On Aries Season, The Spring Equinox, & The Right to Be

A journey straight to the heart.

On Thursday, March 20th, the Sun moves into Aries and welcomes us into Aries season, along with marking the Vernal Equinox for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere. Spring has officially sprung today, and with it dawns a new season, a new beginning, and the pioneering promise that it’s time to embark on our true potential.

The term “zodiac” refers to a “circle of animals,” and thus, there really is no true starting point. Any sign in the zodiac holds within it an ending as well as a beginning. Yet still, Aries is the sign we most often associate with the astrological New Year. It is a sign of emergence—a place where the dreamy mist we found in Pisces can be distilled into purposeful action. Caution and second guessing take a back seat to instinct and impulse here; and if you aren’t in touch with whatever it is that sparks your fire, now’s a great time to say hello.

I’m the kind of person that is such a planner, I barely know what an impulse feels like anymore. I imagine it to be an energy similar to the striking of a match. It takes a little friction, but the result is just enough fire to do something meaningful with. As a cardinal, fire sign, Aries energy has a lot to do with initiation. It takes a tremendous amount of courage and will to create fire out of nothing at all.

The War Within

As a way to participate with the incoming Aries energy, I recently revisited The Bhagavad Gita—an ancient Hindu scripture that I originally read when I did my yoga teacher training a few years ago. The story is set in the context of a great battle, where a young prince, Arjuna, is hesitant to fight in a war against members of his own family. He is filled with despair, pity, and confusion at the task before him. Overcome with grief, he sits down in his chariot in the middle of the battlefield, refusing to fight.

Arjuna expresses his hesitancy to Krishna, his charioteer who also serves as a sort of spiritual incarnation of divine wisdom. Krishna then spends most of the epic sharing Hindu wisdom with Arjuna, elaborating on the importance of action. He reminds Arjuna:

You have the right to work, but never to the fruit of work. You should never engage in action for the sake of reward, nor should you long for inaction. Perform work in this world, Arjuna, as a man established within himself—without selfish attachments, and alike in success and defeat (Easwaran, 2000, p. 13).

As the story continues, Arjuna’s confusion transforms into understanding. Krishna is able to remind him of the importance of fulfilling his duty while releasing his attachment to the results. And eventually, Arjuna rejoins the battle, committed to carrying out his calling as a warrior.¹

Reclaiming the Right to Be

I don’t know if it’s my own stuff or the overwhelming worry I feel about the state of our current sociocultural climate, but I’ve been swimming in a despair lately that reminds me of Prince Arjuna’s original state of grief. One that, at times, has me pretty convinced that there’s nothing I can do to make a positive impact on the world. Often when I feel like it’s time to take a new risk, self-doubt creeps in and convinces me that I’m not yet ready for the task before me.

My fear of failure and inadequacy has been one of my own lifelong battles—one which feels appropriate to lean into in a discussion of Aries. Recently, I had a particularly emotional therapy session that had me questioning if I was really strong enough to handle the chaos of my internal family system. As my sweet little heart sank deeper into a hole of doubt, I became immersed in a sea of internal voices begging to be heard. I truly felt like I was drowning in my feelings.

So, I’m writing this from a tender place, and I think that vulnerability may be another clue to some of Aries’ wisdom. Though Aries has a reputation for being a fighter, there’s actually something quite sensitive about the space from which we wage some of our greatest battles. Like a tender eternal child, Aries energy seems to carry the essential naivety that’s required to keep exploring who we are. We need to treat it with a sense of softness and honor its delicacy. And I think we lose it if we become too attached to who we expect ourselves to be.

In the Bhagavad Gita, Arjuna specifically doesn’t want to fight because he fears the result. Sometimes avoiding action seems better than the unpleasant experiences of failure, rejection, or disappointment. But as Arjuna struggles, Krishna’s wisdom focuses on the root cause of Arjuna’s despair: his attachment to outcome. Krishna makes no promises that the fruits of Arjuna’s actions will lead to some ultimate victory. Instead, he re-focuses him on the true task at hand, which is to act solely because he is called to act. Being a warrior is simply who he is. Here, Krishna gives Arjuna something that I feel like is too often missing in our society: permission to just be.

I’m learning to surrender my attachment to the old versions of myself that I once expected to become. There seems to be a new journey ahead of me, one that’s as fresh and new as an incoming Spring. Trusting this path is hard work, as it requires me to find my own heart in a sea of doubt and fear. That’s why the Aries journey is nothing short of heroic.

So if the next few weeks brings you in touch with something prickly, something hot, or something that feels impossible, perhaps you’ll consider the battle laid before you with a new perspective. Some of our greatest challenges provide the terrain from which we begin to know our greatest truths. And if you’re committed to the process, scary as it may be, a new version of you will emerge. One that has just as much of a right to be here as anybody else.

With love and wisdom,

Sunny

1. Easwaran, E. (Trans.). (2000). The Bhagavad Gita. Nilgiri Press.