Astrology and the Journey of Self-Discovery

Visit Ashton K. Arnoldy’s website to learn more about his astrological consultation practice: https://www.micr0k0sm.com

An abridged LLM summary (edited for accuracy):

Matt opens by noting that Ashton has been studying astrology far longer than he has, having encountered it as a teenager, whereas Matt only stumbled into it later during graduate school while studying under Rick Tarnas, the author of Cosmos and Psyche. Matt reflects that he hadn’t initially planned to study astrology at all—his goal was to learn the history of philosophy—but through Rick’s teachings, particularly on planetary archetypes, he absorbed a significant astrological perspective. Matt’s primary interest has always been less in practicing astrology per se and more in understanding it historically, as a lens into the evolution of consciousness and forms of participation. He points out that in ancient times, the spheres we now separate into science, art, religion, and politics were all woven together in the study of the heavens—a compactness evident in prehistoric mythology and temple architecture.

In the modern world, astrology has become popular again, often filtered through a psychological lens, thanks in part to the Theosophical revival in the 19th and early 20th centuries. Matt invites Ashton to share how he first encountered astrology and why it spoke to him as a teenager.

Ashton recounts that his initial exposure came even earlier, growing up amid 1990s and early 2000s media saturated with zodiac symbolism—the Sims video game (where synastry affected character interactions), Lisa Frank stickers, and a general atmosphere of magical thinking. A neighbor who was like a sibling to him first introduced him to the signs, and soon their group of friends all knew one another’s zodiac signs. Astrology already felt resonant then, not as a formal system but as a living experience of friendship and distinctiveness.

Later, on Myspace in high school, Ashton rediscovered astrology through compatibility features that linked friends’ zodiac signs, sparking a deeper interest. Clicking around online, he found his natal chart—probably through Cafe Astrology, like many millennials—and had the now-familiar experience of feeling “observed” by something larger, as if his inner world was mirrored by the cosmos. From that point, astrology became a daily part of his life.

Matt notes that Ashton’s initial connection to astrology emerged from interpersonal resonance—understanding friends, himself, and feeling seen by the universe. Ashton agrees, adding that at the time he was also rebelling against the rigid Christianity he grew up with in Arkansas. While he called himself an atheist, it was more a cultural rebellion than a genuine negation of the divine; he had always felt a hunger for meaning.

Matt asks when Ashton first began speculating metaphysically about the cosmological context of astrology. Ashton recalls that during high school, as he lived and breathed natal charts and transits, a deeper sense of cosmic connection returned to him—something childlike and pre-materialist. Experiences with psychedelics and meditation reinforced this sense of mystery and wonder. Gradually, his experiential encounters seeded deeper philosophical questions.

They discuss the inner skeptic they carry, and the prevalence of skeptics in academia. Matt reflects on how, even when astrology resonates deeply, there’s a part of him—culturally conditioned—that feels embarrassment at taking it seriously in a scientific age. He muses that astrology could be seen not just as “wishful thinking” (“Wouldn’t it be nice if the cosmos knew our soul?”) but also as something terrifying, an exposure of our inmost being to cosmic transparency.

Matt shares Becca Tarnas’s helpful metaphor: a natal chart is like a musical score—capable of varied performances rather than dictating one fixed meaning. He asks Ashton how he relates to skepticism, both internally and when encountering doubters.

Ashton responds that his relationship to skepticism evolved over time. In his intellectual punk undergrad scene, he realized the importance of understanding the history and philosophy of astrology to ground his practice. He sees astrology as fundamentally participatory: confidence in it comes from lived, receptive engagement, especially through observing transits. He also questions skeptics’ unexamined presuppositions about knowledge, subjectivity, and the cosmos—most operate within a default materialist worldview without realizing it.

Matt connects this to Owen Barfield and Rudolf Steiner’s idea of our current “Consciousness Soul” epoch: we are alienated, desperate for reconnection to cosmic meaning, but must guard against surrendering our freedom to external systems like astrology. He warns against treating astrology as a deterministic map rather than as a flexible guide.

They pivot to ancient understandings of astrology. Ashton, studying with Adam Elenbaas at Nightlight Astrology, shares that in ancient times, people didn’t identify with their charts the way moderns often do. The spirit was seen as eternal, transcending the chart, which was merely an image of one’s “lot” in a given incarnation. Astrology originally emerged as divinatory—context-specific readings of meaningful moments—not generalized personality typing.

Jeffrey Cornelius, Ashton notes, emphasized astrology’s oracular roots in The Moment of Astrology. Ancient astrology was not deterministic; practices of divination and magic imply an openness to negotiating fate. Divinatory participation presupposes a cosmos alive with significance, not a closed mechanical system.

Matt observes that in ancient times, astrology was more collective, with natal charts often reserved for kings. The focus on individual souls came later, with the rise of interiority, climaxing in the modern psychologization of astrology. This shift from collective to personal fate represents both a profound gain in individual dignity and a risk of narcissism and egoic inflation.

Ashton adds that today’s clients often come to astrology seeking affirmation of personal success, but ideally, a reading fosters aesthetic appreciation for one’s participation in the cosmic whole—not just ego inflation.

Matt then raises the question of astrology’s statistical validation. He acknowledges some efforts to correlate planetary transits (like Mars with wars) but ultimately feels that astrology is a semiotic, hermeneutical, divinatory art—not a science in the conventional sense. Ashton agrees, emphasizing that astrology speaks through symbolic participation, not mechanical causality.

Matt brings in Charles Sanders Peirce’s triadic semiotics: meaning arises through a triad of sign, object, and interpretant. Without the interpreter, astrological meaning cannot arise; thus, statistical approaches risk missing the essence of astrology.

Ashton reflects further: mechanistic materialism abstracts from living experience. Mathematics is itself a frozen image of something originally alive. Astrology’s roots, whether in tropical or sidereal systems, reflect living traditions, not arbitrary constructions. Drawing on Barfield and Steiner, he suggests astrology can help reconnect us with the cosmic intelligence gradually internalized in human consciousness over millennia.

Matt echoes this, emphasizing that from a participatory cosmological perspective, mind and matter were originally undivided. Consciousness didn’t “emerge” from dead matter but was always implicit in the unfolding cosmos. This perspective makes astrology coherent in a way materialism cannot.

They return to the ritual, participatory dimension of astrology. Matt emphasizes that astrology isn’t a “belief system”—it’s a practice, a reverent ritual relationship with the cosmos that could help heal our cultural alienation.

Ashton shares his excitement about launching his astrological consultation practice after years of study: Micr0k0sm. Recent work with Hellenistic astrology, Project Hindsight translations, and Platonic cosmology have given him confidence in the rationales behind house systems and zodiacal structures. He hopes to engage clients through a living, oracular encounter that attunes both astrologer and client to the cosmic whole.

Matt celebrates this move, likening the astrologer to an archetypal thermometer—taking the collective temperature of a time through individual consultations. Ashton references Dorian Greenbaum’s work on the daimon in astrology, emphasizing that true astrological consultation channels a meeting between spiritual presences, not merely egoic selves.

Finally, Matt ties back to Plotinus and Neoplatonism: the planets are not causes, but signs. Astrology, properly understood, reveals symbolic resonance rather than mechanical determinism.

Ashton concurs: astrology is a technology for attuning to the Logos, a cosmic mandala of meaning. He stresses that interpretation must remain open and flexible—the same symbol can have multiple, even opposite meanings depending on context.

They close by reflecting on the mystery that remains in astrology: it is both a ritual practice and an opportunity for cosmological research, illuminating but never exhausting the wonder of our participatory cosmos.