Before explaining why I have diverged from Shamanic Astrology and the Turning of the Ages Mystery School in how I mark the start of the Venus cycle, I want to acknowledge my teachers, Daniel Giamario and Cayelin Castell. Their pioneering work during the early to mid-1990’s reintroduced the synodic cycles into modern astrology. They linked the entire approximately 584 day Venus Cycle to a mythic framework outlined in the Descent of Inanna from ancient Sumeria. This framework informs most of the structure for the Venus Cycle you’ll find on this website and in the Venus Cycle Dates.
Beyond the reintroduction of the synodic cycles, Daniel and Cayelin introduced me to the night sky. I learned to understand how it works, to recognize not just the constellations, but the arc of the ecliptic, to viscerally understand the moon’s nodes and their relationship to the eclipses, to grasp the slow slippage of alignment that causes the constellations to shift over the course of millenia from their ancient seasonal alignments. I came to see the flat wheel of the astrological chart as both a clock and a map of the sky. Most astrologers never make the connection between the abstract representation of the chart wheel and the living sky overhead, nor make a direct personal relationship with the luminaries while standing out under the sky. It was an extraordinary education.
But some students innevitably diverge from their teachers, and I seem destined to find my own way. I trust that this particular divergance–why I don’t use the heliacal rise of Venus as the start of the Venus Cycle–won’t seem too strange to most astrologers.
Venus’ Heliacal Rise
TOTAMS (Giamario) and Venus Alchemy (Castell) anchor the Venus cycle around Venus’ heliacal rise when Venus suddenly becomes visible in the eastern sky before dawn, launching its eight-month period as the Morning Star. Many ancient cultures held rituals and celebrations or even went to war upon Venus’ heliacal rise, and relied upon this observation to rectify their calendars. Using Venus’ heliacal rise aligns with the Earth-based observer type of astrology that both Daniel and Cayelin have championed for decades. The visceral power of the experience when you see it in person, the ceremonial and practical importance it held for millenia, the weight of the heliacal rise of various stars for many different peoples across antiquity–all of these form the heart of their argument for using this moment to mark the beginning of the Venus Cycle.
The first time I saw Venus’ heliacal rise was with Daniel and a group of Shamanic Astrologers in the Tucson desert. We had to wake up before 4 am. It shone so fiercely it was hard for me to believe it had been invisible the day before. It felt like a portent.
But I’ve always struggled with Daniel’s rationale for using the heliacal rise to mark the beginning of the Venus Cycle. It turns out that it’s very difficult or impractical to publish dates for when the heliacal rise will occur as a witnessable event. TOTAMS doesn’t say, “Go out in the predawn of such and so a day and you will see Venus’ heliacal rise.” This is because the exact date varies based on the observer’s latitude and other local viewing conditions such as horizon lines and weather. So, they cast a chart for the moment when Venus reaches ten degrees separation from the Sun using astrological software.
It’s a pretty reliable rule of thumb–Venus’ ten degrees separation from the Sun. But these charts often come up with times of day when Venus isn’t visible at all–midnight or afternoon or whenever Venus makes its exact ten degree separation from the Sun. For me to figure out when I can witness the heliacal rise, I’ll have to make an educated guess. If I want to be absolutely sure I don’t miss it, I’ll go out for several mornings in a row before the date and time of Venus’ ten degree separation from the Sun. As you can see, the ten-degree chart’s relationship with the actual moment of the heliacal rise for me in my location is a bit abstract, which to me somewhat undermines the direct participatory argument.
Venus’ Conjunction with the Sun
But the arbitrary nature of an astrological chart cast for Venus’ ten-degree separation from the Sun is only one reason I have chosen instead to use Venus’ exact “inferior” conjunction with the Sun to mark the beginning of the cycle. This conjunction, when Venus passes between the Earth and Sun while moving retrograde, occurs with precise regularity during every Venus cycle. It is differentiated from the other conjunction Venus makes with the Sun when it passes behind the Sun from our perspective during its “superior” conjunction. Both conjunctions are extremely important, but the inferior conjunction when Venus makes its closest approach to the Earth resonates with beginnings.
I have instead chosen to use Venus’ exact inferior conjunction with the Sun to mark the beginning of the cycle.
First and foremost, the inferior conjunction between Venus and the Sun most closely resembles the New Moon. Each month, the Moon passes between the Earth and Sun, going invisible as it passes through the sun’s glare. We mark this as the beginning of the moon cycle. We describe the New Moon as a time to plant seeds. Why not treat the Venus cycle in the same way?
Beyond that, the inferior Sun-Venus conjunction packs an energetic punch that is hard to ignore. This alignment is typically accompanied to the day by a sudden shifting of gears, or the beginning of a new major project or area of focus, particularly for those who will experience a Venus Return during that cycle, something I experienced before I made the decision to part company with Daniel and Cayelin on this point.
While we cannot witness the Sun-Venus conjunction from Earth because the Sun’s brilliance interferes, neither is it in any way arbitrary. The Earth-based observer cannot see the alignment, but thanks to modern astrophysics, and the mathematics of orbital dynamics, we can know with precision the exact moment of the conjunction. These days, the software for looking it up is easily accessible online for free. And unlike the heliacal rise, the conjunction does not vary based on latitude or local conditions. In short, the alignment is perfect.
Synchronicity: As Above, So Below
I find it interesting that the popular availability of astrological software which allows us to easily calculate the conjunction without needing to observe it coincides with the popularization of Jung’s concept of synchronicity, and with physics’ very public struggles with quantum entanglement and other notions of simultaneity.
Daniel Giamario has always maintained that astrology doesn’t work through cause and effect. The planets don’t cause change, their motions coincide with it through the Hermetic principle of “As above, so below.” Likewise, we don’t need to see Venus line up with the Sun to begin a new Venus cycle. Instead, a new Venus cycle can be understood to begin at the same time that the Sun and Venus align, although the alignment is hidden within the fierce glare of the Sun’s brilliance.
In the end, I believe that both methods are valid, the heliacal rise particularly for ceremonial purposes, and especially for the whole Morning Star phase. But my planners use the inferior conjunction of Venus and the Sun to mark the beginning of the cycle and to define its overtone. For that reason, the 2025-2026 Venus Cycle carries an Aries overtone with my method and a Pisces overtone with theirs. Likewise, the 2026-2028 Venus Cycle carries a Scorpio overtone for me but a Libra overtone for TOTAMS.
Anyone tracking the Venus Cycle today would benefit from watching for the rise of the Morning Star and casting the chart for the first moment they see it in the east. An advanced project might precisely track the heliacal rise of Venus in your location across multiple cycles, working with the charts for those moments, trusting that your observation will be perfect for you through the power of synchronicity.
