I have to give Father Chase, my parish priest at St. Aloysius, credit for pushing me toward astrology, although he would be horrified if he knew. At fourteen, I was obsessed with the monthly Dell Horoscope magazine; not the in-depth articles, just the daily forecasts. I was miserable at home and wanted desperately to know if anything positive would happen to me.
I grew up in a wealthy Jewish community on the North Shore of Long Island; my parents were poor and Christian. My father worked as a short-order cook in an all-night diner; he was alcoholic and abusive. My mother was fragile and childlike and was slowly fading away; years later she would be diagnosed with schizophrenia. The magazine became my lifeline. Every month, I pored through the pages searching for some hope that I could grasp.
One day after Sunday school, I casually asked Father Chase his opinion of astrology. “The devil's work,” he replied harshly, not missing a beat. I was shocked by his rigid attitude and closed mind. I knew almost nothing about astrology (apart from the fact that I was a Taurus), but I decided then and there to put my faith in the stars and not the saints. My fate was sealed.
I didn't immediately begin studying astrology after my encounter with Father Chase, but astrology seemed to follow me like a song on the radio that kept getting my attention. My next rendezvous with the stars was in the mid-sixties when I was living in Italy. I wanted to travel, be a film star, and live like Holly Golightly (the protagonist in Breakfast at Tiffany's), so I moved to Rome when I was nineteen. It was the early 1960s, and the film business in Rome had exploded; it was a time of Fellini's La Dolce Vita, Spaghetti Westerns, and big, splashy American coproductions. I found steady work, traveled all over the globe, and met fabulous people, but my career never really took off. I had a love/hate relationship with show business, with Rome, and with myself as well. At twenty-six, I didn't have a clue about who I was, what I wanted to do, or where I wanted to live.
A conversation over lunch with the great screenwriter Tullio Pinelli turned out to be life changing. One day, my dear friend, director Alberto Lattuada, invited me to lunch at his home. He and Signore Pinelli were collaborating on a film script. Over lunch, Signore Pinelli asked me about myself. I explained my dilemma; whether to remain in Rome and continue pursuing a career in film or return to New York. Signore Pinelli suggested I seek the advice of a group of alchemists who lived in Turin, the industrial city in the north of Italy. They were great seers whose work was the basis for the Federico Fellini film, Juliet of the Spirits. Signore Pinelli had grown up in Turin. It had been his idea for the film, and he was also one of the screen writers.
He provided me with a list of their names and phone numbers, and in a few days I was headed north on the Rapido (express train) to Turin with all my belongings. I decided that if these wise men told me to stay in Italy, I would return to Rome; if they advised me to leave, I would go on to New York. It wouldn't be the first time I put my fate in the hands of total strangers. Unfortunately, I forgot it was mid-August and the Italian holiday of Ferragosto; everyone in Italy goes on vacation, including alchemists. All except one, an astrologer named Doctor Arno—Italians love titles.
I was mesmerized by Doctor Arno, who sat behind a huge desk surrounded by piles of mysterious books. After consulting one of these enormous tomes, which I now know was an ephemeris, he assured me that I had extremely good luck (molto fortuna) in Europe, along with many other fascinating bits of information. I knew he was right about my luck, but something told me that I needed to return to the States. Although I didn't know it at the time, I was experiencing my Progressed Lunar Return, which precedes the Saturn Return—a period when our intuition is particularly strong. I decided to listen.
Back in New York, I could feel something within me shifting, and I knew it was time for me to get serious. That happens at the Saturn Return at age twenty-nine. It's as if we get a wake-up call, and we're finally ready to grow up, make a commitment, and take on more responsibility. For most of us, our late twenties and early thirties is a time to stop drifting and begin doing; we sober up—sometimes literally. We can't train forever; at some point, we have to step up to the starting line and begin the race. Saturn is that starting line. It is the first major cycle and the foundation for all the others.
I longed to do something, but what? I was obsessed with two things: exercise and health foods. I considered opening either an exercise studio or a natural foods restaurant. The food won; I'm a double Taurus—Sun and Moon in the sign of warm scones and crème fraiche.
In 1974, I opened one of the first gourmet natural foods restaurants in New York City. Naturally, I consulted an astrologer about an opening date. I had no experience and very little money, but I had a vision for the kind of food I wanted to create, plus something else that would prove indispensable: Saturn. I didn't know a Saturn Return from a tax return, but that's exactly what was going on. I made a commitment, worked really hard, and hung in there. The restaurant became a success, and I grew in the process.
Most of us spend our early to mid-thirties building something: a career, a family, or perhaps going back to school. What's important is that we commit to some task and work hard to make it happen. In the process, we gain stature, credentials, and experience. There may even be financial rewards and recognition. It can be a heady time; on our own and no longer tied to our families, we seem to have it all figured out. That is until around the age of thirty-seven.
Cracks appear in the structures we've carefully erected, and they begin to crumble. We're approaching forty, almost halfway through the average lifespan, which is a wake-up call. And while this cycle is commonly called a midlife crisis, and can certainly feel like one, it's really a mid-course correction. Whatever we've left out of the equation, whatever we've ignored, begins to rise up and can no longer be disregarded. This cycle involves four planets and is spread over a decade. Welcome to life's most important cycle.
I had been running the restaurant for about six years, and it was doing well. Thanks to glowing reviews in the Village Voice and New York magazine, customers were lining up around the block for the small planet casserole, our popular salad dressing, and the peanut butter ice cream pie. Plus, I was learning a lot, not just about the business and food but about people and myself. Then, in my late thirties, everything came crashing down. I thought I was having a nervous breakdown; instead, it was midlife. Who knew? My father died, and, as a result, I inherited the responsibility of taking care of my mother, who was mentally ill. At the very same time, I had problems in the restaurant and in my relationship. Basically, all my worst fears surfaced at once; I was raw, panicked, and in tremendous pain. It turned out to be a giant wake-up call. Not only did I survive, but my life and my business transformed in ways I never thought possible.
I had always been interested in psychology and had engaged in a lot of therapy. During the seventies and early eighties, I began exploring various spiritual paths, self-help seminars, and healing techniques. I did est (Erhard Seminars Training), Actualizations, studied yoga, discovered spirituality in Findhorn (in Northern Scotland), studied A Course in Miracles, and got in touch with my power by walking over hot coals with Tony Robbins. Although I didn't study astrology, it was never far away. I had an astrologer on staff at the restaurant; I fed him in exchange for readings. At the time, I thought of astrology only in terms of predictions and was always asking the same questions: When would the current crisis be over, or when would I meet my soulmate? I didn't realize it was deeper and more complex. But I was about to find out.
In my mid-forties, I decided to open another restaurant. Unfortunately, it was in the Berkshires in Western Massachusetts: the area was extremely seasonal—super busy in the summer but dead in the winter months. Not only did I lose a ton of money, the situation put pressure on the restaurant in Greenwich Village. Yet it was during this period that a friend, whom I met in the Berkshires, lent me a book by astrologer Steven Forrest entitled The Inner Sky. Steven's book brought astrology alive for me; his descriptions of the planets, signs, and houses were clear and accessible yet poetic and deeply meaningful. I began to see that astrology wasn't something merely happening in the sky but was within us as well and could be a valuable tool for self-discovery.
The Chiron Return takes place between ages forty-nine and fifty-one, when Chiron returns to its natal place. In mythology, Chiron was a great healer and teacher, and this passage is one of the best times to become fully conscious of whatever has not been healed. For many of us, our lives take off in a different direction from what we had anticipated, and often there is a failure or loss that serves as a catalyst for this.
I experienced plenty of both, including closing the restaurant in the Berkshires and then the one in New York City. The restaurant had been my identity for twenty years; without it, I didn't know who I was. An old life was ending, a terrifying thing—especially for a stubborn Taurus—but a new one was rising up from the ashes. I began studying astrology in my early fifties, not thinking of it as a career but simply because it gave me joy. But eventually, a career is exactly where it led.
At fifty-eight, we have our Second Saturn Return and enter the phase of the elder. Don't confuse elder with older; not everyone has the privilege of becoming an elder and embodying Saturn. Just as in our earlier Saturn Return, we need a great work, something that will define us in our elder years. For many, this third act is a period when life really comes together. I know that was true for me.
I was already doing astrology readings and writing Sun-sign columns for a couple of magazines. Then, in 2000, I joined Steven Forrest's apprenticeship program. Not only was it was an opportunity to study with a master astrologer, but also to learn about Evolutionary Astrology, which is the basis for the astrology that Steven teaches. Evolutionary Astrology is not simply another technique but also an approach that is based on responsibility, freedom of choice, and a respect for people's ability to grow. For me, it provided a spiritual framework, one that is holistic and soul centered, and became the basis for my own astrology practice.
The planet Uranus takes eighty-four years to come back to where it was at our birth. In our early sixties, it makes the last aspect before returning to its original position. The Uranus square is really a second wind; there's a sense of freedom that comes from this edgy aspect, provided we are willing to take some risks and extend ourselves beyond our comfort zone. It's worth doing, because the actions we take now will impact who we become at eighty-four when Uranus comes full circle.
By the time I was in my early sixties, I was well acquainted with the life cycles. I was approaching my final Uranus square and, given that change-at-all-cost Uranus was orchestrating this cycle, I knew I needed to take a big risk. For me, that meant selling my dearly loved house on Long Island. I did it, and it brought me the freedom I had been craving. It was in my early sixties that I began to notice something else: I finally began to feel good. I mean really good—happy, content, at peace. There were times when life wasn't challenging, and I felt good. But happy? It wasn't even on my radar. As I began to study aging, I saw that this wasn't unusual. Providing we are willing to do the inner work, these late-in-life transitions offer immense opportunities to grow, develop, and deepen.
There was something changing in me, but also in the world. The whole concept of aging and the second half of life were shifting: old walls were falling and new paradigms were emerging. In the not-so-distant past, aging was a taboo subject; senior citizens were shunned and excluded from mainstream society. But the tide is beginning to turn. With the youngest baby boomer just past fifty and the oldest in their seventies, there are simply too many to ignore. In the 1960s, we had the youth quake; now we're having the age quake. Like any movement, it's not perfect; but there is a new awareness, a bigger conversation, and a growing respect for people who are in the second half of life.
Simultaneously, astrology was having a renaissance. It has always been popular, but thanks to the Internet—with its websites, articles, and blogs, plus easy access to birth charts—its popularity has exploded. The idea of writing about the cycles and aging began to come together.
Looking back over my life, I wish I'd had a handbook for these great milestones and some instruction on how to negotiate them. Like any journey or excursion, it helps to have some knowledge of the terrain, so you can prepare and pack accordingly. There's an advantage to learning from others who have taken the voyage and returned with some wisdom as well as tales of setbacks and successes.
When I first went to Europe in 1962, the popular guidebook Europe on 5 Dollars a Day was my bible. I studied it endlessly on those long train rides across Europe; writing notes in the margins while making plans and plotting adventures. The book you hold in your hand is the guidebook I wish I'd had while traveling through the generational cycles. It offers information but also inspiration about each decade; how to prepare but also prosper, thrive, and evolve in the second half of life.
I look forward to you joining me on this journey. You don't need any prior knowledge of astrology, but I have included an overview of the basics. It comes with a warning: astrology is seductive and can become addictive. You will enter a magical realm, one filled with mythology, archetypes, and stories that can capture your imagination, open your mind, and shake up your beliefs. No bad side effects have been reported. Astrology is simply another lens through which to view the world.