When the Snake Swallows the Sun

Eclipse in the Forecast

Another eclipse season begins a week from today, and you don’t need a background in astrology to sense that these are ominous events: we’re talking about our sources of light being shadowed and the world growing dark.

Still, a glimpse into the origin myth behind the eclipse helps flesh out the picture some. The following is from the seminal Churning of the Ocean myth.

Once, after eons of war, the devas (divine beings) and their nemeses, the asuras, agreed to a truce in order to a potion of immortality called amrta. They had to put aside their age-old grievances and cooperate in order to get it: they were instructed to churn the ocean of milk until it emerged from the frothing, lactic waves. So it was that they wrapped a giant snake around a mountain, grasped both ends and set to churning.

Many things came bubbling from the waves that we won’t go into that here. A horrific poison nearly engulfed the earth at one point, until the fearful devas awoke Shiva. He swallowed the stuff, saving the day and burning his throat blue for all time. The churning continued.

Finally, after much trouble, the sought-after nectar emerged.

The devas, however, had no intention of sharing the prize with their enemies. Instead they enlisted the services of Vishnu, who at the crucial moment gave himself the most alluring female form ever known on heaven or on earth, all to distract the asuras as the amrta was being distributed. While the asuras oggled, the devas sipped.

One asura was not to be fooled, however. A serpent-demon named Rahu saw what was up and, disguising himself in turn, took a seat between Sun and Moon in the line of devas awaiting their share of juice. The Sun and Moon noticed something was amiss, and tattled on the snaky fellow in their midst, at which point Vishnu promptly flung his discus at the demon and severed its head—but not before a drop of the good stuff had passed Rahu’s greedy lips.

Rahu thus became severed in two, yet became immortal as well. His two halves live on, head and tail, both sworn to vengeance on the luminaries who ratted him out. Every chance they get, Rahu and his other half, Ketu, swallow up the Sun and Moon, in the celestial events known as eclipses.

A Thai depiction of Rahu swallowing the Sun. Note the incense - this is an active shrine, for shadow forces, too, command respect—and require appeasement.

So it is that themes of betrayal and revenge are woven into the nature of eclipses—times when the light of the soul (Sun) and the emotional intelligence (Moon) are shadowed by the base forces represented by the lunar nodes, Rahu and Ketu, who are associated with violence, polarization, trauma and obsession (along with innovation and originality, it must be said: even shadow forces have their bright side).

Astronomically speaking, eclipses come in pairs: a lunar eclipse at the full moon (when the earth is between the sun and the moon, so that the earth’s shadow falls on the moon) and a solar eclipse at the new moon, when the moon’s shadow falls on the earth, blocking out the sun). These events occur two weeks apart, and this two-week window is the heart of what’s meant by ‘eclipse season.’

Not every eclipse is total; this depends on the geometric alignment of sun, moon and earth. The last total solar eclipse we saw here in the US was in summer 2017, during the presidency of Donald Trump, at a time when American society was more polarized and volatile than at any time in recent memory. (Trump himself was born under an eclipse pattern, as befits such a polarizing and shadowy figure.)

The most recent eclipse season occurred last October 2023, more or less coinciding with the onset of the current flare of tragic and retributive violence in Israel/Palestine. Without going into political analysis, the signature of the nodes (Rahu-Ketu) is discernible in the amount of polarization, chaos and confusion surrounding these events.

Well. Our next eclipse season begins with the lunar eclipse next Monday 25 March, and culminates with the solar eclipse two weeks later, on Monday 8 April. Its path, taken together with last October’s annular eclipse, will form an ‘X’ over the state of Texas, site of rising tensions at the Souther border. (Texas is also the site of civil war in director Alex Garland’s upcoming film by that name, a film in which Texas and California secede from the union and trigger a second intra-US war. Let’s hope this the film’s influence proves more prophylactic than prophetic—but another astrological transit, the United States Pluto return, does not necessarily serve to reassure.)

As it happens, April 8th is also the start of the new year in the Vedic calendar. This calendrical convergence mixes the portents of an already difficult “krodhi” (wrath-filled) year with those of an eclipse. Not an ideal recipe, unless it’s volatility you’re seeking. See this post by fellow jyotishi Juliana Swanson for an in-depth forecast.

So, what to do about all this seemingly scheduled mayhem?

Perhaps it’s only we Americans, with our pluck, our can-do and our naiveté, who are inclined to take the question as anything but rhetorical. In Nepal, where I spent a couple of formative years, ke garne (“what to do”) is a common utterance, but not one anyone is expected to answer.

Eclipses are a fact of life, as are deception, betrayal, polarization, confusion and violence. This isn’t to be fatalistic: efforts at harm reduction are noble and can help. But as long as life goes on, some amount of chaos and upheaval is part and parcel. The best defense is sometimes in knowing when the chaos pot is like to be stirred.

During eclipse season the best most of us can do is to lay low. According to the wisdom of Vedic tradition in general and jyotish in particular, eclipse are especially bad times to launch a new venture, get married, buy a home, or make a major life decision. It’s considered unwise to view an eclipse—better to stay home and engage in one’s spiritual practice. In truth these are good times for little besides prayer, kindness, patience, forbearance, and taking the long view.

Keep calm, in other words, and do your yoga, whatever that means for you. I’ll post again soon on remedies for the nervous system, something most of us can use during these unsettled times.