The Inuit and Astrology: Navigating the Night of the Soul
In Western Astrology, we are accustomed to a zodiac born of the fertile crescent and the Mediterranean, a system of agriculture, seasons, and harvest. But at the Wilfred Hazelwood Clinic, we are deeply interested in how the human psyche adapts to different environments. What happens to the "As Above, So Below" principle when "Above" is a sky of eternal winter darkness, and "Below" is shifting pack ice?
The Inuit astronomy of the Arctic offers a profound alternative to our Greco-Roman view. It is not a luxury of prediction, but a necessity of survival. In the high latitudes, where the sun disappears for months, the stars are not merely distant archetypes; they are companions, timekeepers, and spirits that literally keep you alive.
The Sun and the Moon: A Cosmic Chase
One of the most potent psychological narratives in Inuit myth is the story of the Sun (Malina) and the Moon (Anningan or Igaluk). Unlike Western astrology, where the Sun is traditionally masculine (the Father/Ego) and the Moon feminine (the Mother/Unconscious), Inuit lore often reverses or complicates these roles.
The myth tells of a brother (Moon) who chases his sister (Sun) across the sky. In his obsession to catch her, he neglects to eat, thinning away until he disappears (the New Moon), only to feast and return to the chase (the Full Moon). From a Jungian perspective, this is a raw depiction of the Animus possessed by the Anima.
In therapy, we might analyse this as the psyche’s eternal pursuit of integration. The separation of the Sun and Moon represents the fundamental split in the human soul. The endless chase in the Arctic sky is a reminder that the forces of light (consciousness) and darkness (instinct) are locked in a dynamic, never-ending dance. It is not about one conquering the other, but about the cycle of pursuit itself.
Ullaktut: The Runners in the Sky
While we look at Orion and see a Hunter, the Inuit look at the three stars of Orion’s Belt and see Ullaktut, The Runners. These are interpreted as three hunters chasing a polar bear (represented by the star Betelgeuse or sometimes the Pleiades). This shift in perspective is crucial.
In our comfortable latitudes, Orion is a static image of a hero. In the Arctic, the constellation is a verb, running. The Inuit sky is kinetic. It reflects a life where movement is survival. To stop is to freeze. Astrologically, this teaches us that our charts are not static portraits of who we are, but maps of what we are doing. We are all "runners" chasing our own destiny across the firmament.
The Aurora: The Spirits at Play
No discussion of Arctic cosmology is complete without the Arsarnerit, the Aurora Borealis. While modern science explains this as solar wind hitting the magnetosphere, Inuit oral tradition describes it as the spirits of the ancestors playing a game of football, often using a walrus skull as the ball.
This imagery is striking in its joy amidst the harshness. It suggests a relationship with death that is far less morbid than our Western "Grim Reaper" Saturnian archetypes. The dead are not gone; they are luminous, active, and playful. Jung would describe the Aurora as a manifestation of the Collective Unconscious breaking through into the conscious world. In the profound sensory deprivation of the Polar Night, the veil between the worlds is thin, and the ancestors are visible to the naked eye.
Psychology of the Polar Night
The Inuit experience is also a study in psychological resilience. The phenomenon known as pibloktoq (Arctic Hysteria) is a dissociative episode linked to the intense environmental stress and lack of sunlight. Yet, the stars provided the anchor.
For the Inuit, the return of the sun (associated with the star Altair in the constellation Aquila) was a moment of profound spiritual renewal. It teaches us a lesson we often apply in the clinic: we must respect the cycles of our own internal "winters." Just as the Inuit elder knows how to navigate by the stars during the long night, we must learn to navigate by our inner values when the light of the ego is extinguished by depression or crisis.
In studying the Inuit sky, we are reminded that astrology is not just about personality quirks; it is about orientation. Whether we are navigating an ice floe or a mid-life crisis, we look up to find out where we stand.
