My name is Trish Rooney, and I believe in astrology. Kind of.
If anyone cares, I’m a Gemini Sun, a Gemini Moon, and a Virgo Rising. This means that I’m not only moody and changeable, but very anal about organization.
Have I lost you yet? Do you think that this is bullshit? Maybe all that is bullshit.
However, something about astrology keeps bringing me back. Call it the need for a higher power, or the want to explain to people why I find myself in constantly changing circumstances of my own creation, but once I started looking in to my “birth chart”, deeper than just my Cosmo horoscope, I discovered just how deep your “star sign” actually goes. Fun fact, it’s not just about your birthday, it’s also about your birth time and where you were born; it influences your Sun, Moon, Rising, Mercury, you name a planet, your chart is influenced by it. It impacts how people first perceive you, your sexual and romantic styles, how you communicate, and how you think about social situations.
In recent months, I’ve found myself less in the minority when it comes to considering my horoscope deeply, and I’m not the only person noticing this change. In a google search for “why are millennials obsessed with astrology”, tons of articles come up asking the same question about the phenomenon: why is this generation so obsessed with what the stars are (supposedly) telling us? Is it taking the place of religion today? Are we trying to recreate the mystical in our scientific world? Or is it another millennial obsession, like millennial pink, or avocado toast, that will pass in the next round of fads?
In a study from 1982, it was found that people that consulted astrologers and psychics turned to them in time of stress, or when their relationships were turning sour. Perhaps this explains the need for astrology today: in our constantly changing, somewhat scary world, looking at what kind of dog you would be based on your star sign provides a small distraction from everyday life. Instead of focusing on the wider world and asking “why”, we can instead look inwards and ask why we are, and connect ourselves to the stars in the sky. There is something comforting about looking at the stars for guidance. I think of it as a call back to people generations and generations before us, who at some point have all looked up and asked about their place in the world.
Here at MUSE, I find that we create our own kind of galaxy; one of creative influence, of exposing talent, and of delving into what students are thinking and doing today. MUSE can’t tell you what type of dog you are, or what kind of pizza you should order next, but it can provide a pleasant or funny distraction, or an interesting perspective to start your day or your week. It’s a new year at MUSE, and regardless of how the stars look, or when mercury is in retrograde, we’ll be here no matter what. We can’t wait to see what our future holds.
Header image credit: aminoapps.com