A herald of the Aquarian Age, Ram Dass, stated, “Across planes of consciousness, we have to live with the paradox that opposite things can be simultaneously true.” Although one always wants to counter the temptation of assuming intrinsic meanings in the course of evolution, it is difficult to resist the belief that one of the central messages of our time—as world views, religions and civilizations clash—is that paradox seems to be built into the nature of things. Moreover, as we throttle through a time of significant change, those that will thrive will be able to live with the unsettling proposition that “opposite things can be simultaneously true.”
As Eric Meyers suggests, paradox is not only indicative of the astrological Uranus, but it is a major thread that runs throughout this book. From the subtitle to the concluding page, Uranus: The Constant of Change is fraught with the disconcerting higher truth that opposites and contradictions are interwoven into the cosmic condition. Though it is true that an emphasis on paradox is bound to appear in a study of Uranus, the prominence placed on paradox found in Meyers’ work is more the result of his thorough and thoughtful treatment of this astrological archetype. Meyers admirably takes us from Uranus’s manifestation in the individual, to the collective, to the transpersonal. Additionally, Meyers doesn’t succumb to the easy lure of viewing Uranus either as solely a malevolent, destructive force that threatens the ego’s need for constancy and security or as a purely positive energy, sprinkling creativity, liberty, vitally, and vibrancy in the wake of its magic wand. This breadth of scope and depth of understanding leads to one of the most comprehensive works devoted to any one astrological symbol.
Since Meyers presents a complete mandala of the astrological Uranus, one could simply use certain sections for one’s individual pursuits: As a tool for inner exploration, a guide for predictive trends, or a starting point in historical or biographical research. In honoring Uranus, you are free to use this work as you wish. However, a full appreciation of Uranus (and of this work) can really only come from the number of vantage points that Meyers has constructed. And with a thorough reading of Uranus: The Constant of Change, you will perhaps arrive at one of the book’s greatest paradoxes: In order to understand how the astrological Uranus works through you as an individual, you must fully know and understand how Uranus impacts other individuals, historical cycles, the collective, and, in Meyers’ words, the “intelligence of nature” itself.
A book on Uranus is the perfect vessel for Meyers voice, which, as he has established with his previous works, is full of novel connections, verbal gymnastics, and stylistic improvisations. Perhaps this natural fit between the subject matter and author was the result of accident and whimsy, whereby the choice to write this book was merely the outcome of the author’s inspiration and imagination. However, if there is any truth in the maxim declared by many astrologers—“You do not pick astrology; astrology picks you”—then perhaps we can extrapolate the same logic and assume that Meyers’ original impetus to pen this book was not solely personal but “picked” by the transpersonal force that is the subject matter of these pages.
Individuals who are awake realize that the winds of change are set to blow, making the publication of this work prescient as well as instructive. However, rather than become a manual to navigate the “psychospiritual weather conditions” of the current time, Uranus: The Constant of Change should provide a wealth of material and insights beyond the current cultural climate and become a resource for astrologers, or the astrologically curious, in times to come.