Given the number of lost item posts I put on this blog, it is entirely possible that readers think I spend a great deal of time losing things and then trying to find them. No, but lost items are really good things to practice divination on. It’s never an abstract exercise—I want to find the item, so there’s an emotional tie to the question. Plus, lost item divinations are so wonderfully definite: either you find the item or you don’t, and if you do, either it’s where the divination said it would be or it isn’t.
What I’d lost this time was my Jupiter remedy. The topic of planetary remedies is bigger than I want to get into here, but my super-short definition is that they’re talismans used to strengthen the influence of a planet in your natal chart. I carry an amethyst in my pocket as a Jupiter remedy, and last Tuesday, I put my hand into that pocket and realized the amethyst wasn’t there. I looked for it off and on for the rest of the day at work, and when I didn’t find it, hoped I’d somehow left it at home. But I didn’t find it there either, and so I turned to divination.
While I don’t enjoy losing things (ack!), they do provide me with opportunities for divination practice. A few months ago, I took a class in geomancy. There are ways to use geomancy to find lost items, and since geomancy combines nicely with astrology and I’d be using horary astrology anyway to try to find this amethyst, it was a chance to practice both a new and an old(er) skill. This time, I also altered my standard question. Usually I ask, “Where is my [lost item]?” But I’ve been reading the sensible observation that it doesn’t really matter where the lost item is if you never find it, so this time I added that to the question. Yes, that puts two questions into one chart, but that shouldn’t be a problem.
Will I find my Jupiter remedy, and if so, where is it?
While there are multiple ways to use geomancy to find a lost item, I went with the one described by John Michael Greer in The Art and Practice of Geomancy: Divination, Magic, and Earth Wisdom of the Renaissance. I was more familiar with it, which mattered because I was in a hurry to get an idea of where the amethyst might be—I was about to leave for work, and wanted to know if I should bother to look for it there.
This method is fairly straightforward. From a list that he provides of the twelve houses and what kinds of items are associated with them, choose the house that corresponds with your lost item. Cast your geomancy chart and the figure that appears in that house will describe the item’s location. It seems to me, though, that there are an awful lot of things you could lose that aren’t on that list. Greer states that you should use the 4th house for anything not listed. I’m guessing that comes from horary astrology, where the ruler of the 4th house is often used as the significator for lost items. But I’m a librarian by trade: categorizing things is literally my job, so I decided to pick a house for my amethyst. While Greer only lists “wills and anything inherited” for possible lost items of the 8th house, in his general description, he writes “Magic, performed by the querent, or on his or her behalf, belongs to this house.” That describes a planetary remedy, so I chose the 8th house.
The figure in the 8th house was Fortuna Major. Greer says: “[the item] is in a rugged or forested area, a government or military building, or some other inaccessible place.” I also checked the 4th house, because, hey, I could be wrong. The figure there was Puella: “a bedroom, upstairs room, or attic, in a workshop or factory floor, or on the side of a hill.” Neither description was terribly specific, unfortunately. As for the first part of my question, about if I’d even find the amethyst, the Judge for the chart was Acquisitio. That figure usually means a positive answer, and meaning-wise, gain is literally the opposite of loss, so I was encouraged.
First, the chart:
None of the considerations before judgment apply to this chart, so off we go. My significator is the ruler of the 1st house, which is Mercury in Libra in the 2nd house. The significator for the lost amethyst could be the ruler of the 2nd house of movable possessions (Venus), the ruler of the 4th house of buried treasure (Jupiter), or the planet that best describes the lost item, which I figured was Jupiter, since it’s a Jupiter remedy. Really, Jupiter sounded like the best choice.
In this chart, Jupiter is retrograde in Aquarius in the 6th house. Although it’s way out of orb for a trine to Mercury as measured by degrees, I’ve been experimenting with whole sign aspects while studying Hellenistic astrology, and the two planets do form a trine by sign. I was happy to see that Jupiter was retrograde, because I remembered reading somewhere that that’s a good indication that your lost item will return to you. The trine between Jupiter and Mercury was also a good sign of its return. And while I didn’t take the time then to double-check with my books, I decided that Jupiter being in the 6th house confirmed that the amethyst was at work somewhere.
Finding the item
I’d like to say that armed with this knowledge, I walked into my office and immediately located the missing amethyst. Ha. I kept an eye out for it throughout the day, but didn’t see it. Nor did any of my coworkers mention finding a pretty rock. I didn’t find it until just after lunch. I’d eaten in my office with the door closed, and as I was getting ready to clean up, I took back my mask which I’d hung from the door handle so I wouldn’t forget to put it on. I glanced down as I did…and there was the amethyst, on the floor under one leg of my desk, totally blocked from view from any angle except the one I just happened to be at for that moment. I still have no idea how it managed to work its way out of my pants pocket, fall on the floor, and somehow slip under that leg, all without my noticing.
Home again, with time to do research, I delved into the readings further. On the geomancy side of things, choosing the 8th house and Fortuna Major worked. My office is in a government building, and while we’re open to the public, the building is more inaccessible than many. But Puella, the figure in the 4th house, wasn’t wrong. Of all the location descriptions, “a workshop or factory floor” is the closest the list gets to the modern office, and it happens that our building is built into the side of a hill. I suppose the locations associated with each figure are derived from their general meanings. For instance, Fortuna Major means lasting good fortune that may begin with difficulty. Perhaps “difficulty” translates into a difficult-to-access place when reading a chart for location.
In the horary chart, like I said, Jupiter was retrograde in Aquarius in the 6th house. Its house and retrogradation seem to have been more relevant to the amethyst’s location than its sign. The 6th house is one of the cadent houses, and when a lost object’s significator is in a cadent house, the object is far from home and difficult to find. While the amethyst was practically underfoot whenever I was in my office, that office is miles from my home, which is where I was when I asked the questions. If the significator is in a cadent house, the object may be hidden behind or within something—hard to see—and because “cadent” means “falling,” the object may have fallen to its current location. The amethyst had almost certainly fallen out of my pocket, and it was hidden behind/under the desk leg, making it difficult to find even when I was only a couple of feet away from it. I’m glad I didn’t have to rely on Aquarius to tell me where it was. Maybe Aquarius meant the amethyst was near modern electronic equipment: my computer is on my desk, and the amethyst was under them. The air signs often signify that the item is up high, which definitely didn’t apply here. Okay, Anthony Louis says that it may be “near things related to the calves, shins, and ankles”—does the desk leg count? 😄
As for the question of whether I’d find the amethyst, John Frawley writes, “The strongest testimony of recovery [of a lost object] is an applying aspect between the object and the querent, or between the object and Lord 2 (if the object is signified by something else), showing it returning to the querent’s possession.” In this particular chart, because I was using whole-sign aspects, Jupiter was forming a trine to and retrograding back towards both Mercury (the querent) and Venus (Lord 2). Basically, everything worked, and I have my amethyst back, safe and sound.