This final thrust into Aries puts us in his hot and heavy innards, where we watch the gladiator fall and see where he lives on in each of us.
In Part 2, I called Aries out on his stark, self-inflicted injustice. The short n’ dirty version is that he tries to do everything but honor his heart, which is where Aries pumps out his best energy that has both momentum and mileage. The heart is Aries‘s torchlight, the fire that lets him go the distance without droppin’ dead in the process. If Aries can learn to love and lead with his feelings, he’s a champ.
Stopping never means dropping everything altogether — usually, it’s takin’ that blasted break. All the missed breaks start to add up and build tension for Aries; inflating the already-present and relentless pressure to cross the finish line. Nothing is ever enough. No achievement, no relationship, no sex or vacation. No “sign” knows depression like the Mars sign. For Aries, depression comes from both insufficiency in the intimate arena and the need for self-fulfillment or meaning from personal action. This personal action can swoop in dressed as a mountain-moving ambition or a late-night obsessive cleanup after a long work day. Where there’s massive energy and action, there’s burnout.
Here’s the secret to actual physical depression: unused energy saps and drains energy.
Psycho-freaks (I’m not exempt from the title) love linkin’ depression to the planet of obvious “cold realities,” Saturn. Prescribe those vanilla-tailed bunnies a good hard lap in the Aries stadium to meet the red-horned devil of depression: Mars. The limitations of life (symbolized by Saturn) only haul an energetic deficit to the fore of a person’s daily awareness.
For Aries or Mars signatures, burnout can happen from a hot little combo of overused external energy (pushing yourself too hard) and more importantly unused emotional energy.
Aries has so much energy that he couldn’t possibly live it all out even juggling three jobs or winning the Olympics. He may not grasp a simple fact about himself: Physical energy doesn’t satisfy his internal, emotional energy. In this way, the best conduit for Aries could be something like drama or dance, because his real energy is emotional. He needs to embody not the energy or task, but the emotion.
Frustration, anger and aggression only happen when Aries isn’t embodying his emotions and experiencing the connection of — to use Sam Reynolds’s word — a “witness” to it. Aries doesn’t want attention for the sake of attention. He more rightfully desires to direct the attention of others to his purpose. No matter what he believes his purpose to be, Aries‘s one true purpose is one of emotional honesty. This mission masquerades under the shallow flag of “personal authenticity”. Let’s get real: Authenticity only comes from the innards.
Emotions are what we tie to creatures of the animal kingdom, believing we’re somehow above or past the urges of our insides. Countless ailments and chronic clinical conditions develop from this basic self-neglect. Aries is, as the face of the new world, the face of this movement. He can end up opposing or denying the emotional womb he blasted out of. When disappointed or dismissed by others, he becomes a vessel for anger, his natural passion turning into cynicism. A hurt Aries feeds himself the bitter lie that he doesn’t need others or is better off alone. This couldn’t be farther from his reality.
Ironically and perhaps tragically, Aries is usually least willing to see his energetic nature as emotional — just like he’s loathe to admit his need for people, and even moreso, for intimacy and love (though he feels the bite of it). Aries runs ten miles on the treadmill and wonders why he feels so low. This sign needs creative performance more than the stereotypical Leo, who needs more creative expression, with or without the action component. For Aries, movement is vital. Aries is the first and last vestige of the deep coursing lava; the raw primal fires — the animal instincts — we have.
This is not something to be thrown out, ignored or shamed. In our world of mental supremacy, where the average man is lost in a techno-labyrinth of artificial design, we need to honor the primal fire even more. It’s what gives us warmth, enjoyment and love. The basic urge to live out the emotions needs to be stoked — before it dies out completely, taking man himself along with it.
Aries embodies this modern dilemma. He often feels out of place, a dinosaur in the age of shallow noise and beeping gyms. The Aries man — the leader turned slave turned gladiator — usually takes this feeling and the circumstances surrounding it as his destiny. He subscribes to notions of being a “lone wolf,” an eccentric or too exceptional to connect with others that fall short of his skill, smarts or gumption. The Aries person in this position can look more like a melancholic than a child of the enthusiastic fire, or act like an egotistical ass.
Buried under both misplaced expressions of this sign is the need to be seen, felt, and loved. Aries, the independent action-taker, always needs another soul to bring him to where he beats best and hardest. But once that sucka’s there, you start learning from him. Do you know an Aries person, by Sun, Moon or Ascendant that could use a hug? (Or emphasized Mars, for the astro-savvy!) If your Aries won’t honor his heart himself, you’ve got to step in. Don’t wait till death-by-combat to honor the gladiator’s worth. Honor him today.