Unaspected Planets: Hidden Anger, Untamed Luck, and the Journey of Self-Discovery

Have you ever felt a powerful emotion erupt out of nowhere, surprising even yourself? Or perhaps you’ve experienced a sudden stroke of luck, arriving in your life as if on cue from the universe. In astrology, such mysterious surges of feeling and fortune can often be traced to unaspected planets in the birth chart. An unaspected planet is one that stands alone, forming no major angles (aspects) to any other planet in the chart. Unaspected planets operate in subtle, unseen ways – and their effects can be both profound and perplexing. They represent parts of us that lie in the shadows of consciousness, influencing our lives from behind the scenes. Understanding these isolated cosmic actors can lead to deep personal insights, helping us heal old wounds and harness hidden gifts. In this article, we will explore the unseen influence of planets without aspects, focusing on two vivid examples: an unaspected Mars (the planet of action and anger) and an unaspected Jupiter (the planet of luck and growth). Along the way, we’ll delve into how repressed energies can manifest as psychosomatic symptoms, and why self-knowledge – through astrology and psychology – is such a powerful tool for growth and healing.

Planets Without Aspects: Unseen Influences

In astrological terms, a planet is considered “without aspects” (unaspected) when it makes no major Ptolemaic aspects – no conjunction, square, opposition, trine, or sextile – with any other planet in the natal chart. Even a single major aspect can “anchor” a planet into the chart’s aspect network, so to truly count as unaspected, there must be none at all, or only negligible ones. For example, if a planet has only one major aspect but it’s very wide (beyond about 5° orb), or only connects to a slow outer planet (a generational influence), or is an unusual out-of-sign contact, astrologers may still treat that planet as effectively unaspected. Furthermore, only aspects between planets count toward this status – contacts to angles (Ascendant/MC), lunar nodes, asteroids like Chiron, etc., do not save a planet from being considered “unaspected”. By these strict criteria, an unaspected planet truly stands alone in one’s chart, not exchanging energy with any peers.

What does it mean to have such a solitary planet? Unaspected planets are often described as wild cards in the personality. Because they aren’t woven into the fabric of the chart through aspects, their energy tends to operate in a vacuum, without the usual checks and balances. The result is that an unaspected planet behaves in a highly unconscious manner: it “functions in a completely unconscious way,” as one astrologer notes. Its drives and desires come “out of the box” from a part of the psyche that the person themselves may not fully see. Thus, events triggered by this planet can feel inexplicable or even out-of-character to the individual. They might find themselves doing things or experiencing things that they “do not understand” – because the source is hidden below awareness.

An unaspected planet’s influence is subtle on the surface, yet it often produces many concrete events and surprises in life. It’s as if this isolated part of the psyche, untethered from the rest, periodically bursts forth dramatically to make itself known. In a natal chart, astrologers observe that “a thousand and one things” tend to happen around an unaspected planet. The person may feel that this area of life is a rollercoaster – unpredictable peaks and valleys – because the energy isn’t integrated smoothly with their other traits. In essence, an unaspected planet is like a hidden engine running in the background: quiet for long stretches, then revving up and driving events in a way the person might not consciously intend.

Mars Without Aspects – An Unconscious Fire

Consider Mars, the fiery planet of action, aggression, and assertive drive. Mars represents how we pursue what we want, how we express anger, and how we fight or defend ourselves. When Mars is unaspected in a natal chart, its fiery qualities can become an unconscious, almost autonomous force in the personality. The individual may not readily identify with their own anger or aggression – it lurks beneath the surface, unmoderated by other planetary influences, until it finally erupts. Unaspected Mars often symbolizes repressed anger and unpredictable outbursts. Because it has no easy outlets or harmonious links, this Mars energy can bottle up inside, operating stealthily. The person might even appear calm or conflict-averse on the outside, all the while tension is quietly building within. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, boom! – a sudden explosion of anger shocks everyone, including the person themselves.

As the lecture notes describe, this is what makes an unaspected Mars rather “sneaky.” Someone with this placement “may not fight all the time” – in fact they might go to great lengths to avoid constant conflict – but they accumulate anger internally. They can seem peaceful and composed, right up until the moment when the pressure can no longer be contained. Then “suddenly the explosion happens,” as the suppressed Mars energy externalizes itself all at once. In that instant, the anger comes out directly and with great force, catching everyone off guard. The chart we’re examining, for instance, clearly shows that this person “suppresses elements of his Mars” – holding back anger – which only increases the eventual volatility. Such a person might later wonder, “Where did that come from? Why did I react so strongly?” The answer lies in Mars operating unconsciously: lurking in the basement of the psyche until it suddenly bursts upstairs, “wrecks the house,” and then retreats back down below. This unconscious fire alarm can make the individual feel that their anger has a life of its own.

Mars in Leo and the Seventh House – Pride Meets Projection

To truly understand how an unaspected Mars plays out, we must consider its sign and house placement as well. In our example, Mars resides in Leo – a fiery, dramatic sign – and is placed in the 7th house of relationships. This combination adds distinct flavor to the Mars energy, coloring what triggers the outbursts and how they manifest.

Mars in Leo brings themes of drama, ego, and pride into the picture. Leo is the sign of the lion, brimming with creativity, self-expression, and a need for recognition. With Mars here, the person’s drive and anger are tied up with their dignity and need to feel respected. Conflict for a Mars-in-Leo individual often centers on matters of honor, ego, and being appreciated. They tend to have a strong creative drive and want to shine in their own domain – one might say they need a “stage” in life to showcase their talents and get validation for who they are. If life deprives them of a stage or an outlet for this creative, prideful energy, trouble brews beneath the surface. The lecture notes warn that when someone’s lifestyle does not align with the “basic demands” of their Mars (for example, if they live too small or suppress their need to express and perform), then the tension will start seeking a way out. In such cases, “autoimmune issues” and other stress-related symptoms may eventually emerge – the body quite literally rebelling because the Mars impulse (to assert, to create, to be somebody) is being stifled.

Pride is a double-edged sword here. On one hand, Leo energy gives passion, self-esteem, and a desire to do things with a grand flourish. On the other, it creates a sensitivity to humiliation. With Mars in Leo, anger is easily ignited by any perceived insult or belittlement. The person absolutely “does not want to be insulted” or made to feel small. In fact, being publicly humiliated or disrespected is one of the most intolerable experiences for a Mars in Leo individual. “The worst thing you can do to him is insult him in front of others,” the notes emphasize. This wounded dignity can provoke outsize reactions. Even a relatively minor slight – a offhand remark or a dismissive look – might set off an explosive episode of anger. It is as if the person’s psyche is saying: “I will not be diminished again!” The history behind this hair-trigger pride response may go deep, sometimes even into family lineage or past emotional wounds. There is a sense that previous generations or earlier life experiences involved being silenced or degraded, and now the unconscious Mars carries that unresolved anger, waiting for any excuse to surface. The result can be disproportionate reactions – “relationships that end in ruptures for no logical reason,” triggered by something objectively small. To the person with Mars in Leo, it does feel like a big deal: each new insult or critique rips open an old wound of **“They didn’t respect me… they made me feel small”. The anger comes out sometimes delayed and destructive, after simmering internally.

Now consider Mars in the 7th house, which is the sector of one-on-one partnerships and open enemies. The 7th is essentially the mirror in which we meet “the other” – and often, where we project parts of ourselves we can’t easily own. When Mars (anger, conflict) lives in the 7th house, the stage for battles is set in relationships. The person may consistently encounter partners or close others who mirror their own anger back to them. As the instructor notes, it’s very likely that this individual “attracts dynamic, aggressive, dominant types” in relationships, unconsciously seeking someone to carry the Mars energy externally. Such a person will often find a partner who embodies anger or assertiveness – effectively acting out the Mars quality that the person themselves isn’t fully conscious of. Inevitably, conflicts with others become the arena for self-definition. With Mars in the 7th, one “quarrels to define oneself through conflict with the other”. It is as if each argument, each power struggle with a partner, is serving a psychological purpose: to clarify Who am I? and Where are my boundaries? in contrast to you.

Ask yourself (as the teacher suggested to the class): Where is your Mars in your chart? “Look at where your Mars is among the 12 houses – you will understand what is worth fighting for to you,” she advises. For someone with Mars in the 7th, relationships are worth fighting for, or at least fighting in. They instinctively engage in battles with significant others because that’s where their Mars energy finds expression. There is often a pattern of interpersonal conflict, ranging from vigorous debates to full-blown arguments, that follows them in close relationships. Indeed, their partnerships might be characterized as “a constant verbal battlefield,” full of quips, retorts, and the exchange of harsh words. Mars in the 7th can make one’s words into weapons – debates and arguments become a way to assert oneself (and, in a Leo way, to win and have the last word).

The tricky part is that, because of projection, the person may not realize their own role in these conflicts. Mars in the 7th is operating in what astrologers call the house of projection. The individual instinctively sees the Mars traits (anger, aggression, competitive drive) in other people, rather than in themselves. “What’s the issue with Mars being in the 7th? He does not understand at all what he causes,” the teacher explains. The person truly might believe it’s always the partner or the other person who starts the fight, who has the anger problem, who provokes them. They see “the others coming at me”, not realizing that on some level they are attracting or even evoking that aggression. This is a classic scenario: “Everyone I meet is an a**hole,” the person complains, never suspecting that this pattern “says something” about their own unconscious Mars energy drawing out these experiences. We often find what we subconsciously expect to find in others. If someone deep down fears or anticipates being disrespected, they may inadvertently push otherwise kind people into the role of adversary – or gravitate toward those who will fulfill the expectation of conflict. In psychological terms, we create self-fulfilling prophecies; in astrological terms, the 7th house Mars projects its fiery shadow onto relationship partners.

The Open Wound: Mars Square Chiron

As if an unaspected Mars in Leo weren’t complex enough, our example chart adds another layer: Mars is squaring Chiron. Chiron is a minor planet/asteroid known as the “Wounded Healer” in astrology, representing our deepest emotional wounds and the potential to heal or bridge them. A hard aspect (like a square) between Mars and Chiron suggests that the person’s drive and anger (Mars) are in constant tension with a core wound or vulnerability (Chiron). It paints the picture of someone who cannot express anger or assert themselves without immediately hitting a nerve of pain or shame.

The class had not formally covered Chiron yet, but the teacher gave a revealing explanation. Chiron, she noted, “is generally considered to relate to the trauma, the wound, [and] the need to bridge things”. It orbits between Saturn and Uranus – between the old and the new – symbolically forming a bridge between the past and future, or between pain and liberation. A key idea is that Chiron represents a wound that never fully heals; it remains a “permanently active” spot of vulnerability that teaches us something over time. In a sense, Chiron’s wound is an open one, reminding us of our humanity and need for growth. The Chernobyl nuclear disaster was given as a metaphor: even decades later, the area remains dangerously contaminated – an enduring wound to remind us not to repeat certain mistakes.

So what happens when fiery Mars collides with this sensitive Chiron? A student in the class astutely asked: Is Mars with Chiron a continuously open wound that will always find ways to get its scabs picked? The instructor responded unequivocally: “Chiron is always an open wound when it is in a difficult aspect with Mars”. In other words, Mars square Chiron means the wound is raw and easily triggered, especially through themes of anger, conflict, and self-assertion. Every time this person tries to stand up for themselves or assert their will (Mars), that Chiron pain is activated – as if the act of pushing forward rubs salt in an old sore. Likewise, every time they feel anger, it immediately carries a tinge of guilt, shame, or hurt.

The notes elaborate on this dynamic: “Mars is action, aggression, anger; Chiron relates to the wound, shame, trauma… What does the square between them tell us? It says that every time he tries to claim his ground, it hurts, and every time he gets angry, he feels wrong.” This is a painful catch-22. The normal function of Mars – to assert, to say “I want this” or “I’m angry about that” – is short-circuited by Chiron’s influence. The person may have an internalized belief (often stemming from past experiences) that “if I show my strength or anger, I will be hurt or I will hurt others.” Perhaps as a child they were punished or shamed for any display of anger; perhaps they witnessed a parent react badly to assertiveness. Whatever the origin, the subconscious message is: expressing anger = getting wounded. Thus, the individual might oscillate between suppressing anger (out of fear and shame) and then, eventually, erupting in anger (when the pressure of holding it in becomes too much) – and then feeling terribly guilty afterward. The notes describe exactly that: anger under Mars–Chiron tends to be either “completely suppressed or comes out abruptly, clumsily, and with very intense guilt, with an explosion, with shame”. It’s never a clean, cathartic release; it’s tied up with self-reproach.

We can imagine how confusing this is for the individual. Every time they assert themselves or get upset, they immediately feel that something is wrong with them. They may even anticipate conflict with dread, knowing it will leave them feeling ashamed or “like the bad guy.” Over time, this can create a kind of learned helplessness or a deep frustration – wanting to stand up for oneself but expecting pain or humiliation if one does. The astrologer mentioned that there might be a history of punishment or ridicule around anger in this person’s background: perhaps when they “dared to stand upright,” they were knocked down or mocked. The inner child learned the lesson: when I show strength, I get hurt. So the adult carries that wound, and life has a way of “scratching at old wounds” through repeated situations until healing is addressed.

Another pattern noted for Mars–Chiron individuals is that they may attract partners or situations that continually hurt them whenever they try to assert themselves. For instance, they might end up with a highly manipulative partner who does subtle things to provoke their anger, then flips the script and makes them feel guilty for getting angry. It’s a classic gaslighting scenario: “Any time he does something that makes you furious, he turns it back on you and says you’re the one at fault for being angry.” People with Mars–Chiron wounds can fall victim to this because they already feel internally that their anger is “bad” or unjustified. They can easily be convinced that they are overreacting or being cruel, when in fact their partner deliberately crossed their boundaries. This dynamic only reinforces the wound: through conflict, they end up hurt yet again, often in a confused, disproportionate tangle of emotions. Physically, this ongoing inner conflict (to fight or to hide, to express anger or choke it down) can manifest in the body. The notes mention possible passive aggression, somatization of anger into the body, muscle inflammations, heart issues, even accidents. After all, Mars rules our muscles and energy level, and in Leo (which rules the heart) squaring Chiron, one could literally somaticize heart strain or muscular pain from all the unexpressed or conflicted anger. Indeed, anger can be directed outward or inward – and when it’s inward, it often becomes a physical burden on the body (more on this in a moment).

The journey for someone with a Mars–Chiron aspect is ultimately to learn a new way of asserting and healing. The pain will keep surfacing until they find a balance: how to stand up for themselves without violence (externally or internally) and how to express anger or strength in a healthy, compassionate way. “What must the person learn?” the astrologer asks. To **“claim what they want without violence,” and to be “more deeply compassionate” with themselves and others. In practice, this might mean recognizing the wound when it’s triggered – “I feel hurt and ashamed as I get angry” – and gently pushing through it, rewriting the old script. It might mean choosing partners and friends who honor their assertions rather than punish them, or working in therapy to separate past trauma from present reactions. The goal is for the individual to no longer be paralyzed by the equation anger = pain. With awareness and practice, they can learn that anger, in itself, isn’t “bad” – it’s a natural signal – and that expressing it doesn’t have to lead to disaster. In fact, confronting issues directly and assertively, when done consciously, prevents the festering that causes those volcanic eruptions and psychosomatic fallout. It’s a path of courage and gradual healing, turning that open wound into a source of wisdom and empathy for oneself and others.

Jupiter Without Aspects – Untamed Fortune and Overflowing Generosity

Shifting our focus from fire to fortune, let’s examine Jupiter in the natal chart – specifically, a Jupiter that is unaspected. Jupiter is often called the planet of luck, growth, abundance, and faith. It represents how we seek meaning, our optimism, and the ways blessings come into our life. An unaspected Jupiter is a fascinating thing: its benevolent energy, not checked or channeled by other planets, can feel like a wild, untamed force. This can manifest as incredible strokes of luck and opportunity that seem to appear out of nowhere, as well as tendencies toward excess or lack of moderation (since Jupiter also rules expansiveness and sometimes overindulgence).

In our example chart, Jupiter is in Cancer and technically counts as “without aspects” by the criteria we discussed (its only apparent aspects are of the sort that don’t “count” or are too weak). Jupiter in Cancer is actually a strong placement – it’s considered exalted there, meaning its positive qualities are amplified. The astrologer pointed out that this Jupiter sits at the cusp of the 5th and 6th houses, influencing both the realm of creativity/joy (5th house) and work/service (6th house). We’ll come back to what that means, but first let’s consider Jupiter’s general effect when unaspected.

One hallmark of an unaspected Jupiter is effortless luck – big opportunities and fortunate events that the person doesn’t consciously orchestrate or “chase.” In fact, the teacher remarked that “Jupiter brings luck without [the person] chasing it”, and that major breaks in life will come as if by divine timing. The individual might often say, “I wasn’t even looking, but this amazing chance just fell into my lap!” Jupiter is the principle of expansion and grace, and in an unaspected state it can operate rather freely, gifting the person in surprising ways. Doors open for them, help arrives just when needed, and they may even feel protected by a guardian-angel force. Indeed, with Jupiter in nurturing Cancer, the chart suggests a theme of protection, care, and emotional support surrounding the person. This Jupiter can act like a safety net, ensuring that even in tough times the person lands on their feet. The notes mention that such a Jupiter “protects the person in catastrophes and gives second chances” in life. There’s a sense of being looked after by the universe – a reservoir of goodwill that refills their cup when it runs low.

Moreover, being positioned in both the 5th and 6th house areas, this Jupiter’s luck is tied to creativity and meaningful work. The message it sends is “Do what you love, and make it useful – and you will be rewarded.” This is a beautiful principle of creative manifestation. If the person pours their enthusiasm (Jupiter) into something they genuinely love (5th house creativity, joy) and channels it into a form of service or practical effort (6th house work, duty), Jupiter promises abundance as a result. In other words, aligning passion with purpose will unlock Jupiter’s gifts. The notes literally phrase Jupiter’s advice as: “Make what you love useful, and you will be rewarded.” When this individual follows that path – creating things that bring them joy and sharing them in a way that contributes – they are likely to experience significant growth, recognition, and success that feels almost fated or easy.

However, every planet has its shadow, and an unaspected Jupiter can have a side of excess or lack of control. When Jupiter’s expansive energy isn’t tempered by other planets, the person might struggle with setting limits. In this case, Jupiter in caring Cancer makes the person extremely generous, protective, and giving – perhaps too much so. The astrologer pointed out that the shadow of this placement is a tendency to “give much more than one receives,” to emotionally carry others’ burdens, and to be overprotective. The person’s benevolence and optimism, unchecked, could lead them to pour out their time, energy, or resources beyond what is healthy. They might habitually put others’ needs first, nurture everyone around them, and take on more responsibility than they can sustain. Jupiter’s faith says “there’s always more,” and Cancer’s empathy says “others need me,” so they may keep giving and giving, assuming they’ll somehow stay filled. But as the teacher wisely observed, “you cannot give 5 liters and receive only 1 liter back, and expect to stay full.” Even the most generous soul needs boundaries and reciprocation. If not, eventually these people empty out. They can burn out, feel unappreciated, or fall into disillusionment when their endless outpouring isn’t returned in kind.

Thus, an important lesson for an unaspected Jupiter person (especially with a strong caregiving Cancer influence) is to learn to say “no” and set limits. They must “learn to put a stop” when needed and “rein in” their overprotective, overgiving tendencies. This doesn’t mean becoming selfish; it means recognizing that true generosity includes giving to oneself as well. With healthy boundaries, their Jupiter gifts can shine without depletion. In fact, once they balance this, they often find an even greater capacity to uplift others – because they aren’t running on empty.

Interestingly, the notes mention that not everyone with an unaspected Jupiter will automatically have the confidence or positive self-image to use it well. Our example chart is fairly fortunate in that regard (Jupiter being exalted and tied to confidence-building houses). But in some cases, a person might have all this luck and potential and still feel insecure or unworthy. That’s where guidance is key – which brings us to the final crucial theme: self-knowledge and healing.

When Anger Turns Inward – Psychosomatic Consequences

We’ve discussed how an unaspected Mars can lead to suppressed anger and abrupt outbursts. But what happens if that anger has truly nowhere to go – if the person, due to fear or conditioning, never allows it external expression at all? In many cases, the answer is that the anger turns inward, towards the self, manifesting as health issues or psychosomatic symptoms. The body keeps the score, as the saying goes. In our Mars example, the astrologer specifically warned of autoimmune conditions that can arise from long-term repressed anger and wounded pride.

Recall that Mars in Leo desperately needs a “stage” or some avenue to assert its identity. If the person denies themselves that – perhaps living a life that feels meek, unnoticed, or full of swallowed resentment – the body may start to act out the conflict. “Since we don’t have a stage,” the teacher explains, or if one “leads a life that doesn’t suit the basic requirements of Mars,” then “autoimmune issues will start to emerge.” The logic is that unexpressed anger becomes an internal war. The immune system, which is the body’s warrior, no longer has a clear external enemy to fight (because the person isn’t confronting issues outwardly), so it turns on the self. The notes state it plainly: anger about one’s self-worth and dignity, when not expressed, “becomes an internal war, so he begins to attack himself because he swallows the anger”. The energy of Mars doesn’t disappear just because we ignore or suppress it – it has to go somewhere. If not released in healthy assertion or even occasional shouting matches, it can somatize as inflammation in the body. The lecture describes how this inner anger leads to “inflammations, flares triggered by emotional blows, ruptures, rejection, public humiliation conflicts”. Essentially, each time the person experiences a hit to their pride or a betrayal (and doesn’t express their rage outwardly), their body might react with a flare-up of some kind – perhaps a rash, a fever, a flare of an autoimmune disorder – literally inflamed by the unspoken anger.

One striking example mentioned is the link between Mars and autoimmune illnesses like lupus. Mars rules the immune response (in medical astrology, Mars is associated with inflammation and the immune system’s attacks). In cases where Mars energy is chronically repressed or misdirected, we indeed see higher incidences of autoimmune disorders. The teacher noted that people with a suppressed Mars (such as Mars in certain signs or retrograde) often exhibit this. For instance, an Mars in Leo person whose pride has been deeply wounded and who cannot express their anger “often has their own immune system attack itself,” leading to conditions like lupus – which was specifically cited as having very high rates among such cases. Likewise, a Mars in Cancer (where Mars feels weakened) or Mars in Libra (which hates conflict) or Mars retrograde (turned inward) can correlate with chronic inflammation issues if the anger is continually stifled. Mars retrograde was called a “red flag” for inflammation – one of the top indicators – because the aggressive energy is literally turned inward by retrograde motion.

The psychosomatic link doesn’t stop at the immune system. Depending on which sign or body part Mars is connected to, we might see other ailments. In our case, Mars is in Leo (which among other things rules the heart and spine) – one might watch for stress-related heart symptoms or back problems flaring when the person is under suppressed anger or dignity threats. The notes also mentioned muscular issues (Mars rules muscles) and general pain or fatigue from carrying anger. The psychological profile of someone with inflammatory issues was detailed from a book on psychosomatics: such a person may have “fiery thoughts full of rage, ready to attack, but intense anxiety about the consequences”. They feel “surrounded on all sides by merciless, constantly threatening forces,” with low self-esteem and self-rejection. Often, these patterns began in childhood – perhaps in a chaotic family where nothing felt safe or fair. They are “enraged by what they see” but feel they “have difficulty speaking about all that is happening”. This description fits perfectly with the Mars-in-Leo person who grew up feeling unseen or disrespected: there is intense anger, but also fear and a feeling of powerlessness to voice it. So the anger simmers and turns inward, confirming the cycle of low self-worth (“I must deserve this pain”).

From an astrological counseling perspective, these psychosomatic clues are incredibly useful. If a client comes in with chronic inflammation or autoimmune issues, a good astrologer will check Mars immediately. Nine times out of ten, “there’s something going on with Mars” – some placement or aspect indicating repressed assertiveness or internalized conflict. Recognizing this, the astrologer (or any healer) can guide the person toward healthier expression of Mars energy. It might be as simple (and as challenging) as helping them acknowledge their anger, feel their right to dignity, and find safe ways to let it out. Physical exercise, assertiveness training, creative self-expression, or even just learning to say “No” can be therapeutic Mars outlets. The goal is to prevent that energy from stagnating and attacking from within.

One interesting tip from the class: certain placements of Mars are frequently seen in those with inflammations. We noted Mars retrograde, Cancer, Libra, and yes, Leo. It was even said that people with Mars in Leo “usually the immune system attacks itself”. Why Leo specifically? Possibly because Leo’s core is about self-worth and being loved/valued – when that is chronically injured, the person’s very sense of self (the immune system is a bodily self-recognition system) malfunctions. Their immune system might metaphorically mirror their psyche’s state of feeling betrayed by its own family or environment, thus it “betrays” the self too. And as they pointed out, this can lead to illnesses like systemic lupus, which is literally the body attacking multiple organs (and lupus notably has a higher incidence in people who internalize stress and anger). Of course, not every Mars in Leo gets lupus – these are tendencies, not deterministic fates. But the psychosomatic insight is valuable: when we swallow our anger, our body may get “inflamed” for us. Healing requires both medical and emotional work: addressing the physical symptoms and also giving that anger a voice so the body doesn’t have to shout.

Self-Discovery and Healing: Where Astrology Meets Psychology

If there is one overarching lesson from exploring this unaspected Mars and Jupiter case, it’s the critical importance of self-knowledge. When powerful energies operate unconsciously (as with our unaspected planets), they can wreak havoc – whether through sudden outbursts, disruptive life events, illness, or maladaptive patterns in relationships. Bringing these patterns to light is the first step toward growth and healing. This is where astrology and psychology ideally go hand in hand, as complementary tools. Astrology provides the symbolic map of a person’s inner landscape – highlighting, for example, that “here lies an anger wound,” or “here lies a gift of luck you may not be using.” Psychology (and therapy, self-reflection, etc.) provides the techniques and understanding to work through those issues on a human level – to rewrite old narratives, develop coping strategies, and integrate those once-hidden parts of the self into a healthier whole.

Throughout the class discussion, the instructor frequently shifted from astrological analysis to practical advice on how to help the client. She even mimicked how a client might voice their inner fear to either a psychologist or an astrologer: “I don’t want people to step on me.” This shows a recognition that whether one is in a therapist’s chair or an astrologer’s office, the core issues overlap. In fact, a good astrologer often acts as a counselor, translating the chart’s symbols into psychological insights the client can relate to. Conversely, a therapist may not use astrology, but they deal with the same human struggles that show up in the chart. Both approaches seek to increase the client’s awareness of themselves and develop healthier patterns.

For an unaspected Mars individual, both astrology and psychology would agree on the remedy: expression. Not “control” in the strict sense of repression, but learning to safely express and channel that anger and drive. “Don’t tell the person to just control their anger – that won’t work,” the astrologer warns. Imagine telling someone with years of bottled rage to “calm down” – it’s futile and invalidating. Instead, they must **“begin to express what hasn’t been said”. The very body needs a voice – meaning all those somatic pains and tensions need to be heard and released. The strategy is to transform reactive outbursts into proactive, consistent expression. That could involve journaling feelings regularly, having honest conversations about grievances while calm, or engaging in activities like art, sport, or shouting into a pillow – anything that converts conflict energy into a conscious outlet. The astrologer beautifully put it as turning every conflict into understanding “what’s really behind it”. Each time anger flares, instead of simply reacting or swallowing it, the person can ask: What hurt or need is underneath this anger? What is this situation triggering in me? In doing so, the once-unconscious Mars is being integrated. The rage that “was not born in this person” (perhaps inherited or conditioned) is finally given a voice to speak and be released, through this person. This kind of inner work is essentially psychological shadow work, validated by astrological insight. It’s a prime example of how astrology can guide one to the very issues a therapist would target – and how addressing those issues leads to personal evolution.

Likewise, for an unaspected Jupiter person, self-knowledge might involve realizing their pattern of overgiving or their unconscious luck. They may need to learn boundaries, as we discussed, and also to believe in themselves as much as Jupiter believes in them. Interestingly, the class touched on the topic of self-confidence as a determining factor in whether someone can actualize their potential. The teacher noted that not everyone has the built-in confidence that our example chart’s Jupiter bestows. Many people “feel they cannot cope” and thus give up on growth opportunities. Whether in an astrology session or any mentoring scenario, a big part of helping someone is instilling belief in their own capabilities. “It is your job as astrologers,” she told the students, to help a person “start from zero to discover who they are – what their talents are, how they can develop”. This is a beautiful description of the self-discovery journey. By systematically exploring a person’s strengths (their Jupiter gifts, their Mars drives, etc.), you help them build a “good self-image that understands I can achieve X, Y, Z things”. When someone comes to recognize “what skills they have, what they can do” and sees evidence of their small successes, their self-esteem grows. Over time, they feel “filled up” by the knowledge of their own competence and worth, rather than feeling “I’m not capable of anything”. This empowerment is exactly what both astrology and psychology seek to facilitate.

In closing, the tale of the unaspected Mars and Jupiter teaches us that our most unruly inner forces – whether an anger that frightens us or a luck that astounds us – are not truly beyond our understanding or influence. They are invitations to look within, to ask why they operate as they do, and to form a conscious relationship with them. It’s about bringing the unseen into the seen. The journey may require courage to face uncomfortable feelings (like admitting you’re enraged or that you fear rejection) and humility to seek help (through therapy, astrology, or other means of reflection). But the rewards are immense. When you shine light on those unconscious corners, the “wild” planets start to become allies rather than saboteurs. The Mars that once raged in the basement can become a source of passion, strength, and protection when acknowledged and directed. The Jupiter that threw gifts and chaos in equal measure can become a source of inspiration, creativity, and faith when you consciously aim it toward what you love.

Ultimately, self-knowledge is self-acceptance. By understanding your chart – and thus yourself – you cultivate the ability to accept all parts of who you are, even the ones that once seemed disruptive or shameful. An unaspected planet, in this sense, is like a strange, estranged part of you asking to come home. Through introspection, possibly guided by an astrologer or a therapist (or both), you invite that part home. You learn its language, its needs, its gifts. And as you integrate it, you become a fuller, more empowered individual. The energies that used to control you from the shadows now work with you, fueling your growth.

The story we’ve woven – of hidden anger, open wounds, untamed luck, and bodily symptoms – highlights just how interconnected our psyche and our stars really are. When we embark on the path of inner exploration, using tools like astrology and psychology in tandem, we equip ourselves to break harmful cycles and foster healing. We learn to spot the patterns (“Ah, here comes that Mars rage” or “I see, my Jupiter is making me overextend again”), and with practice, we change our responses. We set boundaries where needed, and tear down walls where they are no longer serving us. We give ourselves permission to feel everything – the anger, the pride, the hurt, the hope – and to channel those feelings into constructive change.

In doing so, we become, little by little, the conscious co-creators of our lives. The planets don’t control us; they symbolize the various forces within us. When those forces are unconscious, we feel controlled by them – “possessed” by anger, swept away by luck or loss. But when they are made conscious, we reclaim our power. The once-unaspected Mars becomes our sharpened sword of will, sheathed until deliberately drawn. The once-unaspected Jupiter becomes our compass of optimism, guiding us to opportunities we choose to pursue.

And perhaps most importantly, we learn compassion for ourselves. We see that behind every outburst or illness was a message – a message that something inside us needed attention and care. By heeding these messages, we begin to heal. The journey of self-discovery is not always easy, but it is profoundly empowering. As you come to know and accept your whole self, you affirm that you are not defined by your wounds or your wild cards – you are the hero of your own story, capable of growth and worthy of happiness.

In the end, astrology and psychology both remind us of a simple truth: When we know ourselves, we can heal ourselves. And when we heal ourselves, we no longer fear our inner fires or our twists of fate – we harness them, with wisdom and love, to light the way forward.

Sources:

• Transcribed lecture notes on astrology (Greek) – analysis of unaspected Mars and Jupiter, psychosomatic effects, and guidance for self-awareness of Christos Archos – www.astroinstiute.gr

Ινστιτούτο Αστρολογίας – Μαθήματα Αστρολογίας