of religion—desire.
We find Monkey in the transmission of Buddhism to China, which began around the 2nd century B.C.E, most famously depicted in the 16th century Ming Dynasty novel, Journey to the West, which was later abridged by English author Arthur Waley in the widely read novel titled Monkey.
In this story, the Buddha seeks a Chinese pilgrim to journey West to India and retrieve the Buddhist Scriptures so that Chinese people could be enlightened (typical Buddhist evangelism, as if the Chinese Tradition was not rich enough). Based on the legendary Tang Dynasty Monk Xuánzàng, the main character Tripitika, volunteers, goes, and returns successful after many trials and tribulations.
Gautama Buddha and the Bodhisattva Guanyin, enlist three protectors to help him along the way, including the famous Sūn Wùkōng —the Monkey King, who was imprisoned under a mountain by the Buddha for rebelling against Heaven. Sūn Wùkōng is a trickster, able to shapeshift and transform his appearance. In the journey, the Monkey King becomes a disciple of Xuánzàng and undergoes transformation from trickster rebel to enlightened sage.
Early Buddhism used many monkey similes. We have all heard of the famous “Monkey Mind.” The Samyutta Nikaya says, "Just as a monkey roaming through a forest grabs hold of one branch, lets that go and grabs another, then lets that go and grabs still another, so too that which is called 'mind' and 'mentality' and 'consciousness' arises as one thing and ceases as another by day and by night." As Monkeys helped to transmit the Buddhist Scriptures, they became allegories for the transformation of Monkey to Enlightened Mind.
The Monkey King was initially a Daoist Immortal before being worked into Buddhism. Daoism, too, tells many tales of the Monkey. Zhuangzi’s famous tales goes, “Once upon a time, there was a monkey keeper who was feeding little chestnuts to his charges. ‘I'll give you three in the morning and four in the evening,’ he told them. All the monkeys were angry. ‘All right, then,’ said the keeper, ‘I'll give you four in the morning and three in the evening.’ All the monkeys were happy with this arrangement. Without adversely affecting either the name or the reality of the amount that he fed them, the keeper acted in accordance with the feelings of the monkeys. He too recognized the mutual dependence of "this" and " that." Consequently, the sage harmonizes the right and wrong of things and rests at the center of the celestial potter's wheel.” Here the Monkey and Sage dichotomy depicts the transformation from delusion to enlightenment, implying that nothing happens other than a shift in perspective.
Liu Ming played with this famous tale in his book Dragon’s Play. Here, Ming used the image of Monkey and Sage to represent our dual nature of energy and awareness. The delicate balancing act between these two, between freedom and control, is the dance of duality that every human must integrate to follow the Way.
At its core, Monkey Qi represents this perilous balancing act, like the monkey swinging through the trees, balancing from branch to branch. Monkeys are poised between the sacred and the profane, fluctuating between materialism and austerity, selfish fantasy and visionary wisdom. Every Human has this dance inside them. Though depicted as Godlike, Monkey Qi symbolizes the weakness commonly associated with humans—desire, which keeps them dancing between the poles.
This may sound dramatic, but Monkey Qi is fundamentally playful. The Chinese never thought to demonize desire like the West. Even Buddhism could not make judgmental moralists of the Chinese (to the Chinese morality is Astrological). Monkey’s balancing act is not a battle between good and evil where order wins over chaos. Both are natural aspects of our being—Yin-Yang. We must make friends with both, and Monkey Qi forever plays with this dynamic.
Ultimately, to tell a Monkey (or anyone) to sit still and control Monkey Mind is stupid. Monkeys must play. They are the Wisdom of Playfulness and Survival. The playfulness of Monkey Qi is a sleight of hand poking fun at the seriousness of “good and evil,” revealing duality as a game, a playful situation rather than the cause of “suffering.” If you put your Monkey Mind in a cage called meditation—how will this lead to freedom?
The myth that the mind must be trained is stupid; concentration (when excessive) is madness, especially to the Monkey. Training the monkey/ox/horse, or whatever metaphor you want to use for the mind, implies that your Nature and Duality are problematic—they’re not; your Nature is perfectly free as it is. Meditation is an expression of your Nature, not an exercise in making it behave.
I lived with Monkeys on an island in Thailand for a period and learned a lot watching them. I found them to be very social creatures. They roamed about the island in packs and would march down the beach in big monkey processions. Momma monkeys carried babies on their backs, and they had groups with leaders and sidekicks.
They were unbelievably curious, and everything they did was playful. They would wrestle around, jump on everything, and investigate all they came across. A monkey once jumped on my table while I was eating breakfast, snatched the coffee mug out of my hand along with a handful of sugar packets, ran off into the trees, and then preceded to throw the sugar packets at me. They would also lunge at me bearing their teeth—perhaps they knew I was a Tiger.
We find the impulse of Monkey Qi in its Native Element—Yang Metal. Yang Metal examines, refines, distills, transforms; it is precision, ingenuity, and imagination, the active conceptual mind used for problem solving; it is our capacity for vision which internalizes, draws in, and goes towards Water, which is full blown mysticism. This active conceptual quality of Yang Metal is the so-called Monkey Mind, but the virtue of this is imagination, self-reflection, wit, and intellect, which are obviously important qualities.
Like the Five Tigers, the Five Elemental Monkeys are very different. This year has been a Fire Monkey year, and “Fire melts Metal.” This is not conflict, but it can generate conflict! The kè or controlling relationship between the elements is necessary for Qi to keep moving, and each controlling relationship is different. When Fire melts Metal, inspiration and vitality soften our rigid thinking, releasing boundaries and hardness, and turn Metal to Water. When this becomes overactive, or “insulting,” the passionate, aggressive, and consuming qualities of Fire lead to hyperactivity, erratic behavior, and excessive disordered thinking. This Year, then, offered the possibility of tremendous inspiration, to push beyond the limits of imagination, but if met with too much Fire/aggression, then the Year also offered the possibility of profound delusion and irrational behavior.
In the beginning of the Year, I told many people—anything can happen in a Fire Monkey year, depending on how we negotiate the Fire-Metal conundrum. This is the kind of year we could have ran with inspiration, softened the boarders of what was possible, and for example—elected Bernie Sanders. Or, this was the kind of year in which people’s fear and paranoia could consume them, generating aggression and eclipsing the rational mind, and for example—we could elect Donald Trump. No further comment. All of this is available in the cycles of Time based on how we negotiate these Elemental Qi Character Cycles.
The Wood Monkey is the most playful, the least serious, and the most resilient of Monkeys. The Fire Monkey we know. Earth Monkeys are more grounded but a bit at odds with being on the ground, since their Monkey impulse tells them to swing. Metal Monkeys are the most natural and at home in their Monkeyness. And Water Monkeys push the mischievous boundaries of Monkey Qi into unknown, possibly dark, mystical territories—not even Heaven can perceive what they’re up to.
The impulse of Monkey Qi, which may shed some light on the past year—the impulse of Yang Metal, tests limits and pushes boundaries, seeking the release of Water; Monkeys define life by taking risks. Life without risk—why bother? Where is the fun in that? Monkeys like to poke, play, push, and test possibilities. They seek adventure, excitement, to keep on moving. Stagnation is death to the Monkey. They seek to go as far out as they can into extreme situations, places, experiences, and so on, just so they can bounce back and say “wow, that was cool!”
Yang Metal generates what I call “scanning Qi.” Monkeys in their natural environment always scan for danger—where are the Tigers? Monkey Qi provides a broad pervasive awareness of the environment and all the details within. Monkey feels the precise movement and activity of the jungle and is at home in the chaos. Silence, stillness, serenity—this spells doom for the Monkey; what’s coming to kill me? Monkey keeps moving, staying forever on its toes/tail.
Monkeys (this category includes apes) and Human Beings share many similarities, and these similarities highlight many of the Key Terms we will discuss. Humans, arguably, became dominant because of our ability to use tools and problem solve, which is mostly due to having thumbs.
Monkey Hour is from 3-5pm. Monkey Qi is associated with planning, strategizing, projecting, adapting, and imagining, so Monkey Hour is the time to look forward to the next day or week and plan. It is the time to cease productivity and to shift into imagination. During Monkey Hour, our Qi naturally anticipates the end of the day and the transition into night. It is a time of adaptation; soon we must head home, but before we do, we must digest the experience of the day, adapt accordingly, and anticipate what may come. Since Monkey Qi is playful, this is the time to end the seriousness of work, “quitting time,” when you should joke and have fun with co-workers before heading home. If you were born between 3-5 pm, you are also part Monkey.
If the Goat teaches us about social responsibility, justice, order, harmony, fairness, and interconnection, then Monkey teaches us that none of this is serious. When Goat gets on a high horse and its rhetoric starts working people up—here come the Monkeys.
The First Key term, then, is curious. Think Curious George. Like the Monkey stealing my sugar packets, Monkey people have an intense desire to investigate, to understand, to peak behind the curtain, to get to the bottom of things, and to pull the rug out from under people. They often seek professions, lifestyles, and hobbies that express this curiosity, and they tend to be spiritual seekers who rebel against committing to a single path, for there is always another branch, another tree with more fruit. Monkeys are in danger of what Chogyam Trungpa called spiritual Materialism—getting into the spiritual path because it offers fun and exciting experiences, which Monkey is very curious about. This curiosity goes hand and hand with the Monkey’s naturally playful disposition.
On the flipside, curiosity turns to erratic and frantic behavior—yes, Monkey Mind. By nature, Monkeys have a profound capacity for distraction. When depleted their minds scatter, race, and push them into a thousand places at once. This erratic behavior can cause them to quit jobs, abandon projects, change their minds, and waffle back and forth unable to make decisions. Monkey Qi defines compulsive (rather than impulsive) behavior, and they can easily spin out into addiction and self-destructive tendencies.
Monkeys are playful, funny; they joke and like to mess with people. In their hearts, Monkeys do not take life seriously. They are not grave or morbid. They view life as a playful act. Alan Watts once said—life is musical in nature, and we are supposed to dance while the music is being played. When other people are morbid, Monkeys want to tickle them. Monkeys want to pull the rug out from under peoples plans. When confronted with hard decisions, the Monkey response is usually—play! This can confound other people who want them to commit and be responsible. Tiger, Monkey’s opposite, hates to be messed with and we can tend towards toxic moodiness, hence the Monkey pulling the Tiger’s tail.
This playfulness is also imitative in nature. Monkey see, Monkey do. Monkey, like Snake, learns by imitating. They can watch someone do something, and then do it better than them. While Snakes do this by becoming the teacher, Monkeys do so by adaptation and cleverness, which is part of the shapeshifting trickster image. If you show off in front of a Monkey, they may just make a fool of you, and they are not afraid to make fools of themselves.
Monkeys have powerful imaginations and are extremely intelligent and innovative people. The Monkey imagination is beyond visionary. Monkeys can climb high in the trees and see far out beyond the branches. This imagination, being Yang, is creative, and Monkey ranks as one of the “artistic” types. If Monkeys can sit still, they are capable of being great artists. If not, Monkey Qi expresses profound intelligence, the ability to learn and change the way things are done.
Monkey Qi scans, schemes, plans, and looks for solutions. When confronted with a problem or danger, the Monkey will look for options, ways around; they want to sneak past danger and with sleight of hand fool the Tiger. I was once sitting in traffic with my Godmother, a Wood Monkey, and we hit a traffic jam. Her immediate response was to google alternate routes and look up traffic reports. My response was to sit there; it never even occurred to me that there was another option, for the Tiger response to danger is to pounce forward like a freight train, while the Monkey is the acrobat, nimbly escaping obstacles.
Monkey Qi is resourceful. Monkeys can find, utilize, and manipulate resources to their advantage unlike any other sign. They can be amazingly productive when put to these kinds of tasks, and they demonstrate the Human capacity to create and make tools for survival. This is an immense social and professional skill that I envy, for it is completely beyond me. Monkeys are incredibly capable beings, able to learn and master many skills. They tend, however, to be Jacks of all Trades and Masters of None.
When depleted, this capacity for imagination and innovation turns to fantasy and delusion. Monkeys are masters of creating and living in fantasy worlds, what we can call “storylandia.” Their scheming can generate many versions of reality, and at their worst, Monkeys buy into them and can spin out in alternate realities, which they find fascinating, entertaining. Monkey Qi tends to indulge fantasy because it is fun. Again, this is a playful act, so Monkeys can test the limits of sanity and bounce back.
Monkeys demonstrate the fact that nothing is real or solid in the way you think it is. There is no true relative reality; everything relative is empty of inherent meaning. Insanity comes from taking the relative world too serious; when we see the transparent nature of everything, we are likely to go crazy, but Monkeys think it’s funny. Push this too far and you get Heath Ledger’s Joker.
Monkey defines adaptation, resilience, and responsiveness. Physically, they are one of the most resilient signs and can bounce back quickly from the most serious illness. They are likely to flirt with death and danger and then make fun of everyone for getting morbid. They heal fast, and respond quickly to their environment. Monkeys can perceive the energetics of an environment with incredible precision, although they are not very intuitive and tend to make lots of stories about what they perceive, which may or may not be accurate.
Monkeys can be very nervous, anxious, and paranoid. They constantly perceive themselves in a situation of danger or threat, and their tendency towards fantasy can produce panic, worry, and fear. The active nature of Monkey Qi will create danger and threat where there is none, which is an unconscious result of the Monkey playfulness. They may create stories and danger just to have something to do, something to overcome, so that they can have cool stories to tell their friends.
The Monkey resourcefulness can turn cunning, crafty, manipulative. When depleted, they may use their intelligence to mess with social situations, turn friends against each other, gossip, tell stories, make drama. Monkeys can be very deceptive, and pretend/act in mischievous ways for fun. They can use their abilities to dominate others intellectually and their wit can turn ruthless. If Monkey perceives the game of the world as cruel, then Monkey Qi can even turn criminal like the Joker.
Finally, Monkeys can be very avoidant. Rather than deal with things head on, like the Tiger, they will dance around issues for a long time and never confront the tough decisions. Of course, I’m a Tiger, so that’s my bias. Confronting things head on can be disastrous, and the Tiger impulse can leap over their actual situation. Monkey Qi responsiveness, when not avoidant, knows when to duck, when to avoid confrontation, for it senses when the danger is coming.
Monkeys often lead incredibly interesting and exciting lives. Their impulse for fun and adventure often takes them to wild places. They always have interesting stories to tell and love to regale you about that time they almost died when there were in the place doing the thing.
Because of this impulse, Monkeys often dance between this world and the next. They have powerful desires that propel them towards materialism, and at the same time, their instinct tells them the world is a game. Monkeys fluctuate between materialism and austerity. If they can reconcile this dance, they are capable of profound wisdom. They reveal the cosmic joke, the Play of Consciousness.
Reconciling the Monkey dance, again, has nothing to do with putting Monkey in a cage. Monkeys need not punish themselves with harsh discipline because they are erratic. Monkey needs only to climb high into the tallest tree and see beyond to the enormous context of Space. Our Nature is something like Space, which hosts all duality equally. Harsh order and discipline is exalting one side over the other, which only creates more Chaos, which is what Monkey comes to show us.
This year has shown us many of these qualities, demonstrated at large in our culture, politics, and environment, which the media has blown out of proportion. Sometimes it appears Monkey paranoia and delusion has gotten the better of people. This tends to happen in Fire Years, especially in the case of the Fire-Metal conundrum, which continues with the Fire Rooster.
The Wisdom of the Year has been telling us all along that our plans for a stable, happy, bright, productive future are foolish. Everything we build is a castle in the sand. We need not fear the tide.
The world seems to be going in a dark direction and that’s because it is. This darkness however is not morbid. All kinds of unnatural structures are decaying and falling apart, and the more we cling to them and make stories of how we will keep building the tower higher and higher towards perfection, the more painful it feels when Fire Monkey comes along to kick over your sandcastle and laugh at you.
Rather than get angry and thrown gasoline on the Fire Rooster, which is another delicate transition which I will explore in the next blog, try relaxing. Open to the what the Fire Monkey has shown you. The Wisdom of the Monkey is not a threat and the sky is not falling. Destruction must occur for there to be new growth.
I was hoping that we would, “feel the Bern,” for the symbol of Bernie Sanders represented so much needed pruning, healthy destruction. But such is Time; our Freedom creates the auspice of what potential is available, and Trump was available. Trump represents destruction, which while necessary, will probably be unhealthy. In my next blog, I hope to offer some insight on how to make use of the next year, so that this destruction can offer us the transformation we need.
I hope you enjoyed this exploration of the Monkey, and I hope it has shed some light on the past year. Stay tuned for my New Year’s exploration of the Rooster!
The Lunar Year of 2015, the Wood Goat Year, was one of the best and most interesting times of my life. I learned a lot about the nature of the Goat in this strange adventure. Liu Ming’s advice for the Wood Goat was my guiding force throughout the year, from the last public New Year’s talk that he gave. Reflecting on it now has brought me great insight.
In the Wood Goat Year, I found myself in the great unknown; the Wood Horse Year compelled me to stomp on everything in my life, end the only loving relationship I’ve ever had, sell everything I owned, and move to the other side of the world in search of “spiritual freedom.”
I moved to Thailand to train with my teacher and to be part of an intentional spiritual permaculture community. A month after my move to Thailand, the Wood Goat shift reset everything, and the impulse and impatience of the Wood Horse flipped, reflecting to me the broad and healing lessons of the Goat. This shift put my life into a context I had never experienced before.
I found myself alone in community (a long story) and very aware of it, adrift in a foreign land, and very quickly, all my fantasies about being a great Yogi disappeared. The naïve vision of enlightenment I had perpetuated for years expanded to include so many things about life I thought I could ignore—career, finances, partnership…I assumed that if I followed the spiritual path that these things would just sort themselves out. Yeah right.
The Goat Year showed me that not only would they not sort themselves out, but that these “worldly” aspects of life were an essential part of my Path, which as it turns out is all inclusive. This shift coincided roughly with the beginning of my Saturn Return, a time for “growing up” that comes along every 27-31 years, and that is still kicking my ass.
After a lot of personal honesty, transparency, and self-reflection, I returned to the US resolved to find a Partner, establish a Career, and set myself up for the long-term, in-the-world, householder path to liberation in one lifetime. So here I am, slowly trying to establish said goals.
Astrology has been an immense help along the way, which I began studying in earnest during my travels (previously it had only been a hobby); it gave me a language to understand the cycles I found myself in. As I study, contemplate, and meditate, I realize more and more that our lives are these cycle, and that we have a lot less freedom than we think—karma is not individual; we flow along in ever widening rings of influence.
The Goat was a fantastic symbol for me during this transition, for the Goat represents many of the values that I came to value, which do not come naturally for Tigers. I hope to share these values with you in this blog.
Humans and Goats have been living happily together for a long, long time, at least 30,000 years. The Goat is very happily domesticated. The symbol of the Goat in Chinese Astrology is tied intimately to the Goat’s longstanding relationship with both nomads and agrarian humans.
The Goat is most notably a symbol of sacrifice, specifically to the Ancestors. Humans have been ritually sacrificing Goats for a long time, probably since before they were domesticated. This may sound grim for the Goats, and it probably is from their perspective, but as a symbol, this sacrifice is more about being honored than about being killed. I have seen many Goat related rituals, and believe it or not, they are very well taken care of, until their throat is slit.
There is a very important Star in Polestar Astrology called Yang Ren—the Goat Blade. In Tantric Iconography, Ḍākinīs are often depicted holding a hooked blade, used for draining a goat of blood very quickly—this is Yang Ren. It represents a place in our life where we are fated to make a big sacrifice or loss. The kind of experience you look back at and say—that was tough, but I would not be who I am today if I had not gone through that; such is the nature of the Goat.
The Goat spoken of in Chinese Astrology is the wild mountain goat, the big wooly ram, and the domesticated goat. Despite the masculine image of rams butting heads, the Goat is decidedly Yin, and represents the opposite of aggression. The Native Element of the Goat is Yin Earth, which it shares with its opposite the Ox. Four Animals share the Native Element of Earth, and each portray it in different ways.
The Goat’s relationship to Yin Earth demonstrates amazing ability of Goats to be surefooted in all terrains. If you google mountain goats, you will find some incredible images of goats scaling shear vertical cliffs. This is not a Yang skill. It must take incredible finesse and delicate balance to do this. This image portrays a central theme of Goat Qi—adaptability. Goats are masters of adapting to their environment, and they have happily adapted to wherever humans have taken them.
Yin Earth is all about balance, nourishment, support, solidity, groundedness, alliances, abundance, mothering, nurturing, and so on. The Ox represents these qualities in the continuity of Earth, for the Ox is the steadfast container and maintainer of Tradition. The Goat represents these same qualities in the refinement and reform of tradition, for the Goat is the Wisdom of Beauty, Justice, Symmetry, Order, and Harmony.
The Ox preserves and the Goat renews; it recognizes what has gotten old and stuffy and seeks to reinvigorate tradition. Unlike the Tiger, which seeks to break the boundaries of tradition and liberate people from order, the Goat seeks to refine order to higher degrees. The Goat wants tradition, but it wants tradition to serve the people, so it wants a bloodless and peaceful revolution. The Tiger, the Horse, the Dragon, the Monkey, the Dog—all will potentially shed blood, but the Goat will not. Don’t mistake the butting heads for aggression; I have lived with Goats, and this is an innocent and playful act—it’s more about being flustered.
In short, the Goat represents the virtues and difficulties of the dreaded word—politics. Goats are the idealists, the most astute and aware of social circumstances.
The Goat defines the herd animal and instinct. Having lived with Goats, watching them every day, they clearly have a hive-mind. They run, jump, eat, and play together, and as soon as one takes off in a new direction, they all bounce along after each other without hesitation. When a Goat is lost from the herd, it gets seriously distressed, but when it’s with the clan it is as happy as can be.
At a deeper level, the herd mentality of the Goat, and of Goat Qi, derives from a sense of inclusion that expresses an even deeper truth about the interconnected nature of everything. Goat Qi represents interbeing, interdependence, the intimate Web of Life, the symbiotic relationships that define Nature.
Of all the Twelve Characters, the Goat is said to be closest to this interbeing—they feel it on a deep, embodied level. Goats see the way everything, people and nature, is connected. And so, the impulse of the Goat is always for the herd, the greater good. They seek to sacrifice themselves for the benefit of others. The outer symbol of ritual sacrifice also communicates an inner one—the Goat is willing to give up its own needs so others can thrive. They are the most egalitarian of all the Signs.
Of all the Twelve Characters, the Goat is said to be the most artistic and aesthetic. The Goat feels connected to everything and wants everyone else to feel this way too. But this interconnected web is beyond words and cannot be described. So, the instinct of the Goat is to express and communicate what is beyond words—in other words, Art. Or better yet—Qi. The Goat wants to communicate the direct experience of Qi—the dynamic flowing way in which everything relates to everything else.
The Goat seeks to make the world beautiful, harmonious, balanced. Because Goats feel the deeper way in which everything is connected, they get flustered when the surface does not match the depths. They, therefore, seek order, to refine the outer expression to remind others of what lies beneath the surface.
Goat Art is aesthetic, classical. Tiger Art defies convention while the Goat defines it. They are therefore in a constant dialogue. Goat art expresses order, symmetry, tasteful arrangement, and elegance. Feng Shui, the art and auspice of placement, is a very Goat like endeavor.
The Goat is the natural outcome of the Horse. The Horse manifests, constructs, and brings the World in to being, and the Goat is sort of like the interior decorator (Feng Shui is not interior decorating, by the way). They take the raw, and sometimes messy situation of the Horse and make it orderly, expressing the harmonious relationships of Qi in space.
As we go through these key words, remember this basic impulse—to communicate and express our connection beyond words. This is the heart of Goat Qi. The Goat also represents sustainability and social welfare/responsibility—it represents the fact that we’re all responsible for each other—always have been, always will be. In Buddhism, this principal is called Sangha.
In general, Goat Qi is soft, peaceful, gentle, introverted—Yin. It is impossible not to smile when watching goats. They are freaking adorable and fundamentally goofy creatures, kind of like big puppies. Within three hours of birth, kid goats are jumping around, happily bouncing with amusing playfulness, looking for a cliff to climb, nibbling on everything.
The Goat Hour, from 1 pm to 3 pm, is basically time to “herd up,” as Ming called it. Since Goat Qi is associated with the herd, with social order, cooperation, compromising, harmony, justice, fairness, and so on, Goat Hour, then, is the time to work and be with others and cultivate friendship and teamwork. This is the time to get together and do things in groups and to refine and adjust the productivity of Horse Hour. Once we create something, we must step back and adjust our creation to accord with social context and welfare. Building a table is useless if we do not sit down to eat, and what good is eating alone if your friends are hungry? Goat Hour is also the time for art and aesthetics. It is a time to paint, write, sing, or just stare out into the landscape and contemplate your humanity. If you were born during this time of the day, you are also part Goat.
So, the first Key Terms are easy-going, sweet, gentle, agreeable. Goats have a naturally relaxed slightly silly/goofy disposition. Earth Characters by nature, especially Yin Earth, are what we refer to as “chill.” Yin Earth is stable, slow, grounded. Goat Characters don’t get worked up easily and are happy to go with the flow, follow the group. Goats tend to be ordinary nice/kind people. Everyone can be a nice person, of course, and the Goat symbolizes this quality in all of us. By respecting and acknowledging other people and their needs, by recognizing we are part of a herd, we naturally become kind, generous, nice—self-centeredness is not part of Goat Qi.
The depleted version of this, however, is intolerance and crankiness. When Goats find themselves alone, isolated, or if they’re raised in a poor community environment where their instincts are stunted, Goats tend to be fussy, cranky, moody, and even intolerant of others. At their best, the political vision of the Goat is all inclusive, and the flipside of this is well-known the world over—we tolerate our in-group and hate the rest. The possibility for political unrest is most strongly demonstrated in the Monkey/Tiger dynamic, but this begins in the Goat with the desire to create order, which in the cycle of time turns almost immediately into its opposite.
Well know comedian Louis CK, a Fire Goat, is the perfect example of Goat crankiness and tolerance. His comedy communicates the positive and negative qualities of Goat Qi very well. He is an astute social critic, and despite his crudeness, his view is very inclusive—he excepts and celebrates everyone and at the same time makes jokes about how much he hates people. Furthermore, his show, Louie, especially in its last few seasons, was extremely artistic and poignant.
So, then, the next important Key Word is aesthetic/artistic—both visual and musical. Not all goats are necessarily great artists and musicians, but this instinct to make the world beautiful and to express the ineffable must come out in some form. For some Goats, it may come out in the way they dress—always matching, trendy. In others, it may express through poetry or playing guitar. For others, it may be in their career as a graphic designer. And of course, Goats make natural painters, artists in the classical sense. Michelangelo, Mark Twain—both Goats.
The gentle demeanor of Goat Qi goes hand with another very important quality—cooperation. Goats seek cooperation and compromise on all levels and generally hate confrontation, like the Rabbit. Goats want everyone to get along; they are peacemakers who offer up solutions and treaties. They will often compromise their own needs to make others happy, which depletes them in the long run.
If they keep compromising and cooperating to make others happy, Goats will eventually turn cranky and get unbelievable stubborn, hence the butting heads. Goats will dig into their position and compromise can turn to entrenched argumentation. Goats must commit to self-care and speak up about needs. Otherwise, they will be nice, nice, nice and then explode.
The Goat, who naturally seeks communication and understanding, can turn completely flustered and uncommunicative. Normally, they are quite eloquent, but when depleted, they just start butting heads and can hardly get out coherent thoughts/sentences. They fear confrontation, and so they tend to let things build until things turn to head butting and stubbornness.
On the flipside, Goats are the masters of persuasion and charm. Goat Qi can eloquently and poetically express grand principals like harmony and justice—rhetoric, political and personal, is a Goat affair. Their natural insight into social dynamics and structure offers them a social capacity unknown to many signs. They can read a group and know how to inspire and work up a crowd by invoking universal human principles. Goats tend to be very quiet, introverted, but are prone to make dramatic speeches when provoked.
The calm, quiet, easy going nature of Goat Qi can also turn impatient. Goats tend to be fussy perfectionists. They want everything to go just right. So, they may try to engineer their life, relationships, situations. Roosters and Rats tend to fuss over what, to the rest of us, are unimportant details, but the Goat fusses over the whole situation. If a Goat throws a dinner party, they don’t mind so much about how the table is arranged, but they will be certain to sit you next to someone who will change your life. They may work very hard to create the right social environment for magic, and if it falls apart they may obsess over what went wrong, while the Rooster is still making sure the silverware is in the right place.
Goats are part of the “social trine” of the Chinese Zodiac, along with Pigs and Rabbits. The social aspect of the Goat is all about generosity, encouragement, and social support. Goats need a herd; they need friends, family; without support they wither, get depressed, and feel hopeless, anxious, fearful. Alone, they worry and fret. Around others, they thrive and are the most supportive, encouraging, and generous people. Goats don’t need a big herd per se, small family, a few close friends is fine, but they can also get along in big groups, as longs as that group represents “clan/tribe” for them. Alone, they will naturally seek to create tribe. They make naturally family people, parents, grandparents, friends, and so on. Goats easily take on social support roles, even if it only for a select few.
Goats have a deep spiritual capacity to recognize relationship and interconnectedness. All the great spiritual traditions teach that we’re all connected, that everything is everything, and so on—you’ve probably heard it all before. This realization that we’re all One is a Goat realization, so it is easier for Goat Characters to see this. Compassion and generosity, therefore, come naturally to them. This is not the case for all signs—Tigers, Snakes, Dragons all need education in this regard, for their independent nature can disregard and struggle with the need to connect with other humans.
2015, the Wood Goat Year, showed us many of these Goat themes. Political awareness and social welfare were high, and across the globe people began to speak up for the marginalized, underprivileged, minorities, and so on. This began an important trend which exploded a bit in this Monkey Year (next blog)—as a society, especially in the millennial generation, we will not stand for bigotry, intolerance, sexism, patriarchy, inequality, and oppression any more, dammit.
The Goat Year set this in motion. It brought forward all the ways in which our cultures, especially in the USA, are divided. The transition from Goat to Monkey is delicate and sort of went haywire due to the elemental nature of Wood going to Fire. I’ll say more about this in the next blog on the Monkey.
Personally, the Goat year was very healing for me in many ways. Ming’s advice for Tigers was essentially to heal, which the gentle and supportive nature of Goat Qi encourages. All these Goat qualities of relationship, social support, and service all came forward in my life. The Wood Goat was a reset button for me. I re-valued my life, and started all over again.
After my year living abroad, I found myself back in the States, somehow practicing Chinese Astrology, which I never expected. If you had told me ten years ago that I would end up being a Chinese Astrologer, I would have laughed. I also made the decision to pursue Chinese Medicine, which brought me here to Portland and started a whole new chapter in my life.
Looking back, I am very grateful for the Goat Year. As a Tiger, I admire the qualities of the Goat and the rest of the Social Trine. In the next blog, I will review the past year and explore my opposite—the Monkey! It has been a hell of a year…stay tuned.
We’ve made it to number eight of twelve as Snake Qi turns to Horse. Before we move on, however, I think we need to back up and look again, briefly, at the idea of Character. For it is too easy to get simplistic studying these primary symbols.
The Character of our Year is fundamental in our Qi Display, so these twelve symbols are important to study and understand, especially at an energetic level. We want to understand the impulse that lies at the base of these patterns, and I hope that I have been able to communicate this so far. The impulse of each Character is beyond words. These impulses generate identifiable patterns. But we must ask—patterns of what?
Time. Each Qi Character communicates a felt pattern in time; in Astrology, Qi is time. Time/Qi is movement itself, rhythm, not a thing moving—just movement, and we only know movement because of duration. This duration is a spectrum we call light. Qi can be called light/energy, visible because it moves at different frequencies.
Time flows in a circle. This circle is very lopsided; the Twelve-Animal cycle of Time is like a whirlwind, a tornado. At some parts, it spins fast; at some, it spins slow; some parts are big messy gusts of wind, and in some parts, wind funnels into a point, and so.
We are a swirling together of many patterns of wind/movement; the pattern of the Year, Month, Day, and Hour are primary among many others. The Qi movement of the Year is the deepest flow of Time relative to Earth, technically related to the 12-year Jupiter cycle, the largest object in the Solar System besides the Sun, and it therefore represents the deepest part of our experience. The impression made at the time of birth, when we first breathe in the Qi/ “wind” of the universe outside the womb, imprints a deep, deep pattern on us that we become and express our entire life. That moment is an incredible shock, which is probably why we cry, and it leaves a lasting impression.
The Qi of the Year is the deepest, and the Qi of the hour is the most “up front.” The Hour imprints a surface expression, which then dances with the deeper expression of the Year. These two together are primary. The Month and Day also imprint on us, but these patterns have more of an effect on our constitution and life cycles in relation to the seasons.
We must remember that we are complex. The image of the Year is basic, simple, and profound. As I write these blogs and you consider your Character, remember that these images are fundamental and only a doorway into the complexity of your Astrological makeup. I encourage people to identify with the Year, but you have Four Pillars, and Solar/Lunar Indictors, and a Fate Chart, etc. The wisdom of the Year encourages us to find out what we have in common with others rather than on what makes us a unique snowflake.
So, we move now into the Pattern of Horse Qi, part of my own Character, and it is appropriate that the Horse is an ancient symbol of the Wind, Prana/Vayu, Qi, Lung (in Tibetan). In Tantra and East/Central Asian Shamanism, the image if the “Wind Horse,” the Lungta, is an allegory for the Human Spirit of Awakening.
The symbol of the Horse is an ancient and powerful Shamanic symbol central to the cultures of Mongolia, China, and Tibet. To understand the Symbol of the Horse, we must understand the role of the Horse in these ancient cultures as a symbol of freedom and expansion. The Horse, in many ways, shaped their history, mostly due to warfare.
The Horse spoken of in Chinese Mythology is the Mongolian rather than the Arabian Horse, which any equestrian person will tell you are very different kinds of horses. The Chinese attempted to train the Mongolian horse to work for a long time, but no amount of breeding and whipping coerced them to plow straight furrows, for they had no attention span and were wild in nature. Eventually, the Chinese would discover the ox/water-buffalo from the south, which revolutionized agriculture. But what of the horse?
Mongolians and the famous Genghis Khan would bring down the horse as an instrument of war. The Mongolian Horse and the bow and arrow allowed Genghis and his grandson Kublai to dominate Asia. When the Chinese first saw Mongolians riding horses into battle, arrows and swords flying, they discovered the true power of the horse, which had been abandoned in China as a plow animal. The first depictions of the Horse were a lot like the Dragon and many of these elements would make their way into the depiction of the Dragon, for the Horse road so fast it appeared to be flying.
They let the reigns down, put on a war saddle, and the Horse came to life. With just a little direction, rather than strict control, the Mongolian Horse became the most productive tool in the Chinese military and aided in the great expansion of the Tang Dynasty. Emperors and Generals bred them successfully for war throughout Chinese history, and they were always associated with martial arts and warriorship.
The image of the War Horse represents the Horse’s native element—Yang Fire. The Fire Horse is an explosion of force, a wild stallion, uncontrollable yet capable of immense power and control if directed with skill. Like fire, the Horse represents a powerful tool which can be either creative or destructive, depending on use.
The true impulse of the Horse is to run free, wild, explode out, which is why Horses and Tigers get along, for the Tiger represents a similar explosion of force. The Tiger, Yang Wood, is an immature, childlike impulse, while the Horse, Yang Fire, is the teenage, adolescent, angsty, rebellion, leaping over boundaries and running wild. Each elemental version of the Horse, then, represents a relationship to this impulse.
The impulse of Yang Fire is to energize, catalyze, activate, stimulate, transform, overpower/overcome, surprise, rebel, destroy, and excite. All Horse Characters have this lying in their nature. I was born on a Metal Horse Day, so this is part of my Character, albeit not as potently as the Year/Hour. Hopefully, then I will be able to share some personal insight into the nature of the Horse, which I must say is an important part of me.
The Metal Horse, of which I am in part, and of whom I know many (1990), the “Horse in the Stall,” has a fundamental difficulty with this explosive nature—Fire “melts” Metal, leading to a kind of self-conflict and doubt. The Metal Horse wrestles between freedom and control, but their Metal exteriors makes them capable of control and self-discipline in a way the Fire Horse is not.
The Fire Horse is a pure wild stallion, and traditionally in China they would have been sent with Fire Tigers to the military as cannon fodder. On the opposite end of the spectrum the Water Horse, the least “horsey” Horse, is more like a Clydesdale, or the Budweiser Horse, the explosion extinguished, happy to be trained and trot around.
The symbol of the Horse has a lot to do with the animal itself. Horses are big, physical, all muscle and tendons. The Mongolian horse has a huge ass and hind legs which makes them powerful runners and jumpers. This physicality represents a kind of embodiment, so Horse Qi is by nature very embodied—the impulse of the Horse is to feel, be, and do immediately, rather than think.
Horse’s opposite, the Rat, has the opposite impulse—Rat Qi tends to think and scheme, while the Horse represents what Ch’an Buddhism calls “no-mind.” No-mind represents embodied action without thinking and planning. Horse Qi is “doing,” but without great pre-meditation, like a Ch’an Monk sweeping the courtyard or raking stones in the garden. Horse Qi lends itself to the non-conceptual state.
Horse Qi is the Wisdom of Manifestation. If the Rat represents everything splintered into pieces, needing to be organized and put back together, the Horse represents the final manifestation of this in the cycle of Time. Everything manifesting and functioning efficiently. Horse is D.I.Y. and manufacturing—the strength to work and put things together. The Horse is all about working and doing, like the Ox, but they are the Yang version—muscle, speed, and power, and they can burn out, while Oxen can slowly plow forever.
Horse Qi is also the outcome of the Snake. If Snake represents a kind of cynical, piercing emptiness, capable of disembodied depression, the flipside of this, Big Yin turning to Yang, is a kind of straightforward, logical, no-nonsense practicality. The Snake questions whether the world even exists, and the Horse just gets to work. Emptiness roaring back to form. Why think about emptiness when there is stuff to do?
The Horse represents an “edgy” balance, part wild, part trained, and this gives the Horse a certain regal dignity; they allow us to use their strength, but if they want they can leap the fence and take off. The Horse’s strong, independent nature, when set to orderly tasks, is extraordinarily successful. For the Horse, stuff is to do things with, and they tend not to need anything unless it represents “work,” even if that work is spiritual.
Horse Hour, from 11 am to 1 pm, or High Noon, is the full height of the Sun. It is the time of day when we are at our peak and most productive. It is the time for work, labor, getting stuff done. It is Yang Fire, the bright, burning heat of Summer, when light is the most active, warming, moving, catalyzing. If you were born between 11 am and 1 pm then you should also consider yourself part Horse.
So, the first Key Word for the Horse is social, gregarious yet independent. Horses in the wild are social animals, running in packs. Having a social life, seeking social interaction and engagement, is very important to the Horse Character. Like the Goat, the herd instinct is part of the Horse, but the social nature of the Horse is much different. Despite the herd mentality, Horses seek to be independent, and so the social impulse is often somewhat competitive. Horses are showman, like Clydesdales. They want to socialize, but they also want to run free and impress everyone with their speed and strength. They tend to be gregarious, sociable, fond of parties and having fun. They can, of course, be introverted, but the direction of Yang Fire is outward moving. Horse can enjoy solitude, but their inward expression moves out.
At their best, Horses tend to be blessed with a “sunny” disposition. They can be bright, open, cheerful, optimistic. Yang Fire tends to look on the bright side of life. The Horse disposition tends toward innocence, which often attracts people to them. Their sunny optimism lends naturally towards humor. Horses are often jokesters; funny is key to the Horse mentality; such is the term “horsing around.” All the Horses I know like to play and horse around. They’re natural comedians.
On the flipside, the independence and social qualities of the Horse can turn anti-social, even criminal and violent. At their best, Horses are not loners, but the nature of Yang Fire is hot-tempered, angry, rebellious. Their anger can lead to outbursts, which are often thoughtless. The tendency to do/act without thinking can have consequences. The bucking bronco can stamp on people, situations, relationships, and so on. If their attempts at sociability don’t go their way, they can ride off into the sunset, never to be seen again.
In general, the independent, wild quality of the Horse should/can never be held in. Like the Dragon and Tiger, any attempt to box in or control a Horse will be met with disaster. If restrained, they become bitter and exhibit destructive behavior. Horses can be “tamed,” but inside, their nature is wild. Self-discipline for Horses is like harnessing a wild animal. The Horse nature is fast; they do and act quickly without hesitation.
With training and proper direction, Horse Qi can be put to work and is associated with strength and industry. Horses have an immense capacity to get shit done, to be the “work horse,” as we say. Horse Qi represents the all-American virtue of productivity—just get me back to work. For many Horses, life is about work, and without something to do, they get restless, bored, and feel useless. Horse restlessness can be profound; they need to direct themselves to tasks, projects, whether that is learning, reading, building, exercising, organizing, etc.
Horse Qi represents craft and trade work, D.I.Y, practical and functional art. Tiger or Monkey may represent abstract art, but Horse art you can sit in, or do something with, like pottery, the dying virtue of the craft-guilds. Ming used to jokingly refer to Horses being kind of like lumberjacks/carpenters/handy-men. Home Depot could be called “Horse Depot.” Horses express themselves through creating, manifesting. If they do not create, they stagnate. Of course, not all Horses are handy-men (handy-people?), but they all express some fundamental need to manifest/create.
On a deeper level, this work mentality comes from embodiment, vitality, and physicality. Horses need to move and use their bodies. They need to run, hike, workout, anything to get moving, or else they get restless. Horses by nature are also very “outdoorsy,” for this physicality cannot stay indoors too long. Horses yearn for the great outdoors and open plains and need to connect with the eternal blue sky.
On an even deeper level, this embodiment represents the Horses profound capacity to feel. Despite their strong exteriors, Horses are very emotional, but they tend to express emotion more through doing rather than saying. Ming once joked of “Horse love,” which was a Dad letting his Son use his tools. The Horse may be affectionate, but they often show rather than tell and not always through touchy-feely means. Horse Qi may not be all hugs, and if a Horse Dad makes his Son a swing-set, this is pure love, because he made it for him.
The thoughtless, active, and embodied quality of the Horse can be sort of accident-prone. Horses can have a carelessness that tends to “not notice.” Physically, this can lead to self-injury, knocking things over, spilling coffee on your lap, falling off your bike, and so on. Mentally/emotionally, Horse may have difficulty noticing and acknowledging other people’s feelings, and they may say and act carelessly, and stomp all over others.
The reverse of being accident prone is cleverness. Horse Qi represents what is now called “MacGyver” ingenuity—the ability to problem solve in a kind of practical way, throwing a bunch of stuff together into makeshift solutions. They can take something broken and find ten ways to put it back together. Or not. Horses can also be very clumsy.
This ingenuity also express the virtue of thoughtlessness, which is the ability to work efficiently through embodied skill. All the “Zen and the Art of…” books represent Horse Qi. You practice and practice and practice archery, each time getting in your own way because you keep thinking. And the thousandth time, you relax and release the arrow without effort. Watching master craftspeople, chefs, dancers, anyone who embodies a skill, is a Horse Qi ballet.
This cleverness also lends itself to a kind of eloquence and talkativeness—think Mr. Ed. "A horse is a horse, of course, of course, and no one can talk to a horse, of course." Horses make great orators and speakers, or they just love to chat. Horse Qi can put their cleverness and ingenuity to work anywhere, including speech, and they love to impress people with this clever eloquence. This eloquence comes from a kind of direct honesty. Horses are honest because they don’t overthink. And so, their rhetoric can be very profound; they just say what others feel. This often creates a kind of magnetism. Horses are attractive people. Their strength, cleverness, and ability are what most people seek yet never find, for Horse Qi is full manifestation without complication.
This capacity can lead to arrogance and stubbornness, but horses are arrogant without realizing it. Horse stubbornness is a kind of know-it-all showoff bravado, but it does not show off because it thinks it is better than people—it just loves showing off. They need to do something with all their strength.
Horses have a hard time not giving people advice, telling people how to do things—they know best. Horse stubbornness is demonstrated in the old cliché of men not wanting to stop and ask for directions or call a repairman (repair person? Geez, how gendered is our language?).
The Horse personality is consistent and simple. Like the Ox, they tend to remain constant in their thoughts, actions, lifestyle—they’re not prone to major changes in terms of personality. You may not see a Horse for ten years and no matter how much they have changed, they seem like the same old person. They may be wild, adventurous, world traveling people, but nonetheless, they seem consistent.
Some Characters, like the Snake, are a mystery. The Horse, being the outcome of Snake, is no mystery. What you see is what you get. Horse Qi is not about plumbing the depths. Which is not to say they’re not deep. The Horse Character does not play games; they do not mislead, misdirect, or manipulate; they just are and do. All that would require too much thinking.
The Horse symbol is one of power, majesty, freedom. The Lungta, the Wind Horse, symbolizes the human spirit of adventure but also aggression. The Horse is raw, dynamic power and strength, pure vitality; it rides hard and can burn out in a blaze of glory, dying with honor on the battlefield. The Horse characterizes the wild shamanic nomads of Central Asia, Mongolia, Tibet, and Northern/Western China. It is the wide-open expanse of the great plains and eternal blue sky. Freedom is the impulse of the Horse, dancing with the edge of restrain.
Horse Qi is a turning point in the Zodiac. From here, the Horse turns to Goat and the cycle begins to resolve itself. The rest of the Zodiac represents a kind of completion, a return to source. I hope you enjoyed this exposition of the Horse.
In the last Blog, I tried to communicate the ineffable nature of the Dragon, which may have been confusing, and I’m afraid the Snake may be worse. The Dragon may be ineffable due to its unlimited potential, but it is the Yang version of potential, meaning it is the result of full manifestation, EXTREME YANG, and is therefore easier for us to understand in this Yang culture. As a culture, we get “doing,” but “being,” on the other hand, is a mystery. The Snake represents this Mystery—the Yin to the Dragon’s Yang.
Yin is manifestation, the condensation of everything into apparent form, which turns into Yang, the expression of form through movement and dynamism. As Yin expresses into Yang, it opens, expands, and rises to Heaven, becoming more and more transparent, heading back towards the un-manifest. Dragon Qi symbolizes the height of this expression and movement—all of manifestation integrated, directed, and flying free, Yin going all the way to Extreme Yang.
Yin-Yang Theory teaches that Yin and Yang turn into one another and that Extreme Yang gives way and turns into Extreme Yin, which is symbolized in the Chinese Zodiac by the Snake. The Snake is EXTREME YIN, the flipside of the Dragon. In the Dragon, the entire Zodiac is manifest and expressing. In the Snake, the entire Zodiac is in seed/potential form having been expressed fully and then having disappeared, leaving behind a complete, open, and transparent vacuity. Snake is the Emptiness, Potential, and Openness that hosts all Form. Snake Qi is the empty spoke in the center of the turning Wheel.
Pig Qi, which is where we began our exploration of the Zodiac, while similar, is Snake’s opposite. Pig Qi expresses Yin Water, the dissolution of everything at the end of the cycle. Snake is not a dissolution, for dissolution is a gradual process. Snake is not gradual. Snake is the sudden and extreme flip from Yang to Yin, sort of like the popping of a bubble, or a Snake striking its prey. Dragon Qi expands until…pop! This sudden flip from everything to nothing is said to represent Yin Fire, the native element of the Snake.
Even in the appearance of complete emptiness, total vacuity, there is Yang, a spark, an ember, a warmth pulsating, undulating in the Void. For all Emptiness is pregnant with unlimited potential. Emptiness is said to contain all potential. Every possibility is inherent in Emptiness; the entire universe resides in and emerges from space. In Tantra, Space is called the Inexhaustible Treasury. Everything comes from Space, yet Space is never altered, stained, harmed, or destroyed. It is Indestructible— “Vajra,” immaculate and pristine. Of all the Twelve Animals, Snake is said to be closest to this pristine, open, spacious quality of life. Snake, Yin Fire, is the warmth, the radiant nature of Life present in the Void.
Yin Fire also represents the nature of Snake Hour, from 9 am to 11 am—the time of day after the Sun has appeared and begins to slowly warm the Earth. Snake Hour is bright and transparent; it is the gap between the great manifestation of Sunrise (the Dragon) and the productivity of Midday (the Horse). Snake Hour is said to be a time of revelation, transparency, and reflection, where we process and gather ourselves before being productive. If you were born during this time of day, then you are part Snake.
Yin Fire is the slow smoldering transformation of a simmering fire, like a crock-pot as opposed to a BBQ. It is the catalytic force of alchemy and cooking—stimulating, energizing, yet still, pulsating, warming, consuming, mesmerizing; it is internal rather than external vigor. The Snake is a symbol of the Heart, the Shen, the still, warm beating center of things, awake and alive, yet passive/yin, for the Heart beats without effort.
The symbol of the Snake is immensely old and traces itself back to China’s “Shamanic” roots. The Snake symbol is universal, and its expression is similar across cultures. Unlike some cultures, the Chinese conception of the Snake is not evil or sinister—it is Yin. It represents the unknown/unknowable world, the subterranean, the submerged, the unconscious.
There is no “evil,” in the Chinese view of Life, but Yin does have a dark side, and the Snake can be a symbol of darkness. This darkness, however, is the basis for transformation. We cannot truly transform unless we consider all our dark places; we must turn up all the rocks and look at the creepy crawlies beneath the surface. Snake is what lies beneath the surface.
In this sense, the Snake is like the Rabbit, but taken to another level. The Rabbit is submerged in the unconscious subterranean world, but the Snake is that world; it sees through it unattached, where the Rabbit innocence is potentially lost in the static of the ethers. Snake Qi sees through the nature of appearances, and so Snake Characters are said to lead lives that are uniquely self-reflective and insightful. It is in the Character of Snake to reflect, to mirror, to question, and to peak behind the curtains.
The impulse of Snake Qi, Big Yin, is sinking, gathering, descending, internalizing, seeking stillness, silence. Like Snakes in the wild, Snake Qi seeks to be hidden, unseen, to blend in with the environment. Snake people, therefore, have a natural inclination to “disappear,” to hide, to renounce, to recede from the world by blending in with the surroundings. A Snake might look like a vine on the tree, so it is there, present in the world, but it is not the vine, not what it appears to be.
Snake Qi is by nature not what it appears to be; it is unknowable and ineffable. Big Yin defies all labels and definitions. Emptiness, by “definition,” is beyond conceptual elaboration, as the Buddhists say. As I mentioned in the last Blog, the Snake represents the inner open capacity at the heart of the Zodiac to become any of the other 11 Characters without being defined by them, while the Dragon actually is all 11 Characters embodied.
This unknowable quality is said to be the source of an unmatched charm. Snakes have the capacity to become anything and anybody without being attached, for they represent all potential. They have all the Capacity of all 11 Characters available, like the Dragon, but they are not defined by nor do they take pride in what they display. They are mystery even to themselves.
Their instinct is to hide, but they can hide in a crowded room, because they are inwardly unknowable. You can “know” a Snake for years and still not know who they are. And this is not deceptive, because they aren’t anybody (no one is really), and this is their power.
Snakes are a mystery, to themselves and to other people. They cannot be known. Remember this as I get into the Key Words. We may use words to describe Snake Qi, but Snakes are not these words. The Snake symbolizes the reality that no one is what they think they are, nor are we how others perceive us. We are all a mystery. You can never really know another person—not really. We are all symbols to each other.
In China, the Snake is the Sorcerer Philosopher and symbolizes the process of Alchemy and inner transformation, for the Snake sheds its skin. It is always in the process of becoming something else. They also represent what Liu Ming called “striking force,” like Muhammad Ali (a Snake), an aspect of the Fire Element, the ability to remain perfectly still and then strike, act, seemingly out of nowhere like a snake paralyzing its prey.
Social-political pundit John Oliver, a Fire Snake, the Natural Snake, is a great example of Snake Qi. On camera, he is charming and yet venomous; his ability to see through appearances to the reality of situations and then strike with deadly force is mesmerizing. Yet, if you watch interviews with him outside of his show, he appears to be a completely different person. He claims not to be a journalist, not to have political motivations; he completely embodies his role and is unattached; he is not what he appears to be, which is not to say he is deceptive. On camera, he becomes a role and then sheds his skin. The Snake succeeds when they have fooled everybody into thinking they’re a certain way yet secretly they remain unattached and beyond everything.
Bernie Sanders, a Metal Snake, is another great example of Snake Qi with his vision, wisdom, insight, and ability to see through social structure to the heart of things. He, too, displays the striking force, delivering political statements so penetrating and direct that he inspires millions. He is fully in the world yet not “of it.” He cares deeply but is unattached, which is why I think he has maintained his unrelenting integrity for so many years without losing heart.
The Key Terms for the Snake are, again, how they appear, but not actually how they are. You may know or be a Snake and not identify with these labels, and that’s fine. No person is truly their Character; it is merely a pattern, a tendency of our Qi to display. Snake Qi is symbolic of the idea that we can all transcend our limitations through detachment.
The first Key Term, then, is deeply reflective. In many ways, it is not easy to be a Snake. Snakes are natural mystics in a non-mystic world. Snake Qi can be called penetrating insight. Without trying, Snakes have the tendency to see through things, through the nature of appearance to essential qualities. Since Snake Qi is naturally open and empty, it is natural for Snakes to reflect on life and on their situation, for their Qi display is in direct contrast with what society tells us. With training, this can lead to insight. But if Snakes are told from an early age that the world is solid, that people are real, that situations are concrete, and that they must “be somebody,” then they will fake it and pretend, while internally they may experience deep depression, resentment, and even fear.
As it turns out, Reality can be frightening to glimpse. Imagine finding out that up and down are meaningless—this is called vertigo. My teacher calls this the “round world,” as opposed to the “square world.” In the round world, i.e. in Reality, we don’t have a leg to stand on; all concepts are relative, and nothing has any inherent meaning. If you do not grasp at solidity, then this realization liberates you, and emptiness becomes the source of much giggling. If you grasp, emptiness inspires terror, nihilism, and possibly suicidal tendencies. Snakes may feel that the world is meaningless, that everyone is a fake, that everything is make believe non-sense. And they may feel crazy because they see this and no one else does.
Depleted, Snake Qi can turn to paranoia. If they are not taught to trust their insight, their vision into what lies beneath the surface, they can get into trouble. Seeing signs, hearing voices—all very Snakey, like Rabbit Qi in this sense. The truth is that there are voices—the universe is full of psychic static, and people project their thoughts and emotions all over the place with little discretion. While Rabbits tend to feel the emotional, energetic, embodied quality of this static, Snakes tend to see into the more “psychic” mental dimension of things.
Snake Qi is transparent and clear, and Snakes are probably the most distant from the rich direct experience of the senses, embodied in Snake’s opposite, the Pig. Snakes can easily be disembodied and live in a flat mental world, which can turn to nihilism. They may mistrust the display of the world. On the other hand, this transparency offers insight.
If Snakes go with their insight, they become wise. The Snake is synonymous with wisdom. On the surface, this wisdom comes from a natural observant quality, which comes from the Snakes impulse to lie still, wait, and watch. Snakes tend to observe and attend very closely to details, which lends to profound intelligence. On a deeper level, Snake wisdom is both visionary and philosophical. In Buddhism, wisdom is identical to śūnyatā, emptiness; they are synonymous. Emptiness is another blog, but at the deepest level, Snake Qi represents this side of reality.
Snakes can be too smart for their own good, capable of immense calculation and planning. Of course, everyone can be intelligent, but Snake intelligence encapsulates the concept of genius. This kind of intelligence often goes hand and hand with depression. Snakes have the opposite of “ignorance is bliss.” Rather, Snake intelligence tends to obsess about how messed up the world is and about messed up they are themselves, leading to cynicism/skepticism, and very often depression. This depression does not need a cause, for Snake Qi is by nature depressed, sinking, and dark, energetically speaking. So, Snakes can appear moody and brooding.
The Snake tendency towards depression can turn to self-loathing, however, especially if their intelligence is not put to more creative outlets. Intelligence can easily turn to hatred either at the world or at themselves. When Snakes are not successful, when they do not find an outlet for their vision, they can turn bitter and negative, criticizing everything and everyone, picking apart their own faults as well.
Because of their visionary and creative qualities, Snakes make natural artists. Snakes want to leave the world behind. They want to follow their vision to the end and lose themselves beyond the horizon. They want to disappear. Snake Qi is a vision quest, a spirit journey into the unknown, the underworld. In their imagination, Snakes see through this world to others and realms beyond. They may even have tangible visions in their waking life.
So, Snakes can be a bit weird, although others may never know, for Snakes are the best at hiding. Snakes must find a way to express this weirdness, especially through art/creativity. The challenge for the Snake is to go out into the beyond and come back. They must bring their vision back to the ordinary world and share it with others. Snakes are often inventive innovators, and Snake years often produce breakthroughs in society. Without art, the Snake has no way of communicating Reality as they experience it, whether through painting or poetry or film, Snakes communicate the dreamlike nature of reality, such as Pablo Picasso or Edgar Allen Poe (both Snakes).
Snakes tend to be solitary and reclusive. All the Snakes I know, either by year or hour, tend to seek and enjoy time alone (of course everyone can), and some even dream of being hermits. Snakes take great pleasure when no one knows where they are or what they’re up to. Furthermore, they tend to be rather evasive, which is both positive and negative. The Snake tendency towards evasiveness can be a skill, knowing when to duck, avoid, and do nothing. To others, this evasive quality can appear distant, aloof, avoidant, and secretive. You’re never quite sure about them—think Snape from Harry Potter. Snake Qi is also very discrete, which again can appear both positive and negative.
Spiritually, it is a very good idea to be discrete, humble; showing off and making a big flap about yourself can create many challenges. Snakes tend towards the opposite; they tend to be quiet, never revealing their real experience to anyone, even when that experience is profound. Being discrete is the Snake form of camouflage, hiding in plain sight.
Since Snake Qi is Big Yin, and because its impulse is to disappear towards stillness and silence, Snakes are naturally calm, patient, and slow in their display. Chill is the word. Snake Qi is the opposite of scattered, and in its depleted state it can turn to laziness and lethargy. But in general, Snakes are relaxed and calm people; they have a big open capacity to host other people’s craziness. This calm nature can be called meditative. And many Snakes I know have a natural inclination towards meditation as an expression of their Qi, which also has an immense capacity for trance.
The Yin Fire nature of the Snake is also hypnotizing and trance inducing. Think Snake charmers. Snakes have an alluring charm because of their mysteriousness. People want to figure them out, and Snakes love this, because they love avoiding and evading people’s attempts to figure them out, to pin them down.
Snakes can play with this, and so they have a certain social capacity. They make great actors and can become anyone, like method acting. They can use this capacity for social advantage, which we call “Yin Power.” Yin Power is essentially manipulation, which is not inherently bad, although it can be used that way. It can be used for good too; like many Snake qualities, manipulation evades judgment…we’re just not sure about it.
Ming once told a story of a friend who learned to speak Chinese by simply becoming the teacher, imitating his mannerisms, dress, body language, and so on. Monkeys have this capacity too. Rather than learn the language, this person just became someone who already knew it—very Snakey.
Snakes can embody a social role for years, at work for example, even if it is not who they really are. They can work for years as a salesperson, and then one day become a carpenter. This changeability may sound bad, but not for Snakes necessarily, for they are unattached. Snakes can love and be fascinated by material things, and then sell everything they own without a second thought. Snake Qi loves to shed its skin, to change appearances, to transform, to drop attachments and move on. In the Chinese Tradition, the Snake, like the Rabbit, is associated with the practice of Inner Alchemy, refining our experience backward to Source.
The ability to become anything, take on any form, when depleted, can turn helpless. Depleted, Snakes can feel empty, without inner and outer resources, unable to manifest things in the world. The tendency to not take the “real world” seriously, can appear to others as lack of ambition, but Snakes don’t really have ordinary worldly ambition; their ambitions in life tend to reflect a deeper impulse, which is most often just to understand this strange world of appearances, this ephemeral dance we’re all born into; Snakes are perplexed as to why everyone takes the life game so seriously.
I mean why bother? Why bother constructing wealth and systems of value when everything falls apart? Of course, if a Fire Snake chooses to be successful, they can outdo everyone and make us all look like fools, but they would never believe in what they’re doing.
Hopefully this does not sound too negative. But negativity must be available in the cycle of time. We must remember that in the Chinese View, there is no real negativity/evil, but there is Yin. And all Yin Characters represent the necessity of darkness in the cycle of time. Darkness, depression, destruction, and so on, must be available in Time, otherwise everything would grind to a halt. Of course, not all Snakes are depressed, but they do represent that tendency.
The Snake symbol is rich and deep. In the collective imagination, Snakes conjure up primal, primordial, shamanic images, like Ouroboros, the Serpent eating its own tail. If you want to understand Snake Qi, simply look to these images, for they all speak the wisdom of the Snake.
I hope you enjoyed and were thoroughly confused by this exposition of Snake Qi! Stay tuned as Snake turns to Horse.
Chinese Astrology and culture has a long-standing love affair with the Dragon, the mystical culmination of the Celestial Zodiac. During Dragon years, everyone in China tries to get pregnant. In the Chinese mind, the promise of a male Dragon son represents a potential for greatness unmatched in the other signs. For the Dragon has always been a symbol of the Emperor and the power of Heaven.
(To the Western mind, the Chinese preference for male children is, of course, problematic. A Fire Dragon daughter born in a small fishing village would have been considered too much trouble and would have most likely been “given back to the ancestors,” i.e. thrown down a well, and many Chinese families today still choose to abort Horse, Dragon, and Tiger daughters, especially the rebellious Fire types, for they are considered disruptions to society.)
I have been looking forward to and dreading my exploration of Dragon Qi. I was born in a Metal Dragon hour, so I am half Dragon, for the year and the hour form the primary image of someone’s Qi Character/Signature. Therefore, I am excited to explore and share with you part of my own Character. Like the Tiger, studying the Dragon has been a great source of personal revelation, and I hope I can offer some of the insight gained from my self-reflection.
When I first began studying this tradition, I did not account for Daylight Savings (a bane of Astrologers) and thought I was born in Snake Hour. Eventually, it occurred to me that some weird rule made up by Germans during WWI about setting the clocks back an hour was probably irrelevant to the Immortal Currents of Fate, so I shifted my chart back an hour and had to reassess my Character and Fate. An argument can be made that whatever the government writes down is your fate, which is a very Chinese idea. But, I have now done many readings in which the chart adjusted for Daylight Savings is clearly more accurate, including my own, so I stick with the adjustment.
I had convinced myself that I was half Snake, and it took a lot of self-reflection to accept the Dragon. I have always been quiet, introverted, and gentle. The powerful dynamic image of the Metal Dragon did not seem to fit, especially with my primary Character, the Tiger, which is a potentially catastrophic combination, sort of like strapping a rocket (Dragon) into a slingshot (Tiger) like Wile E. Coyote. But after a thorough study of the Dragon, I have come to accept this side of myself and embrace it as part of my potential, and I will share my expression of Dragon Qi as we go. Although I may be reserved/reluctant in my expression, I am not in my energy, and that was the difference—I was confusing nature with nurture.
Since a young age, I have learned to repress/suppress my energy in many ways, and I misidentified my Qi because of this. I now work to unleash my Dragon nature, within reason, for I have a ridiculous Qi capacity that, quite frankly, scares me. The only famous person I have encounter so far with a similar combination is Che Guevara, an Earth Dragon born in Fire Dragon Month on a Wood Tiger Day in a Fire Tiger Hour, which is a bit scary. I have an Earth Dragon friend born in Tiger hour, and he and I are basically the same dude. Fearing my own nature, I have worked very hard since I was young to manage it, because I recognized right away that it was potentially destructive, but like Che Guevara, it is also revolutionary. When I am at my best, the Dragon comes out, and I love this side of myself and, in many ways, prefer it to the Tiger.
I dread discussing the Dragon because it cannot be defined. Whenever I do readings for Dragons or Snakes, I throw my hands up and say “?!” As the mystical Yin-Yang culmination at the center of the Zodiac, the Dragon and Snake are defined by being ineffable, characterized by their unknowable quality, but in different ways. The Snake is Big Yin, emptiness, and the Dragon is Big Yang, fullness. The Snake represents the inner open capacity to become any of the other 11 without being them, but the Dragon actually is all 11 Characters embodied.
The symbol of the Dragon, then, is a synthesis. If you look at depictions of the Chinese Dragon you will see that it is a composite of every animal. According to tradition, it is said to have the whiskers of the Rat, the face and horns of the Ox, the claws and teeth of the Tiger, the belly of the Rabbit, the body of the Snake, the legs of the Horse, the goatee of the Goat, the wit (or brain) of the Monkey, the crest of the Rooster, the ears of the Dog, and the snout of the Pig.
The Dragon is the only animal of the 12 capable of flight, an important part of the symbol, and yet it is rarely depicted with wings, for its ability to fly is super natural. It is the only supernatural animal in the group, and people question its existence.
But the Chinese never questioned the existence of Dragons because everyone knew they were controlling the weather and water. Dragons were thought to be behind the clouds, causing storms, floods, and rain. If you could ride to the source of a great storm or flood, then maybe you could see one and earn the title “Dragon.”
The synthesis of all 11 into the supernatural Dragon represents infinite potential, which is the first and most important thing we can say about Dragons. Dragon Qi is said to have the qualities, capacities, and skills of all 11 and the power to express all or none of them if they choose, sort of like the 9 on the enneagram. The Dragon can choose to deny its potential, which is why Dragons need a path. Their infinite potential is meaningless to the Chinese unless it is turned away from selfishness and towards self-reflection, dedicated to the benefit of others.
Ming used to say that each Character is like a tool box with a specific set of tools/skills, but the Dragon tool box just has a Dragon in it. In other words, we don’t know what Dragons are for. They are a paradox outside the paradigm, and often they are an enigma to their friends and family. The Snake is an enigma even to themselves, but Dragons, while mysterious, are often very self-confident and assured, which is part of what baffles people about them.
Historically, the Dragon is a symbol of the Emperor and the Rising Sun to the East, the ruling power of Heaven from an unknown mystical origin. Because of their potential, Dragons were considered great leaders, capable of the biggest most inclusive view with the most compassion. So, it is easy to understand why the Chinese revere the Dragon and the Emperor.
There is a mountain of lore around the Dragon symbol, but let’s get into the Character. I will do my best to make this specific, but again, Dragons may be all or none of this, and the uncultivated Dragon may be a mess of everything all at once, unable to make sense of themselves.
The Dragon’s native element is Yang Earth, which is also shared by Dragon’s opposite, the Dog. They each express the virtues of Yang Earth in different ways. For the Dragon, Yang Earth represents flight—the ability to break away from the Earth, symbolizing the Dragon’s capacity to see and travel beyond. The Dog represents territory and the ability to intuit, cover, and protect the terrain.
Yang Earth represents manifestation, confidence, alliance, leadership, wealth, abundance, balance, caring, and power—yang expressions as opposed to the Yin aspects of Earth (nourishing, mothering, stabilizing, supporting, etc.) By nature, the Dragon has these capacities, but often has difficulty expressing them without training. And of course, each Elemental Dragon has their own challenges.
Dragons can have a difficult time expressing their greatness in a mature and grounded way because of the expansive nature of Dragon Qi. If there is one thing we can say about Dragon Qi—it is big, sometimes too big. Dragon Qi is pervasive and expansive. It is Big Yang exploding out into heaven, into the sky, seeking to fly beyond and above all boundaries. In myself, I feel this as an outward expanding “bigness,” hard to put into words. This bigness, in my view, is what tends to give Dragons characteristics we can talk about, which they otherwise transcend.
The transcendent quality of the Dragon makes them natural mystics, and often people with Dragon Qi are interested in spiritual occult traditions, especially those with extraordinary cosmologies. The way Dragons experience themselves and the universe is just too big for ordinary views. To me, Bruce Lee was the quintessential Dragon (Metal Dragon born in Earth Dragon Hour), and his life was a demonstration of the mystical power of Dragon Qi.
Dragons see through and beyond ordinary appearances like the Snake, but unlike the Snake, their powerful expansive Qi pushes them towards action. Dragons want to go beyond and actualize their potential, and they can go further than any other sign. If a Dragon chooses to leave the world, they will never be seen again; if they choose to embrace the world, they go into it deeply and lose themselves in the service of greatness.
So now we get into key words. And like last time, I am going to discuss the key words in charged/depleted pairs. Remember, each positive virtue of a Character has a flipside when we become depleted.
The first is strong or powerful. The Yang Earth Character of the Dragon has a strength unmatched by any of the other 11 Characters. Dragon strength is different than say Ox or Horse strength. Ox strength represents the capacity to carry, maintain, and endure, and horse strength represents the power to manifest, work, and accomplish, but Dragon strength is not related to any specific capacity and is better represented by the power of a great storm, the strength of nature unleashed. We marvel at the strength of nature, and we respect and fear its destructive side. The power of water, when harvested by a dam, can generate immense energy, yet uncontrolled, a tidal wave can demolish a town. We do not consider tidal waves evil, yet we mourn and fear nature’s destruction. In the same way, Dragon strength is immense, raw, wild and can be destructive, but like the dam it can be harnessed for good.
This strength, the explosive Yang, can turn to profound compulsiveness. Dragon Qi can be overwhelming, and Dragons can be a handful, bundles of energy that need channels in which to flow lest they flow everywhere. Like Tiger Qi, Dragon Qi has an explosive outward moving quality, symbolized by flight, that can propel Dragons toward uncontrolled action and reaction. This compulsive strength can be physical, mental, or emotional and can manifest as patterns of unruly behavior or speech, speaking freely and challenging everyone and every idea as a demonstration of power, especially Fire Dragons. In general, Dragons need an outlet where they can demonstrate their strength otherwise they will destroy themselves.
The strength of the Dragon feels very natural and becomes a kind of confidence, not necessarily social confidence but self-assuredness and confidence in view. Dragons know they’re right. Other Characters have this too, Roosters for example, but the Rooster arrives at confidence through analysis. The Dragon does no analysis; we’re born assured and cannot be convinced otherwise. I may whine and complain, but I know why I was born and the world just doesn’t fit into my plan; since I was born I have had a big grandiose vision. The problem is that nothing can live up to the Dragon’s vision, so it is hard for us to come back down to Earth. Dragons feel like they’re the rulers of the universe, masters of destiny, the most capable, the smartest, the best, and so on.
With training, we can be, but often, this self-assured confidence is over-confident and all talk, what we call “delusions of grandeur.” So, Dragons are often very selfish and “egotistical” in the ordinary sense. Dragons often feel like royalty, like everything should be given to them, like they’re already awesome and should be rewarded justly. We may even have low self-esteem, but that’s because people just don’t get how awesome we are, so it’s their fault not ours, or so we think. We can be attention hungry and expect others to acknowledge us regardless of what we do.
The Dragon can be so confident in their abilities that they never actually work to do anything. Often, we need big reality checks, to “eat humble pie,” and we need to put in the time and effort to master something. And when we do, this natural confidence in our abilities can be actualized and taken to great heights like Bruce Lee.
Dragons, therefore, possess a natural charisma. Something about their power, confidence, and ineffability becomes enigmatic and impressive to others. To me, Patrick Steward, Captain Jean-Luc Picard, a Metal Dragon and fantastic Shakespearean actor, is a great example of the Dragon charisma. He exudes a natural confidence.
Dragons are a mystery to others and defy labels. At their best, Dragons love showmanship and can be flamboyant and outgoing. I have never been outgoing in an extroverted sense, but when I am “unleashed,” put into a situation where I can demonstrate my abilities, I can be very charismatic and authoritative. Dragons often have big personalities, even if that personality is introverted.
The outgoing nature of the Dragon is based on a kind of ambition and adventurous spirit. Grand is the only scale Dragons work with. We have a big, broad, expansive, and inclusive vision, the capacity to see a panoramic picture. Philosophically, the Dragon has a view/insight no other Character is capable of and can fly out beyond the clouds. Dragons seek grand Peter Pan style adventure. Small goals and narrow ideas seem insignificant, unimportant—why bother?
Dragons have a tremendous capacity for fantasy and envision themselves to be great magnanimous beings; we take the whole “I want to grow up to be an astronaut” to ridiculous proportions. We may live in a fantasy world in which we are invincible and infallible. I have only ever been interested in big lofty spiritual goals and, sorry, nothing in this world can live up to my aspiration to be liberated for the benefit of all beings. A personal vision may not necessarily be defined, but Dragons feel destined for greatness. Living in the clouds, fantasizing of greatness, Dragons can appear aloof and distant, difficult for others to connect with.
On the flipside, we are unrealistic. Nothing can live up to the Dragon’s scale. It is hard for Dragons to sweat the small stuff, to pay attention to details. Dragons are a telescope looking out to the stars, not a microscope. We can be unrealistic with everything—our own abilities, our plans, our expectations of others.
Dragons are also dramatic. We can make a big deal out of small things because big is how we roll. When things don’t go our way, and when things fall short of expectations, Dragons are sarcastic drama queens. The feeling of bigness, too, can lead to being insensitive, blunt, and unconcerned with people’s feelings, except for our own, of which we “make mountains of mole hills.”
The power and self-assuredness of the Dragon can be assertive, willful, confident, dedicated, and demanding. Dragons demand the best from themselves and from others and tend to assert and insist upon their opinion, which is both a virtue and a challenge. To be a leader, one must be assertive and able to make decisions, and the Dragon is the most skillful leader and should not be put in subordinate positions. They thrive in leadership roles, but without feet on the ground, they can fly over the little guy. Once the Dragon has developed their heart, their assertive willfulness can accomplish greatness for better or worse, like Che Guevara.
If turned toward the spiritual path, this capacity to assert will power, to connect to the Yang expression of Heaven, can be unparalleled. A great example of this is the late teacher and Earth Dragon Swami Rudrananda, otherwise known as Rudi. His book, Spiritual Cannibalism, is a fantastic exposition of Dragon Qi applied to the spiritual path. Rudi had titanic willpower and dedication, and he taught people to essentially “eat” and be nourished by everything as energy, to become what Tantra calls a viśvaboghi, a digester of the universe. Unfortunately, not many people possess Rudi’s willpower and fall short of his example (this includes most of his students teaching today). Not everyone can live up to the Dragon’s vision, but he was inspiring nonetheless.
The final positive virtue I will offer of the Dragon is generosity. It may sound like Dragons have a lot of potentially challenging qualities, but we must remember that they have unlimited potential. The Dragon can display all virtues to the grandest scale. Dragon Qi is big and overflows all boundaries, which naturally turns to generosity. The flipside we discussed is selfishness, but the Dragon can give and demonstrate tremendous sacrifice for others. Of any sign, the Dragon is the most likely to die for others or for a cause.
I must reiterate again that Dragon Qi is a paradox that cannot be defined other than to say it is unlimited Yang creative potential. The qualities I have discussed are merely an attempt to discuss what happens when Dragon Qi is confined in human Character. Dragons can be anything or nothing if they choose, and they represent a culmination of the Zodiac, everything rolled into one, exploding out.
My Mantic Arts teacher, Liu Ming, wrote a book on the stages of human spiritual development called Dragon’s Play. In the book, the Dragon represents the twelfth and final stage of human life, the greatest expression of Yang Qi and human potential—the Rainbow Light Body, Ja lü in Tibetan, Prakāśakāya/Tejokāya in Sanskrit, and Hóngshēn in Chinese. In Daoist and Tantric cultivation, a practitioner of the Way is said to draw all of creation into their heart or navel creating a “cosmic egg/immortal fetus,” an expression of ultimate Yin, the return to Source. The result of Ultimate Yin turns to Ultimate Yang, which is the Dragon, ultimate freedom bursting from the Egg, light flowing freely and consciously into all dimensions, consciously becoming the Universe, which other people witness as a display of Light. The Dragon is the primordial gesture of the Dao itself, the demonstration of Source Qi’s power to become everything, which all humans are destined for.
This may sound fantastic, but of course, everyone, every Character has this potential too; it is not limited to Dragons. Dragons are just a symbol of our unlimited potential. Dragon Characters need a path otherwise this potential is meaningless. Above all, Dragons need training; we need a path, but we must never be controlled. Dragons must be left alone to follow their own way, or they will eat you.
Dragons, like Rabbits, exemplify the relationship between Character and Fate. An Earth Dragon born in the ghetto with no opportunity to demonstrate their leadership capacity might become a gang leader, go to prison, and be king inmate. A Dragon born without major obstacles and challenges will most like destroy themselves; their strength demands "big" Fate.
The Five Dragons each demonstrate a different flavor of Dragon Qi, the Wood Dragon (Laughing Dragon) being the most creative and light hearted, the Fire Dragon (Sky Dragon) the most challenging and explosive, the Earth Dragon (Yielding Dragon) the most grounded and regal, the Metal Dragon (Angry Dragon) the most powerful and articulate, and the Water Dragon (Rain Dragon) the most nurturing and mystical.
I hope you enjoyed this exposition of Dragon Qi. Stay tuned as I attempt to discuss the other ineffable Character, the mystical Snake, Big Yin, the sorcerer philosopher.
Hello Astrology Fans! I have finished a month long retreat/training in Traditional Kuṇḍalinī-Hatha Yoga, which I am excited to share, and I am sitting here in a café in Chiang Mai, Thailand, also excited to continue my Blog. I apologize for the long silence, but such is the nature of retreat. When last we left off, I explored the Character of Tiger Qi, which is my own Character. As promised, we now move forward as Tiger changes to Rabbit.
Like the Ox, I feel close to Rabbit Qi, for so many of my friends were born in the Lunar Year of 1987, the Year of the Fire Rabbit.
Rabbit Qi opens us into a dimension of experience we have not yet explored, a dimension unique among the 12 Animals—what we can call “intuition.”
When studying the cycle of 12, we must remember that each Animal transforms into the next in a meaningful, although non-linear, way. The cycle is a whirlwind, centripetal and centrifugal, a tornado of energy, which flows in a kind of lopsided pattern.
If the Ox represents strength, tolerance, and continuity, and the Tiger represents an escape from continuity, through rebellion, creativity, and change, then the Rabbit represents the result of the Tiger’s impulsive revolutionary bluster, which is a kind of raw, open, vulnerable sensitivity, represented by the Rabbit’s native element—Yin Wood.
Yin Wood is innocence, spontaneity, flexibility, renewal, humility, gentleness, sensitivity, subordination, and potentiality. While Yang Wood represents a naïve impulsive force to come into being, Yin Wood demonstrates the outcome of that force, which is exposed, raw, tender, but with great creative potential, like a sprout emerging from the earth, ready to grow into a mighty oak. The Tiger represents the brave and daring impulse of the sprout to arise at all into the danger of the world, and the Rabbit is the tender shoot needing protection and nurturing to thrive.
The Tiger represents a necessary rebellion against stagnation, and the insight of the Rabbit understands that rules (Ox) must have intuition if they are to be free of stagnation. Revolution cannot be sustained (hence the Tiger’s struggle) and should end with a refreshed look at things, and we call this the Rabbit.
The Rabbit sees into and understands the Tiger’s rebellion with a kind of empathy that is beyond the Tiger’s grasp, which is why it is the natural outcome of Tiger Qi. The mystical state (Tiger) needs heart (Rabbit). When this succeeds, the outcome is the Dragon, which is unlimited potential.
In the Chinese View, the qualities of the Rabbit are best described by the term “Lunar,” and the history of the Rabbit as a symbol comes from the Moon. The Chinese call the Moon Tai Yin, which just means Great Yin, so Rabbits are obviously very Yin. When the Chinese look at the Moon, they see a Rabbit. Americans see cheese, or something, but the Chinese see a Rabbit. In other words, Rabbits are lunar creatures; they come from the moon and are seen as manifestations of moonlight.
Rabbits were, therefore, revered, and it was considered very bad luck to harm or eat them. It is surprising how rarely they were eaten, since the ancient Chinese ate nearly everything else. This says something very important about the Rabbit—that they should be protected and revered for what they offer. Daoist alchemists saw the Rabbit as being/producing an elixir of longevity, a nectar from the bardo of night turning to day, from mist and moonlight. The Rabbit, therefore, became of symbol of the inner world, or Nei, associated with Nei Dan or Nei Gong, the practices of Internal Alchemy.
The Rabbit rules the dawn, from 5 am to 7 am, and these Lunar creatures are most active during this crepuscular hour. To understand Rabbit Qi, simply take a walk in the woods at 6 am. The energy is gentle, vibrant, soft, and transparent. For the dawn is a time of transition. Light emerges, and we awake, emerging from the subconscious, and dreams cross into our waking reality.
The lunar image of the Rabbit represents their strong need to escape the light of day, their fear of confrontation, a symbol of the delicate, sensitive, and vulnerable nature of Rabbit Qi. And while this may sound “weak” to some, the Chinese Tradition insists that weakness is very important. Some Characters are strong; some are weak, and each contributes something very important to society.
Traditional Chinese Medicine diverged from Roman Medicine based on this very principal. Around the turn of the Common Era, the main form of medicine around the world was bleeding, which was a very strong treatment that often killed the weak. Romans responded by saying, “good; the weak are unworthy Roman citizens.” The Chinese, on the other hand, said, “wait; perhaps weak people are sensitive and have something to offer society that strong people overlook.” So the bleeding needles became smaller; the treatments became weaker, and according to some, acupuncture developed as a natural outcome of earlier more forceful bleeding treatments.
(Side note—at the turn of the Common Era, the Chinese were already well aware of circulation, whereas the Romans had special chairs that leaned to tip your blood out; the West did not discover circulation until quite recently by comparison. In my opinion, our medicine is still very Roman.)
The instinct to preserve sensitive people is a Rabbit instinct, and Chinese Medicine is “sensitive” or weak medicine and proud of it. Western Medicine is “strong,” and sees nothing strange about hack-sawing people’s sternums open and pulling their lungs out. Nor do they see anything wrong with poisoning people as the main form of treatment (pharmaceuticals). In my eyes, the Rabbit is a symbol of Chinese Medicine, for it represents the sensitive, intuitive, and gentle approach to life.
Energetically, the Rabbit is submerged in the “subconscious” stream flowing beneath everything, a mumbling dialogue our energy has with itself, a constant flow of imagination, and a smooth flow of emotional response going on all the time. Rabbits are like an exposed wire, picking up on signals invisible to the rest of us. This raw exposed quality has many interesting manifestations in terms of Character, but before we discuss these in key terms, we must look deeper into the symbol of the actual animal itself—think bunnies.
The Rabbit or Hare is very small and soft, and they’re not predators capable of defending themselves, so they hide, a symbol of their fragility and paranoia. They are the prey, and anything can come to eat them. They often live in burrows or bushes, a symbol of being beneath, hidden, submerged in the subconscious stream, protected from the light. The burrow also represents the Rabbit’s “nesting instinct,” which manifests in their need for safety and security. They have big sensitive ears, like satellites picking up on frequencies all around them. They live in communal families (Water Ship Down anyone?), a symbol of their social nature and of the importance of relationships to Rabbit Qi. Finally, despite their delicate appearance, they have powerful hind legs and are capable of being absolutely vicious if back into a corner. All of these symbols will become clear as we go through the key terms.
That being said, in order to understand the Rabbit, we must understand its social instinct, which we call “dependent.” Above all, Rabbit Qi is vulnerable yet profound in its intuitive capacity, so Rabbits seek safety, protection, alliance, and stability in the form of “home.” When the Rabbit feels safe, secure, and has a tribe/circle of close friends, or a strong protector/partner, or they own their own home, then they shine; they become the Dragon—powerful and dynamic leaders with insight and heart, capable and successful. If Rabbits have strong sibling or parental guardians, they can learn their power early in life. If they are hurt or alone they close off, put up armor, and their intuitive gifts are often repressed and come out as defensive and vicious.
Not only do Rabbits need good protection as children, but they need an environment that nurtures their intuition. A Rabbit child may be sitting in math class and start channeling spirits from the hills behind the school, drawn to go outside or sing or paint. Instead, they get told to shut up, sit still, and listen. They then internalize and go into their own world, unable to cope with math class. Distracted, they get a D and get told they're stupid. If this happens enough, a Rabbit can close off and not recover their intuition until much later in life if ever.
So the first key term is gentle. The gentle quality of Rabbit people is not always apparent, especially with Fire Rabbits, and this has a lot to do with their childhoods, family circumstances, and current relationships. In their nature though, Rabbits are sweet, kind, nice, and peace loving. Most Rabbits I meet, or people born in Rabbit Hour, have a good natured sweetness to them that I find immediately apparent, but sometimes this sweetness is lying under the surface and comes out only after they trust you.
Conversely, at their worst, Rabbits turn vicious. Energetically, they are like bunnies, so people think they can do anything they want to them or in front of them. They are more often than not the victims of trauma and abuse. Because of their sweet and timid nature, Rabbits can remain frozen, scared, and take abuse for a long time until it becomes intolerable, in which case they often lash out and end their abuse/suffering in vicious and violent ways. I often say, hell hath no fury like a Rabbit scorned. Ming used to say, “Watch out for those hind legs!” When they’re hurt, Rabbits have a potential for darkness far beyond the other signs.
Rabbits are usually quiet by nature, for they are always listening and can’t help it, which is symbolized by the big ears. Rabbits feel at home being hidden, quiet, listening to the ethers. Ming was once interpreting for a Tibetan Lama when a student came back from retreat. The Lama asked, “How was your meditation?” The student replied, “It was amazing; by the second month, my mind was so quiet, I could hear the thinking of the people in the town below me!” This is a very Rabbit response…now I can hear everyone!
On the flipside, being quiet and humble by nature can turn to being a gossipy chatterbox. Rabbits can have a profound capacity for talking, which comes from being slightly nervous all the time. Relaxed and in their power, Rabbits feel no need to speak and are natural listeners, but when out of their element and vulnerable, they tend to speak uncontrollably, trying to get a handle on the situation. I recently met a 5 year old Metal Rabbit, who although sweet as could be, was so skittish and nervous that he never stopped asking questions, as if trying to understanding everything and pin down his environment. Furthermore, since Rabbits are socially dependent in nature, they can use speech and gossip as a tool for manipulation, talking people up and down in order to gain advantage. Rabbits hate confrontation of all kinds, but when back into a corner, they can retaliate with the nastiest most hurtful vitriol you have ever heard.
The positive flipside of this, then, is that Rabbits can be incredibly sweet, supportive, and loving. Rabbits, by nature, are supportive and caring friends, partners, lovers, and parents. The Rabbit is perhaps the most “domestic” of the 12 Animals. Rabbit Qi seeks to nest, to nurture, and to create a loving and supportive environment in which they and others can thrive. I can’t tell you how many Rabbits I know who have become kindergarten/elementary school teachers.
From birth, Rabbits possess a strong social drive to create family and friendship, to bond with others and create tribe/clan, and to belong to and feel part of a group or community. In their hearts, they are not loners, although when in pain they can hide from the world as not to be seen or hurt again. When Rabbits find their home, their tribe, they thrive and become great leaders or successful entrepreneurs. Empowered, Rabbits are among the most authoritative and confident of the 12 Animals, which is how Rabbit turns to Dragon.
Early in life Rabbits often seek a stable base to get “security” taken care of. They can often appear very independent to others, but as soon as they have a protector, a guardian, a home base, something to rely on, they lose their independent nature and become dependent so they can let their other gifts, which need support, come forward. To others, the Rabbit can appear deceptive and lazy, but this is a very lopsided “American” understanding—that everyone needs to be a rugged independent individual. Rabbits yearn to let go of their independence to merge with family, friends, lovers, and so on, in order to offer their big squishy hearts. Others often become dependent on them for nurturing and emotional support, which is part of the Rabbit gift.
Rabbits have a powerful even mystical connection to objects, especially those related to the home—furniture, clothing, cookware, and so on. They love to “feather their nests” and often collect material possessions. They derive nourishment from things/stuff. A Rabbit will make home wherever they go. Travelling, they may bring their power objects and set up a cozy warm environment in a hotel room for the night (Pigs do this too).
This connection with objects is related to the Rabbit’s heightened sense of aesthetics. Rabbits are creative designers with a natural sense of Feng Shui, the auspice of placement. This aesthetic sensibility lends to a deep appreciate into the nature of beauty, which offers artistic depth to the Rabbit sweetness.
Rabbits are naturally intuitive and empathetic. We can also call this subliminal or subconscious. Rabbits are like a radar dish; internally they are open receivers. Rabbits can walk into a room and can immediately feel everything going on. They can sense everyone’s mood, their body language; they intuitively perceive all the unconscious signals people put out through their “energy.” A Rabbit might actually see your Aura.
Obviously, this has positive and negative consequences. Positively speaking, Rabbits have an unusual capacity to feel, to empathize, and their intuition, when properly trained, gives them tremendous emotional intelligence and insight into others/the world.
On the other hand, it is very easy to mistake intuition for wisdom—they are not the same thing. There is a lot of “static” in the universe, most of which is just psychic garbage floating around. The subconscious ethers, the invisible world of ghosts and spirits, the hum of negative habitual emotional facilitation that people emit all the time without knowing it—Rabbits feel all of this more than the other signs. If their vulnerability is exposed to too many influences, their intuition can go haywire from too much “noise.”
Rabbits cannot shut down their intuition. They really should not live in cities, places where there is too much activity, data, noise, pollution, people, and so on. If the apartment building they live in has too much thinking, they can go crazy and not know why. This sensitivity is often embodied, which can lead to all kinds of allergies. They can be affected by minute changes in the weather. In general, they should live somewhere dull.
It may seem unusual to channel a nature spirit, but actually it isn’t. A Rabbit may easily go into a trance and channel a nature spirit, and others may think this is profound, and Rabbits may think so too. But anyone who has seen into the spirit world can tell you that it is absolutely full of useless, dumb, confused, greedy, and hungry spirits milling around all over the place that will appear as anything in order to feed on your Kidney Qi. It may seem “special” to be a trance medium, but actually, you’re just lunch. It is, of course, possible to be a wise medium, but this takes a lot of training, which is the purpose of Daoism. Daoism is basically ritual training to manage the spirit world. Rabbits are natural Daoists, and should receive this training early on, so they don’t become lunch.
Practically speaking, Rabbits are often lunch for other people. Just like most disembodied spirits are looking to feed on others, so are most people who are not self-possessed. Rabbits are easy prey to aggressive people looking to dominate and feed on others. Because Rabbits want to merge and depend, they easily attach to the wrong people. Relationships of all kinds are crucial for the Rabbit. They need training to be self-possessed, and they need to be very careful about who they choose to let in. If a healthy Rabbit lets you into to their world, you should feel blessed, because they are the greatest support.
The receptivity of the Rabbit makes them the most susceptible to paranoia, schizophrenia, anxiety, nervous disorders, and so on. Rabbits can be scattered, twitchy, and they can constantly feel threatened. Rabbits need training in their emotional intelligence from an early age, otherwise they can become “weird,” even crazy. In traditional terms, they are the most susceptible to possession, for they hear the voices of the Ancestors, and can perceive ghosts/demons more than other signs, especially as children. If they have good training, they make amazing counselors, teachers, guides, social workers, and they love serving and supporting others.
The Rabbit’s health and well being has everything to do with how they handle their emotional facilitation. An uneven flow of emotion is the ground of all their illness and compromises their immune system. If they undergo surgery, for example, and the nurse says something terrible before they go under, there will be complications in the surgery. If they feel that the surgeon “understands them,” the surgery will go perfectly no matter what happens. It is important to understand that Rabbits do not “think” this way; it is the nature of their Qi. They’re vulnerable.
Rabbits possess an amazing social charm; they can be incredibly seductive and sexy, mesmerizing and alluring, and they can appear as a kind of “prize” to others wanting to “catch” them. This skill comes from their social instinct, and at their best, Rabbits bring out the best in others, bringing people together and inspiring them. At their worst, this social skill is opportunistic, and they use their charm to gain advantage over others socially.
They can manipulate and control others, especially with their sexuality. Rabbits are by nature one of the most sexual signs (Rabbits can reproduce like crazy in the wild), and they can use their sexual power as a tool of leverage over others as another way to gain security. The need to be safe, if driven unconsciously by fear, can turn Rabbits into superficial snobs who will do anything just to secure a partner or good social standing.
Rabbits are by nature full of love; they are diverse and accepting of everyone. They are unique in their emotional intelligence and empathy. And their intuition is a beautiful gift. Anyone born during Rabbit Hour as well has this capacity.
Rabbits also teach us a lot about the central relationship between Character and Fate in Chinese Astrology. Rabbits have amazing potential, and yet they’re delicate and have no built in “muscle,” so their blooming in life is very dependent upon the circumstances of Fate. If a Rabbit has good fated relationships with partners, family, and Feng Shui, then they bloom. If their relationships are haunted, then they tend to be held back and can become very self destructive. If Rabbits are hurt or feel unsafe, they will do anything including take their own life. Rabbits have the potential to go darker than any other sign, which most people do not want to talk about, but I will say it again: hell hath no fury like a Rabbit scorned. So Fate for Rabbits is very important. Rabbits also bloom when they have modest or gentle fate. A Rabbit born with big Fate to be president is most certainly an affliction.
Free of Fate, Rabbits can most certainly go into the category of mystic and have a tremendous capacity for self-cultivation.
In terms of the Five Rabbits, Wood Rabbits are the most natural and the most vulnerable, probably the sweetest and most sensitive of all 60 signs. Fire Rabbits are the most independent, stubborn, and angsty—the teenage Rabbit. Earth/Metal Rabbits are the most mature, secure, and stable, the least Rabbity Rabbits. And the Water Rabbits are beyond profound, mystical, yet they are perhaps the most troubled and paranoid.
Hopefully, this gives you a window into the depth of Rabbit Qi, the stream beneath appearances. Stay tuned, as Rabbit turns to Dragon, the mystical synthesis of the Zodiac.
I have read a number of popular books on the Chinese Zodiac, and I can usually tell the Character of the author. However, I have never read an author who admits their Character upfront, which is strange to me. Personal Astrology is usually considered private, and people are often discrete when discussing it in traditional cultures, but not usually among family and friends, for it is considered an essential guide to relating. Most writing on the Chinese Zodiac is, to me, impersonal, and descriptions are usually lopsided. Writers often exalt or diminish certain animals based on their personal Character’s bias.
Personally, I see Astrology as a tool for self-reflection. Any consideration of Astrology begins with the study your own Character and Fate. I can only understand the 12 Animals through my primary Character—the Yang Fire Tiger, and I display this Character until death; it is my capacity to resolve Fate/Karma.
The Tiger relates differently with each animal. In other words, no description of the 12 Animals can be fair or equal, for they do not relate equally. The 12 Animals are patterns of Qi, and some match like a Phillips Head Screw and Screwdriver. Others may relate to one another like dialing a cell phone with a sledge hammer, or as the saying goes—like a square peg in a round hole. So I am up front about my Astrology; I have even published my birth time. To a Monkey (Tiger’s opposite), my way of life may seem like a sledge hammer.
I am a Fire Tiger. Therefore, this exploration of Tiger Qi will be fundamentally different than my other expositions, because this one I know from the inside out. And remember, the Year is primary in a person’s Qi Character. I cannot help that this is personal, perhaps even emotional, for understanding the Tiger has been a tremendous source of personal revelation. I imagine that other Tigers will resonate with this, but perhaps not. Hopefully, my personal experience does not get in the way too much.
Although the Chinese love the Tiger, it is in many ways the antithesis of China. It therefore holds a special place in Chinese Cosmology. For the Chinese always welcome chaos because no healthy society can function without destruction and renewal.
In my last blog on the Ox, I mention that the Ox is a symbol of China, and the Tiger is a rebellion against everything the Ox stands for, energetically speaking. In the Cycle of Time, Ox Qi transforms into Tiger Qi. If Ox represents the stability, continuity, tradition, and consistency of Yin Earth, the Tiger, whose nature is Yang Wood, represents a forceful breaking away from all these qualities, for Wood eats/destroys/controls Earth in the Five Element Cycle.
In order to understand Tiger Qi, we must understand its Native Element—Yang Wood. Yang Wood is the first element in the cycle, which is why the Tiger Moon coincides with the Chinese New Year and the first day of Spring.
Yang Wood is the fresh, dynamic, naive, innocent, pliant, new, unformed, spontaneous, impulsive, and forceful arising of movement from complete stillness. Yang Wood is invisible, pure; it represents birth, initiation, renewal, potentiality, creativity, and adaptation. Force arising from stillness—this is the Tiger. Imagine a cat, still and unmoving, pouncing on their pray.
Like all the Animal Characters, the Tiger has many layers, both historic and symbolic. These symbols hold the key to understanding each animal, in this case the Tiger, as a pattern of Qi in the Cycle of Time.
Historically, the Tiger is the most successful predator of humans, and conversely, humans are the only successful predator of Tigers. At one point, there were millions of Tigers in Asia. Many of the earliest recorded human remains were found with the bones of Tigers, which has puzzled archaeologists for years. They’re not sure who killed whom.
In the Han Dynasty, the number one cause of death among peasants listed in medical records (besides war) was Tigers. They roamed freely and would wander into villages at whim, eating anything that came in their path. In short, Tigers disrupted orderly society (as do Tiger People), which is why they’re the antithesis of China.
The Han Government waged war on Tigers, and in less than a century they murdered over 3 million of them. This trend continued, which is why the Tiger came close to extinction in Asia but has since been coming back.
Famous Generals were depicted wearing Tiger skins as a symbol of their fearlessness in battle. Killing a Tiger earned you the title “Tiger.” The Chinese character for Tiger depicts a bow drawn and about to fire, implying a long history of hunting Tigers.
We can call the early religion of China “Animistic Shamanism,” which later became Daoism. Rural and tribal religion was officiated by Shaman Priests who were great arbiters of the Spirit World. Today they are known as “Red Hat Daoists.” “Black Hat Daoists” are the Orthodox Priests who uphold the more official lineages.
Alive, Tigers presented great threat, but dead they were considered the most powerful spirit protector. Part of the war on Tigers, then, was to “put them on the other side,” so to speak. After the systematic murder of Tigers, Shaman priests would work to command Tiger Spirits. Zhang Dao-Ling, the founder of Orthodox Daoism, is depicted riding a Tiger, symbolizing his command of the Spirit World.
This trend is also found in Tantra, for Tigers were just as common in India, and great Tantric Masters and Deities are often depicted sitting on Tiger skins, wearing Tiger shawls, using Tigers as pillows, and so on. This symbolizes that a practitioner has conquered their fear and impulsiveness. Tiger Qi is considered the Wisdom of Fearlessness and the Victory over Danger.
Still to this day, it is common in China to write the Chinese symbol for Tiger on doors or amulets in order to ward off fire, theft, illness, and possession. The Tiger is a symbol of exorcism, dispossession, power, and warriorship. In many Martial Art traditions the Tiger is depicted with the Dragon in a Yin-Yang Symbol. Tigers (such as myself) born in Dragon Hour are considered to have adept potential to be Shaman/Warriors and should receive training very early in life.
This may sound impressive, but the Tiger Character is complex and not easy to understand. I often say—it isn’t easy being a Tiger. So before delving into the Key Terms, we must backup and examine the primary symbol of the Tiger—its stripes. The Tiger is striped. Tigers wish they could be lions or panthers (i.e. one color), but we cannot; we have stripes, and this symbolizes a fundamentally dual nature, which Tigers seek their whole lives to reconcile.
This dual nature comes from Yang Wood. Yang Wood is pure impulse. So the first and most important thing we can say about Tigers is that they’re impulsive, which causes a kind of alternating or lurching quality symbolized by the stripes.
The impulse of the Tiger is always to change, to break free, to innovate, to create, to destroy, to jump headfirst. Tigers feel the full force of primal energy with startling intensity. By nature, this impulsive lurching often causes inconsistent and unreliable behavior, which confuses others.
This behavior is often perceived as aggressive—the Tiger needs to hunt. But really, Tiger Qi is in a constant intimate interaction with its surroundings, deeply sensitive, drawing all other energies into it, alert to minute changes, moods, emotions, ready to pounce in an instant. Even when resting, we are like a loaded weapon. Without challenges, we can be champion loafers, lazy housecats, but we are always primed to jump and knock things over.
Tiger Qi is very physical; we need to use our bodies. By nature, Tigers possess strong constitutions and boundless energy, which can express complete stillness, meditative equipoise, and an immense physical capacity, vitality, and endurance.
Tiger Qi is fully present, ready for action, but it is naïve; Wood Element is always naïve. Liu Ming told the story of a Tiger running through the jungle, leaping over obstacles—suddenly, the Tiger leaps off a cliff. Halfway down, the Tiger realizes—oh, I’m falling! In other words, Tiger Qi lurches, jumps eagerly into danger, and often doesn’t realize its mistakes until too late.
Our stripes, our impulsiveness, make us difficult for others to understand. The stripes denote a powerful need to act, to connect, to be in the world, to love, and at the same time to run away, to hide, to be still, and to be alone in our caves.
Tigers are solitary animals. They are independent and need huge territories in which to roam. By nature, Tigers are hard to pair up with, so Tiger Characters tend to pair with other Tigers. In the wild, Tigers mate and then go their separate ways. If there are too many cubs born, the parents may actually kill a few as not to encroach on their hunting territory.
Tigers are pillars of strength and capacity, but then they disappear. They can be the life of the party, and then you may not see them for three months. We often jump full force into things, and then abandon them, and then we must abandon our abandoning, and so on. I cannot tell you how many times I have done this. We’re always changing, never consistent, but this is actually our power.
Yang Wood is spontaneity, creativity, and innovation. We may not be reliable, but we can change things, break the mold, think outside the box (although we’re not very practical and have a hard time making our creativity actually manifest).
Tiger Qi rebels against everything no matter what; we hate to be confined, and we hate expectations. This rebellion is impossible to control and can only be handled with our own self-discipline. We have to see outside ourselves and choose self-discipline. The Tiger finds their Qi power when fear becomes transparent and their power turns to natural discipline and leadership.
With training, Tigers make tremendous warriors, soldiers, fighters, shaman; they are heroic and noble defenders. Without training, the impulsive force of the Tiger can be disastrous, manifesting as intense anger and frequent losses of temper. Violence is the most available in the Tiger (also in Dragon, Horse, Pig, Rabbit), for some of the Characters must be willing to fight, and all Tigers need to recognize this part of them and accept it in order to be whole.
The influence of Tiger Qi is powerful; Tiger’s have a magnetic, hypnotizing quality, and they are often charismatic, dynamic, and innovative leaders and great orators. That being said, their inconsistency and unreliability dictates that they should not be in charge. Tigers are meant to inspire, dazzle, and then disappear. They are exemplars of power, action, and creativity.
Out of all the animals, Tigers, Goats, and Monkeys are considered the most creative and artistic (of course everyone can be artistic). Tiger Art is very “Jackson Pollock,” very modern. The impulse to splatter paint on a wall and call it art in order to break convention is a Tiger impulse. Yang Wood is imagination and an immense appetite for knowledge, information, and expression.
Because of our stripes, our impulsiveness, Tigers are seen to have the greatest capacity for self-destruction. The alternating quality of our stripes and our forceful internal impulse can cause great inner conflict and turmoil, and we can be our own worst enemies. It is hard for Tigers, with our unpredictable, impulsive creativity and strangeness, to find a place in the world, to accomplish anything and remain consistent, which goes against the grain of ordinary culture that expects us to get a job and be the same person all the time. We rebel, and without the proper environment and support we self destruct.
Tigers need unconditional acceptance, love, and tolerance. This is why Pigs are a great support, for they are the most tolerant. Oxen, too, are quite tolerant. Others need to know that we will always “let you down” if you expect constancy from us. It may sound harsh, but the only way Tigers can be in relationship is if others manage to not need us. We will do our best and need training in this regard, but we will most likely show you our stripes.
Because of the Tiger’s dual nature and tendency towards inner conflict and self-destruction, they tend toward great spiritual awakening. Many Tigers become mystics hell bent on the spiritual path, seeking the reconciliation and union of their opposites. Many Tigers become famous spiritual teachers, many of which have been an inspiration to me. My personal favorites—Alan Watts, Thomas Merton, Walt Whitman, Namkai Norbu, my Guru—Dharma Bodhi, Alan Wallace, and Adyashanti to name a few. I always recommend that everyone “google” famous people born in their year for inspiration.
Tiger Years can be explosive, bold—a time of extremes when life is experienced on a grand scale, with drama and excitement. The classics say—expect political rebellion and military coups.
So now we get to the Key Words. The first are courageous, daring, brave. Tiger Qi, again, represents fearlessness, a kind of Samurai mentality, hurling into danger, charging into the unknown, seeking adventure. This courage comes from a deep flirting with death in the core of our being, for Yang Wood emerges from death (Yin Water). This courage lends to being strong-willed, seeking to conquer the fear of death, and despite our impulsiveness, Tigers have famously terrifying will power, usually to accomplish or study strange and unusual things.
Tiger Qi is energetic, passionate, and enthusiastic. The force of Yang Wood is both physically and mentally expressed in the Tiger. Physically active, even hyperactive, Tigers can be balls of energy, freely expressing themselves in all kinds of uncontrollable ways, which is why they need self-discipline early in life. Discipline forced upon them will most likely be rebelled against.
Mentally and energetically, this unstoppable energy bubbles forth as enthusiasm and dedication. Tigers usually get really, really into things and champion what they love. If you’re around me for more than a minute, you will undoubtedly hear me ramble about the Dharma, Astrology, Chinese Medicine, and so on, and I don’t shut up. Once we love something, or someone, we become incredibly dedicated. However, this dedication rarely leads to mastery, unless we can direct/focus our will, which is part of our challenge.
Tigers are by nature unconventional, free-thinkers, who never conform. We have to do things differently and in our own way. Our mission is to break convention, shatter expectations, destroy boundaries, and forge new ground. I admit this is not easy for others or for us. But Tiger Qi is pure inspiration, fresh and new.
This unconventionality goes hand and hand with imagination and creativity. Tigers are natural poets, musicians, and artists. Walt Whitman, to me, is a fantastic example of the Tiger’s creative expression. I have dedicated huge amounts of energy towards creative expression—music, writing, art, astrology, mediation; at my best, I feel like an inexhaustible well. Of course, I have abandoned everything at some point and made no “career” out of my endeavors, but I’m trying to put it all together.
Tiger Qi is competitive. Tigers are always looking for opportunities to demonstrate their strength, mostly to themselves. The Tiger’s motivation often derives from inner conflict however, from our dual nature, as a need to prove something to ourselves. So often, we compete with ourselves and test this competition through others.
Tigers are honest due to our naivety. Yang Wood does not have maturity or discretion, so Tigers tend to wear their hearts on their sleeves. We usually don’t make very good actors, due to an inability to be anything other than what we are. Because of this we can be incredibly vulnerable. As Cubs/kids, Tigers are very vulnerable, and if traumatized we can get stuck in arrested development.
Tigers are often very dignified in their expression. Imagine a big noble jungle cat. Or, just look at any house cat that spends all day licking itself. This dignity lends to what the Chinese call the “Awesome Deportment,” and Tigers often find great value in cultivating and expressing a powerful or impressive image. Places, things, skills all must have power, meaning, and significance to add to the Tiger expression, otherwise we’re not interested. Tigers can treat people this way too; we love everybody, but to get us really interested, we must be mesmerized and impressed.
Finally, Tigers are considered lucky and generous. Luck is a very Chinese idea, and some Characters are considered to have it more than others. Luck is defined by being in the right place at the right time, which is usually a matter of Fate. At their best, Tiger’s are gregarious pleasure seekers who love sharing their luck with others.
So now we get to the flipside of all this—of course, this is about self reflection, so we must admit to the depleted qualities of Tiger Qi.
As I have already mentioned, our impulsiveness can turn to a profound restless/rebellion. All Yang Characters are prone to be restless, but Tiger restlessness is scary and goes hand in hand with feeling confined, stuck, in need of exploding out of our situation.
If we do not have problems/obstacle, we often create them in order to have something to rebel against, something to break out of, something to pounce on. We are rebels without a cause, our own worst enemies.
Tigers, especially Fire Tigers, can be risk taking landmines of passion and emotion. Uncontrolled drama and half-baked scheming can make their lives calamitous. Something usually becomes a “savior,” whether it is a teacher/mentor, a partner, a child. Tigers need to be regulated, so family is good for them if they can settle down. At our worst, we are indecisive, always second guessing, so having others take over, a strong partner for example, can be a blessing.
Often, we are so busy generating problems that we are inconsiderate of others. At our best, Tigers are incredibly generous and part of our path is to learn to give, let go, and see outside our problems to a bigger picture. Our inconsiderateness can come from being self-involved, morose, negative, and moody. Tiger Qi can go very dark, but it always comes back, which is part of our stripes. No matter how dark it gets, we can always turn to see the light.
Our restlessness can lead to a unique kind of stubborn egotism, thinking and being utterly convinced we are right (Ox, Horse, Dog, and Goat do this as well). Tigers are unchallenged in the wild; they have no natural predators. We are flustered, confused, and bewildered when challenged, for in the end, Tigers are sure they’re right, and we’re going to do what we want, and we’re probably not going to change our minds. It is difficult to convince us otherwise unless we can adopt things as our own idea, like in the movie Inception. Because of their strength, Tigers usually want to dominate situations, be in charge, which can come across as aggressive, egotistical, and overbearing.
Finally, the Tiger’s dignity and deportment can lead to tremendous vanity and pride. Tigers can be very concerned about their appearance and the opinions of others, although we’ll never admit it. Tigers are very sensitive to criticism and rejection and can be wounded deeply by others if we do not possess a strong sense of self-love/self-possession.
As you can probably tell, I have a love/hate relationship with my Tigerness, which is classic Tiger. It is classical that Tiger Qi is difficult, so I’m not making this up. Studying Tiger Qi has been a personal revelation.
Many of the qualities I do not like about myself, that I wish I could change, I find written in plain English in two dollar paperbacks on the 12 Animals. The suggestion of Chinese Astrology is that our Qi Character does not change. I must learn to live with my impulsiveness and find the best way to “go with it,” channel it, and express it for the benefit of others.
Tiger Qi is an immense capacity when it is trained and focused. So I am grateful that I have had a strong sense of self-discipline and a spiritual path since I was young. This has done a lot to temper by extremely Yang/Aggressive Character. I must insist, too, that I am a Fire Tiger, which is like a “teenage” Tiger. Fire Characters have a perpetual teenage angst. Wood Characters are forever children, Fire—teenagers, Earth—adults/mature, Metal—middle aged, Water—elderly. Since Wood feeds Fire, the Fire Tiger is particularly explosive and traditionally seen as good cannon-fodder.
The Earth Tiger would be the most grounded and stable, the Metal Tiger the most disciplined and refined, the Water Tiger the most dramatic and morose, and the Wood Tiger the most natural and at ease with their impulsiveness. Fire Tigers are a handful, so I tip my hat to my peers, born in the lunar year of 86.
Of course, this can be tempered a lot by the hour. A Tiger born in Pig, Rabbit, Goat, any of the Yin Hours, can be softened a great deal in terms of the basic Tiger expression. As I go through the 12 Animals, remember that we have Four Pillars. The Year is primary, but we also have a Month, Day, and Hour.
I hope you enjoyed this exposition of Tiger Qi. Next up, the Tiger turns to the Rabbit!
Let me be honest—of all the 12 Qi Characters, I find Ox the most difficult to express. I often find myself stumbling to communicate the energetic experience of Ox to my clients, and often it comes out sounding negative. Perhaps, this is because I’m a Tiger, and as I will write about in my next blog, Tiger Qi is a rebellion against everything the Ox stands for, energetically speaking. Every astrologer, every person, is limited by the bias of their character—it is the lens through which we view the world. Naturally, with self reflection, our Four Pillars are available to us, and so they are the easiest to understand. But a Tiger can never become an Ox.
That being said, I know many Oxen. My father is an Earth Ox, and one of my childhood best friends is a Wood Ox. I entered kindergarten a year early, so many of my peers at school were Wood Ox, which makes a lot of sense to me in hindsight, for I never fit in, and many of my friends were also weirdo Tigers who didn’t fit in.
We herd children together, and school teachers (if they’re paying attention) should recognize that every year’s batch of kids is different, and yet each group is similar. So I was herded in with the Oxen, and although I find Ox Qi rather incomprehensible, I am intimate with it and will do my best to transmit the experience.
In many ways, the Ox is a symbol of China, for if China is anything, it is perseverant, and its traditions are enduring. China and the Ox represent the virtue of the heroic preserver, the continuity of Tradition. I am amazed that I am sitting here expressing a continuity of wisdom over 8,000 years old, a wisdom just as relevant and profound today as it was in ancient China.
In the scheme of the 10 Heavenly Stems, this continuity of tradition is represented by the Ox and its Native Element Yin Earth (which is also the Native Element of the Goat). The Chinese character for Earth contains two horizontal lines, representing a surface and a deep sense of stability.
There is no Earth season in Chinese Astrology, for Earth represents the continuity, the ground beneath the changing seasons. The symbol of the Ox, then, related to Yin (rather than Yang) Earth, expresses the strength of the plow animal, shaping the Earth beneath us.
China was one the world’s greatest agricultural societies, and the Ox was the main event which made this possible. The Chinese attempted to domesticate the Mongolian Horse for hundreds of years, but the wild nature of the Horse could not be made to plow. The Ox Clans brought the Ox up from the swampy regions of southern China, and as soon as they attached reigns to it, they were amazed to find the Ox walked in straight lines, plowing even furrows with no goading.
Farmers could let go of the reigns, and the Ox would plow forward, turn around, and come back on its own. Because of the Ox, China’s agricultural productivity increased exponentially, and in a few centuries China became the most successful and wealthy society on earth. The Ox was always then associated with the rewards of consistent hard work and the Confucian value of perseverance in what is right.
The Ox embodies a natural (Yin) strength achieved through gentleness rather than aggression. The western image of the gentle giant comes to mind. In Asia, it is not uncommon to see children fearlessly running side by side with these enormous animals. Oxen are strong, but they are not aggressive, and this is a valuable symbol for interpreting Ox Qi.
China and India are the world’s oldest continuous civilizations, but India was more or less invented by the British. Before British colonial rule, India was incredibly diverse and never consistently unified. The past 500 years of foreign rule in India forced the many subcultures of South Asia to unify, creating a melting pot responsible for what we now call “Hinduism.” Furthermore, India kept awful historical records, so studying anything Indian is questionable and often dubious.
China, on the other hand, was a Chinese invention, the intentional unification of 80 or more separate cultures into Dynasties that endured for over 2500 years, passing on a consistent and coherent tradition. China kept some of the most detailed and precise historical records on Earth. Of course, the continuity of this tradition was destroyed in the Cultural Revolution, but thankfully, due to the Ox like nature of China, we can have at least some confidence in the Chinese Tradition, which was preserved in places like Taiwan.
In order to really understand the nature of Ox Qi, we must look to the Tong Shu, the Chinese Calendar. The Ox rules the 12th Moon, the dead of winter and the hour 1-3am. Ox exemplifies the still, silent, calm, and slow power of winter. In the cycle of the day, Ox represents the middle of the night, the time of deep sleep, rest, and rejuvenation.
Everyone knows they should be asleep from 1-3am. Qi wise, this is the time of day when we are most apt to fall into deep sleep. Even insomniacs can fall asleep during this hour. The tendency of Ox hour is to draw us deep into the dark, silent, still, calm, and peaceful nature of “don’t know.” During Ox hour, you should be like a catfish, hidden in the murky depths of your unconscious.
Ox Qi is therefore described as sedate, sleepy, calm, stable, which is reflected in the Ox Character. Ox is the wisdom of thoughtlessness and steadfastness. In China, Oxen are also associated with Kwan Yin, the goddess of compassion and wisdom, because of their peaceful and gentle nature. In India, the Cow is revered and worshiped as a symbol of nourishment and the abundance of the Earth.
So the first quality of Ox Qi is calm, in the modern parlance “chill.” Ox is by nature easy going and relaxed. This easy going nature comes from the symbol of the Ox’s size and strength—not much can kill an Ox. They are not intimidated or scared easily. Their strength is unquestionable and therefore unhurried, unrushed, natural. Left alone in the wild, Oxen tend to just stand around eating grass, but when put to work they can do anything. Ox Qi, Yin Earth, is grounded and steady. Qi wise, this comes out as a kind of natural dignity, at home in their self and skin.
In terms of the Five Elemental Oxen, the Wood Ox would be the least grounded Ox, and my Wood Ox friends would probably identify the least with the following exposition.
The natural strength of the Ox demonstrates as a kind of self-assured confidence. Oxen tend to believe resolutely (and often unconsciously) that their way of seeing the world and their way of doings things is normal. “Doesn’t everyone do that?” or “this is the way we’ve always done it” are very Ox statements. In the Classical Tradition, this is often described as “conventional.” Even the strangest Oxen I have known do their strangeness in a conventional, consistent, and dependable way. Most of them think their strangeness is normal and can be perplexed when others do not share their views.
This confidence often demonstrates as being just and committed. The Ox is a symbol of the Confucian values of family, society, and nature, which are fundamentally rooted in equality and the fair distribution of resources. Oxen often possess a strong sense of justice, which makes them good leaders. Oxen are natural born leaders and are at their best when in charge and constantly challenged.
Ox are the most likely to receive criticism for being “stuck in their ways,” for not growing/changing/improving/etc. That being said, the consistent and dependable nature of the Ox is natural and the least apt towards innovation, which is not to say they are not creative. It is detrimental to expect an Ox to change based on abstract notions of self-improvement. Their wisdom comes from their consistency, and it is harmful to force them to change—they won’t. The Tiger, then, is the opposite—we’re always changing, and it is a disservice to expect us to be consistent.
The calm nature of the Ox often expresses as quiet and reserved, but this is not always the case. I have known plenty of extroverted Oxen. That being said, Ox tends towards a kind of “sleepiness,” which can be literal. Oxen are often champion sleepers and can cure most illness with deep sleep. They also possess a strong physical constitution by nature and are long lived, rarely taken out by illness or injury.
Ox Qi is unflappable (my favorite word in the English language btw) and “thick skinned.” Of all the Characters, Ox (and Pig) are the least likely to be traumatized. Ox Qi has a tremendous capacity to undergo hardship and difficulties and come through unscathed. The difficulties my Father has faced would have probably killed most people, but he came through everything with wisdom.
Despite the calm nature of Ox Qi, they are tenacious and uncompromising. It is the nature of the Ox to work, to plow forward, to lead, and to take on responsibility. They need tasks, and they need to be constantly challenged, otherwise their strength is wasted and stagnates.
They often have a strong work ethic and lead lives of great accomplishment. By nature, they are dependable, reliable, consistent, punctual, and so on, all characteristics of Yin Earth—the manifestation of smooth, steady, even Qi. Although they are often materially successful, they usually lack attachment to material things because they are self sufficient and don’t need much.
As a work animal, the Ox is independent and yet carries others. Oxen are not usually loners however. They do not rely on other people but rather others tend to rely on them; they are protectors. They take it upon themselves to do things for other people and rarely ask anything in return. The independence, strength, and conventionality of the ox cause them to assume responsibility for everything. They can see it as their mission to carry others and the world on their shoulders.
Recently, I was working on a school project with some lab partners, and we collectively made a mistake. Immediately, our Ox partner assumed the blame and saw the situation as her fault, apologizing for letting the group down. We assured her that we were all responsible, but her reaction was to assume leadership as if she carried the group. This Ox tendency while natural can be heavy for Ox characters, generating problems and hardships in order to demonstrate their strength.
Ox Qi is also loyal and supportive, sometimes to a fault. It is hard to get on the bad side of an Ox, and if you become a jerk they probably don’t notice. Once they accept others, they usually do so for life and will protect them until the end. Sometimes, they can stay in difficult situations for a long time out of duty or responsibility.
Oxen tend to be outdoorsy and at home in Nature. The natural element of Yin Earth lends to a deep connection with nature and a desire to connect to the wilderness and seek refuge in solitude. I have known many an Ox with a strong sense of adventure.
Finally, Ox is sincere, humble, and often sweet, sometimes naive. The image of the Ox is a gentle doe eyed cow. Generally, Oxen are honest and straightforward and not mysterious or confusing in their intentions. They mean what they say and are always sincere in their beliefs and efforts.
Of course, when discussing Qi Character we must look at the virtue displays, but we must also look at the constricted qualities of the same virtues. This is the basis of Astrology as a wisdom path.
Ox Qi can tend toward a kind of seriousness, and Oxen tend to grow up very fast. They often miss out on childhood and become children later in life, especially the Fire Ox. This seriousness can also turn sullen, depressed, and even humorless. Oxen are, perhaps, the most susceptible to “toxic seriousness” and their experience can become very heavy and downtrodden (Wood Ox being the least susceptible).
The heavy and dense quality of Yin Earth can turn to a kind of insensitivity and thoughtlessness. Many of the Oxen I know have been accused of being oblivious, unaware, and clueless. Oxen tend to “not notice” things, people, situations, and they can hurt or offend others by become aloof and dull.
The routine, conventional, and consistent qualities can easily get “stuck in a rut.” Oxen possess an immense capacity to do the same old thing, and they can become slaves to their own conventions—physically, mental, spiritually. Their confidence can be quite convinced and unwilling to change. Furthermore, they can be fearful of change and resist the messages of others for a long time.
Oxen can be ruthless is crossed. As I mentioned, it is hard to get on the bad side of an Ox, but when you do, they can become belligerent and hold grudges for a long time, fixated in their opinions about others and situations. They can have a difficult time letting things go, bringing up the past, repeating patterns of negativity, stuck in a loop. Once drawn into confrontation, Ox Qi can be a scary and formidable adversary (Hitler was a Fire Ox!).
Finally, they can be too strong for their own good. If they are not challenged, they can use their strength to deplete themselves without noticing and break down in old age. Or they can generate problems and challenges where there are none and become their own worst enemies.
All that being said, Ox Qi has a tremendous capacity for resolving Fate. I am always impressed by Ox characters, and I have been blessed to know many in my life.
If you want a great model for Ox Qi, look at Obama—classic Ox (Metal Ox if you’re curious).
In these brief expositions, I can only hope to give you a taste of each Qi Character as a basis for self-reflection, and I want to insist that I am talking about patterns of energy and how they tend to manifest in people. The qualities of Ox Qi, and all Qi Characters, are found everywhere in nature, and in the end, we are talking about Time. Ox is a pattern in Time.
Remember, Astrology is the study of Time, and the View Teachings say that we express the natural tendencies of whatever pattern displays in the cyclical procession of Time. Rat Qi turns to Ox which turns to Tiger.
Stay tuned next time for my exposition of Tiger Qi, which happens to be my Qi Character.
A famous Chinese story describes a contest set by the Buddha, or sometimes the Jade-Emperor of Daoism—a race to determine who would be the first Animal in the Cycle of Time. At the end of the race was a mighty river. Ox was the only animal strong enough to cross. Rat small yet clever jumped on Ox’s back and jumped off his nose just in time to cross the finish line first. Rat won the honor of first in the cycle, and the Character of Rat, Rat Qi, came to represent the wisdom, virtue (te), and resourcefulness of all things small.
Of the 12 Zodiac animals, some are small and some are large. The differences in size symbolize the Chinese view that strength comes in all sizes, and that every perspective is valuable and has a proper place. As a cycle of View Teachings, the 12 Qi Characters are a study in perspective and represent 12 (or really 60) ways of viewing the world. We find wisdom through learning our own perspective in contrast/relation to others. The tallest rat will never see the world in the same way as a Horse, so which perspective is correct? The question is of course meaningless—both are valid and describe different perspectives. Rat Qi represents the perspective of little creatures, the most “zoomed in” quality of life.
The Natural Element of the Rat is Yang Water—the power of the weak, the yielding, the adaptable, the soft, the pliant to overcome all obstacles, like water carving the Grand Canyon. Water may be weak, but through diligent perseverance it carves canyons, and in great mass, waves devastate. This is the Yang Water nature of Rat Qi—the paradoxical strength of weakness.
But do not let the image of smallness fool you, Rat Qi is anything by “mousy.” Rat Qi is definitely Yang, and the power of the Rat is ambitious and unstoppable like water. Yang Water also represents synthesis, sentiment, sensitivity, reflection, cooperation, persuasion, and effectiveness, among other virtues.
Of all the 12 Animals, I find people most dismayed to find out they are Rats. This is due largely to the image of the Rat as a rodent, a vermin, and a carrier of disease in Western culture. In Asian cultures, the Rat has a much different image, one that I would like to encourage.
The Rat of Chinese Cosmology was well known to farmers as the “Grain Rat.” Grain Rats would appear with the harvest, and so in Asia, the Rat has always been associated with prosperity, wealth, resources, and with the rewards of diligent hard work. In many forms of Asian Lore, the Rat is the God of Wealth, and Rat Years in Asia are considered auspicious and expected to be profitable in every sense of the word.
That being said, the symbol of wealth is important and often glossed over. People are all too quick to associate wealth with money, especially Americans. Understanding wealth, however, is essential to understanding Rat Qi. What is wealth? In short, wealth is resources—material, food, energy, land, intelligence, etc, and money is an abstract symbol measuring these tangible/demonstrable realities. And why are resources important to the Rat? Because they are tiny.
Individually, Rats are small and not very strong, and so they always appear in groups and work together to mange resources to their advantage. Together Rats can undermine an entire building by gnawing and nibbling away at the foundation piece by piece. For this reason, Rat Qi represents the fact that all humans must make alliances. Alone, we can’t do much, but together, we can accomplish anything.
In the Chinese View, individuals are pretty much redundant. It is only through alliances that we do anything. No person ever did anything great. Period. Our culture exalts heroes, saints, sports stars, and so on, but all sports heroes play on a team. So Rat Qi is the antithesis of American Individualism, for it views social life as central to existence and represents the human virtue of community in the most basic sense. Sociability is required to survive, and no person is special. This is a “Rat realization. Rat Qi, in a sense, stands for the little guy, the underdog, the meek, and the unacknowledged, and it abhors the abuse of the strong over the weak. The Character Piglet from Winnie the Pooh represents this virtue of the small, and there is a popular book on this very subject.
Because the Rat is small, it must band together with others, and it must value resources. Rat Qi represents a fundamental insight into the nature and value of “things,” appearances, stuff—the resources that compose the world. And in order to work with resources Rat must take them apart. Not to analyze (that’s Rooster), but to make it small enough to carry.
Rat Qi represents the most “zoomed in” quality to life—the Rat is very close to everything and sees how everything works, how everything is composed, sort of like a magnifying glass or microscope. The impulse to “zoom in” in order to understand is a Rat impulse. The impulse to take apart, dismantle, and dissect are also Rat impulses, again not to analyze but simply to observe, look closely, and take in the details. Modern science is very Rat, and I in fact know many Rat scientists. Academia, in general, is very Rat like, especially the kind that involves footnotes.
Rat Qi probes, inquires, and studies in order to make sense of the overwhelming amount of data we perceive through the senses. Rat power breaks everything down in to bite sized manageable pieces. This ability allows for incredible “productivity” in the Western sense, and as such, Rats are very capable.
A recent trip to India was mostly being organized by Tigers (myself included), and of course, like all things run by Tigers, we had great vision and inspiration but terrible follow through. As soon as our Rat friends Wendy and Kanika joined, all the pieces came together and everything, little by little, was organized. They made the trip happen in a way I could not even comprehend. For me, this was a great lesson in Rat Qi. Wendy saw everything in pieces and was able to manage the variables amidst the chaos of India.
Every Character has their place—Tigers need the little bits managed so they can be enigmatic, so they can shine and dazzle and then disappear. If things were left to Tigers, we would have amazing creative visions, but little would ever happen. Tiger Qi throws out a hundred big ideas, but Rat Qi narrows everything down to something we can actually do. Rat Qi makes the world go ‘round as a kind of engineering force discovered through observation and activated from of a kind of nervous compulsion. Rat Qi sees that everything is constantly falling apart, and someone needs to pick up the pieces.
Rats (the animals) tend to have big bulging eyes, and they make short, quick, twitchy movements. Rat Qi has a nervous quality due to its constant observation, evaluating safety, taking stock.
The observant quality of Rat Qi applies to all areas of life. Rat’s acute observation makes them incredibly studious, industrious, clever, and insightful. In essence, Rat Qi is the wisdom of the compound nature of things, that everything is composed of pieces ad infinitum. This wisdom communicates that everything compound is impermanent, which is the source of Rat’s power and fear.
Seeing into the compound nature of everything, Rat Qi seeks to work with reality as it is which can turn fear into insight. Yang Water when depleted clings when things fall apart, but when energized it can actively let go, Water representing dissolution and Yang being the active principal.
Rat Qi represents the beginning of the Cycle emerging from Pig Qi, which is why I began with Pig. If Pig represents complete dissolution, everything falling apart, Rat Qi represents everything coming back into fragments, still dissolute but active, the dust cloud settling, and everything coming back into focus, starting over. Pig is the final blowout, the party, the big bang, and Rat is left to pick up the pieces. Pig parties through the night, and Rat picks up the beer bottles and cigarette butts the morning after. Rat Qi can therefore manifest as a kind of hard boiled responsibility to “clean up” the world.
Rat Qi, embodied in individuals, is first and foremost charming. As astute social observers, Rats make fantastic actors, mimics, and they love being center stage, especially when they can play at being someone else. Other people are resources, so Rat charm is a kind of social power and is often their greatest resource in life. Rat Qi is fundamentally social/community oriented and cooperative but more in the sense of making things happen than out of pure enjoyment. That being sad, Rats are fun loving and funny, and they often possess a rye kind of wit derived from their social observations.
Rat Qi is and methodical and “detail oriented.” Many of the professions we value in our culture are very “Rat.” Engineering, accounting, “I-T,” consulting, what we can call information work, anything that requires manipulating data, money, or numbers, moving around bits and pieces, filling out spread sheets and forms—all of this is Rat work, busy work, and it goes to show that our culture actually exalts and highly values Rat Intelligence, which is incomprehensible to some Characters. Math and the sciences—chemistry, physics, biology, and western medicine are also very Rat like, what we can call reductionist disciplines.
Rat Qi revels in detail. And although I have mentioned science and math, Rat Qi can be wonderfully artistic. Rats can spend hours painting and penciling in details, focusing in and fleshing out pattern, shade, and texture. A famous architect once said, “God is in the details;” this is a very Rat sentiment. Shakespeare, in theory, was a Rat, and he invented thousands of words by taking existing words apart and putting then putting them back together in new formations, words like auspicious, sanctimonious, and multitudinous. Shakespeare also exemplified the poetic nature of Rat insight.
Rat Qi also exemplifies the Chinese Virtue of industry, diligence, and perseverance. Imagine you’re on a long journey and come across a mountain in your path. Some characters might go around; some might climb to the top heroically overcoming obstacles; some might wax philosophical and never go anywhere. Rat Qi might get a shovel and carve a path through the mountain one shovel-full at a time. You may laugh at such an approach, but Rat Qi can actually move mountains in this fashion.
At its best, Rat Qi is diligent and patient. Perhaps your family lost everything in a war, exiled to a foreign land with nothing. So the family bands together and starts a small dry cleaning business. For three generations the family perseveres and eventually builds back their fortune. This is Rat work ethic—eventually the little things pay off. Since Rats are famously discrete and frugal, they can manage resources, money, and make a little go a long way.
As you can imagine, the virtues of Rat Qi have their opposites. Rat charm and social observation can turn to nervousness and complaining, seeing endless faults and problems in themselves and others. Rat Qi can be self-conscious, worried about appearance, nit picky, and overly critical of details.
At its core, Rat Qi is very susceptible to the fear of impermanence, deficiency, and loss, which can turn to a panic over resources. This can turn to scheming, manipulating situations, people, things, money, and so on, in order to create safety, security. This can also turn to stinginess and selfishness, and Rats are often stereotyped as hoarders, living in clutter, developing strong attachment to possessions.
Rat can turn cowardly, afraid to take risks. Rats can easily become overwhelmed with details and so become paralyzed, over analyzing and never taking action. “But…wait!” is a very Rat response.
Rat Qi can feel small in a big scary world. Alone Rat Qi is vulnerable. Without a nest--resources, friends, partners, family, or a support system, Rats are at their weakest and can wander, felling lost and depressed.
Rat Qi when charged can be an immense ability to focus, but depleted, the close in quality of Rat Qi can turn fidgety, restless; it can turn to over-concentration and a racing mind, endlessly thinking, reevaluating, second guessing, a kind of mono-focus or tunnel vision that can obsess.
Because Rat Qi is fragmented, Rats have the ability to compartmentalize their experience. They can put memories, feelings, thoughts, emotions, and so on into categories and boxes. If traumatized, this compartmentalization can become detached, unemotional, and unable to connect to whatever they lock up.
The fundamental impulse of Rat Qi is to make sense of the world. Rat Qi represents active dissolution, characterized by Yang Water, what we can call “activated impermanence,” a primal fear which can easily turn spiritual, and I have met many Rats with a strong spiritual bent. Rat spiritual insight awakens through deep observation, breaking down appearances. Buddhist Logic, I find, is a very Rat like spiritual discipline, teasing, taking apart concepts and ideas in order to show their relativity.
This observant quality of the Rat is available to all of us every Rat Month, which is in the beginning of winter, every Rat Day, and every Rat Hour, which is between 11pm and 1am. Rat Hour is the most active part of the early night, a time when we dissect and tease apart the fragments of the day in dream.
I hope you enjoyed this exposition of Rat Qi. Stay tuned; in the next installment, I will explore the nature of Ox and Yin Earth.
The Chinese Tradition uses animals to communicate complex ideas and has since the beginning of their culture. The first important clan to take charge among the myriad tribes of East Asia was called the Bear Clan, and most tribal people associated with a particular animal as their Ancestral/Tribal symbol. Animals were a common part of everyday life; everyone was familiar with them, for certain animals have lived with humans since forever.
The Ox, for example, has been happily domesticated for over 12,000 years. So it is not a stretch to think of a person in terms of an Ox. The Ox Clan, perhaps, came from the swampy regions of southern China and was the first to domesticate the ox/water buffalo and so identified with them. The history of the Chinese Animal Zodiac is really a connection to our human nomadic, tribal, shamanic, and agricultural history which is far, far older than anything we know today. Humans and animals go together because humans are animals.
The Chinese Astrological vocabulary settled on 28 Animals to represent the constellations of their lunar cycle. For example, I am writing this on the day of the Leopard Constellation, and there was once a Leopard Clan. Among these 28, the Chinese eventually settled on 12 as iconic. These twelve animal characters eventually became the 12 Earthly Branches, which are well known throughout the world.
I have been reluctant to write about these because so much has already been written. Most books on Chinese Astrology cover the 12 Animals and not much else. And while most of these books are fine, they are often too general to be helpful, and they often focus on the Animals solely in terms of personality traits. I think I can do a little better.
I have already explained the significance of Qi Character in my New Year’s blog, so rather than repeat myself, I will simply jump in. And rather than focus too much on personality, my goal here is to describe the essential impulse that characterizes each of the 12 Animals as well as describe them in terms of human characteristics. Of course, I as a Tiger, so I interpret the 12 from a Tiger lens. But to the best of my ability, I would like to describe these as I have come to understand them.
I often describe Qi Character as a kind of impulse, a pattern, a set of tendencies that can manifest as a wide variety of personalities. Of course, not everyone born in an Ox year has the same personality. But Chinese Astrology would say everyone born in an Ox year would have the same character, meaning you all share something in common.
Each of the 12 Animals has 5 elemental flavors, which can make them quite different. The 5 Tigers, for example, are very different. So there are 60 all together. In order to get to 60 though, first we have to understand the basic impulse of the 12. If you want to know what makes your Elemental Qi Character unique, get an Astrology Reading.
Usually, the series begins with the Rat, but since that has been done to death, I would like to begin from the end with Pig in honor of Liu Ming, who was a Fire Pig. I was born under the House or Pig Constellation, so although it is not part of my Qi Character, Pig is my totemic protector and has a lot to do with who I am.
Pig (Hai) Qi
The Natural Element of Pig is Yin Water—dissolution, death, collapse, return, resolve, completion, the end, and in my eyes, it makes sense to begin with the end for the very reason that there is no end in the Chinese View. No start makes sense without stop. Liu Ming once described the Western notion of death as annihilation to his Daoist teacher, and he replied, “stop…you stop! Tell me, how do you stop?” In other words, the very meaning of Cyclical Time is that nothing stops, everything cycles, but things do appear to stop because they have to in order to appear to start, relatively speaking. And Pig Qi is the expression and character associated with this dissolution into “don’t know.” In order for things to appear fresh and new, they must appear to come from nothing, from “don’t know.”
Our fear of death could be allayed if only we could remember our Immortality, but if we had to remember our past lives, this life would seem an insufferable bore. So in the cycle of time Yin Water, Pig Qi, is the dissolution that allows for wonder and newness.
What is the nature of things as they fall apart and dissolve? Turns out, it’s a celebration. The Pig Character in the Chinese View, despite being characterized by Yin Water, by this dissolution, is the party animal. Pig is the party at the end of the cycle, the warmth of homecoming and the gathering around the hearth.
The Chinese written character for home includes the character for Pig, and of all the Characters, Pig is considered the most domestic, associated with the comforts of home. Wealth in Chinese culture was often measured by the number of Pigs you owned, for Pigs were the mainstay of the Chinese diet, along with cabbage and of course rice. Pigs are seen as “the great transformers,” able to turn garbage into sweet white meat.
The wild boar mother is considered one of the fiercest animals alive, for she is the only animal (besides humans) who will sacrifice her life for her children, hurling herself in front of Tigers and the like. As such, Pigs are considered the ultimate protectors, associated with the power and wrath of the feminine—the energy of momma bear, and originally the Pig was related to the Bear in Chinese Cosmology, associated with the Big Dipper and the House Constellation of the Northern Palace.
Pig Qi itself, embodied in human individuals, is this impulse to let go, to release all conceptualization (Metal) into direct experience through the senses (Water). In one sense, Yin Water represents emptiness, but it does so in the Buddhist sense as the emptiness of our concepts, not our direct experience. The experience of Pig Qi, then, is actually the fullness of life beyond conceptualization. Pig Character seeks fullness/completion through the senses. Our senses offer us the most direct experience of life; our body is how we know reality.
Pigs, then, see and experience everything material, physical, and manifest to the senses as art, as food, as the reason we come into being. If you were to ask a Pig—why are people born? They may respond—food! And this is not shallow. Perhaps the only reason the universe manifests is so you can enjoy the taste of ice cream. Losing yourself in the moment is a Pig moment.
If no one was looking, a Pig might lick a book rather than read it, and in doing so they would probably get just as much valuable information , for they are the most apt to understand reality through the senses. From the Pig Qi perspective, the complete experience of our senses is realization of the Dao because the senses generate the world.
Pig Qi sees the fullness of the manifest world as art, as food, as something to be devoured, savored, and enjoyed. Pig Qi revels in music, food, dance, clothing, painting, and the emotions/feelings they inspire. Pigs collect material items and derive great power/sustenance from them, for objects are not mere symbols but energy. Pigs, therefore, are sensuous Characters who make great chefs, artists, musicians, lovers, and parents/nurtures. Liu Ming was a great chef and devoted much of his life to food as art and medicine, at one point owning a restaurant and a catering company and later teaching Daoist Dietetics.
The key word for Pig Qi is honesty. The direct experience of our senses beyond thinking is a kind of honesty. We all wish we could let ourselves enjoy without guilt, but so many of us do feel guilty when we indulge. We overthink, justify, and strategize when it comes to our senses. We “treat” ourselves for hard work, as if enjoyment must be earned through suffering. Pig Qi is enjoyment without guilt. If we’re truly honest, we all want to eat and screw, and sometimes that’s just fine. This honesty manifests as plain-speaking, confessing to deep sensual desire, seeking simplicity. Enjoyment is human honesty.
Pigs Qi is blunt and to the point, yet it is also caring and compromising, like a grand-mother who wants to see everyone happy. This grandmother energy of the Pig is associated with the family, and Pig Qi is the very symbol of family life. As part of the “domestic trine,” alongside Goats and Rabbits, Pigs are often homebodies who would rather throw a barbeque and socialize than be alone and meditate. Pig Qi is gregarious; it enjoys people and relating to others, especially through enjoyment. So Pigs are often fun loving and fun seeking.
Because Pigs want everyone to be happy and enjoy themselves, they are among the most tolerant and accepting of Characters. Pig Qi (and Ox Qi) is the symbol of tolerance, and so Pigs are often very humanitarian, unselfish, and interested in human rights and dignity. Yin Water, the end of the cycle, has seen it all and done it all and so accepts everything in totality and just wants to have fun.
This accepting quality of the Pig is a form of generosity. Pig generosity would give you the shirt its back. As the end of the cycle, Pig Qi represents everything being let go of, given away. If a Pig had only one bowl of soup, they would most likely divide it up and give away spoonfuls so everyone could taste it. And they really want you to taste it and enjoy it in the same way they do. When describing themselves, Pigs may very well describe their favorite food, let’s say strawberries, and in tasting that strawberry, you taste them. Ming once described a fellow Pig he met travelling who kept a journal of all the desserts he tried in each country, for to him these tastes represented the quintessence of his experience.
This sensuous nature of the Pig is not stupid however. Pig Qi is the height of eloquence, for they experience words, ideas, and symbols too as food and art, and they revel in finding delicious ways to express and say things in the hope of evoking deep feeling in the body/heart. Liu Ming was like this; he was a gifted speaker, and his talks invoked deep experiential rather than conceptual understanding, as if his wisdom came directly from unmediated experience. Liu Ming was also a great comedian who spent most of his life giggling. Pig Qi is naturally funny, and their humor comes from their honesty. Being honest with ourselves about our selfish desires should make us laugh, and laughing at ourselves is high wisdom.
Pig Characters are naturally spiritual, for Pig Qi and Yin Water represent the fluidity, interconnectedness, emotion, and empathy associated with the profundity of chaos, death, and dissolution beyond reckoning. Pig Qi represents the headlong charge into letting go, giving everything away into direct experience. It represents the pure compassion of a wise grandmother, hosting the chaos of youth.
Pig Characters are often unstoppable and have a unique kind of aggression. Their fierce and protective character lends to a hardworking nature that stops at nothing to get what it wants. That being said, this struggle feels heroic to the Pig because they share the rewards of their struggle with others and give everything away for the greater good. Pigs often start out aggressive and end up heroes.
So far I have been describing the virtue qualities of the Pig, what Pig Qi expresses when it is charged and unrestricted. In astrology sessions, I usually describe the basic qualities of each Qi Character, followed by their elemental influence depending on the year, and then I usually finish by describing their challenges. When we are happy, harmonious, and healthy, we tend to express virtue qualities. When we are depleted, unhappy, and out of balance, we tend to express the more constricted qualities of our Character. Often the depleted Qi qualities are the inverse of each virtue.
Pig’s natural experience of the senses can lead to self-indulgence. The image of the Pig is often associated with overeating, and in our culture calling someone a “pig” is very specific. This revelation of the senses and the nature of Yin Water can lead to drugs, drink, risky sex, and depletion through hedonism and self-destruction.
The artistic and sensual nature can also become an addiction to comfort and luxury as well as a kind of flamboyance, spending money thoughtlessly on material objects and finery. This comfort seeking can turn to lethargy, laziness, and aimless loafing. Pig Qi is well represented by the character Pig-Pen from Charlie Brown, a disheveled kind of dust cloud associated with a lack of care.
The desire for material objects can also turn greedy towards a selfish secretiveness that strives to get what it wants so it can indulge.
The generous, accepting, and loving nature of the Pig can easily turn to gullibility. Pigs are the most likely to trust and can be easily duped, likely to give everything away to the first stranger with a sad story. Their honesty expects honesty, and so Pigs may believe everything you tell them. And they can be generous to a fault, giving everything away until they have nothing.
Pig tolerance can turn to long suffering abuse. Known as “great transformers,” out of all the Characters, Pigs (and Oxen) can take the most abuse and are likely to stay in bad situations for a long time, especially in domestic situations, and especially because they love so deeply and want to help their abuser. That being said, Pig Qi can handle anything without trauma because Yin Water lets everything go. The Great Transformer can turn any difficulty into enjoyment and humor, and Pigs are able to laugh at the most difficult situations.
Finally, the eloquence of the Pig can turn to what is commonly known as “Pig Headedness.” Pigs can be forceful, aggressive, argumentative, and can hold very strong opinions. Their honesty in speech can also get them into trouble, for they are likely to say anything despite the consequences. Liu Ming in his own words often “shot from the hip,” and he was quite ruthless in his straightforwardness.
Although I have described Pig in terms of characteristics, I want to insist again that this is Qi, which is time in Astrology. These descriptions and any of the 11 that follow represent the patterning and expression of Qi during specific time periods. These qualities of the Pig are available for everyone during Pig years, months, days, and hours. Pig Hour is between 9-11 pm and is the time for relaxation, sex, and sleep, all very “piggy” experiences. And this time of day naturally tends towards these activities; it is common for a party to begin in the Pig Hour, for example.
A person born during Pig Years and Hours naturally express these qualities, but Pig Qi is available to everyone.
I hope you enjoyed this exposition of the Pig. Stayed tuned for the next in the cycle when I examine Rat Qi.
Tiger's Play--the View Teachings of Chinese Astrology
This page is your source for short, pithy articles on the view teachings of Chinese Astrology. Here, I will share everything I have learned about how to follow Astrology as a spiritual path.