On Fate, Interpretation and the Inquisitive Art

I often find myself reflecting on the static interpretations in many classical astrological texts, those declarative phrases like “they will be X and Y”, often presented with certainty, finality, and no room for variance. Don't get me wrong, I understand the goal and historical context of such statements: to codify, to capture patterns, to forecast. And yet… something about it always feels disconnected or out of touch.

Even contemporary astrology, in all its modern emphasis, sometimes mirrors that same rigidity. We see it in statements like, “If you have 10th house placements, then this”, or “If you have planets in the 7th, then that”. These one-size-fits-all declarations flatten the richness of a life. However, I get that many forms of content nowadays aren’t built for exploring the many contexts that such “richness” implies, but the language—it’s the inflexibility of what’s prophesied over a signature that weighs on me.

A recent example that struck me is Beyoncé’s chart. With her birth time now public, her 10th house placements don’t immediately align with what many astrologers might expect from someone of her stature. It’s a great case study in why planetary placement alone is not enough to prophesize the trajectory of a life. Sure, the chart may point toward certain themes, certain latent potentials—but there’s more at play. So much more.

Astrology, like life, thrives in context.

For example, someone born into poverty may become a beacon of visibility within that landscape—respected, influential, even famous within their realm. Another born into wealth might experience repeated loss, or invisibility, despite what the chart might suggest about status or resources. I find that the chart shows what fate highlights within the soul, not the totality of the soul. And that distinction matters.

This is why I no longer subscribe to the empirical, cookie-cutter approach to natal astrology. I prefer something more inquisitive, more open-handed—something that engages the chart as a living dialogue rather than a fixed script, like a map. Even then, how we read that map depends on where we’re standing, who we are at a given moment, and what paths are presently available to us.

Now I know some of you are thinking, “Mori, that’s why we use lords, triplicities, and additional techniques of assessment.” And you’re right, those tools exist for nuance. They exist for layered evaluation, but even then, the issue I highlight does not deal with the tools... it’s how we sometimes use them.

Making bold, deterministic claims based solely on static placements can be misleading, and sometimes even harmful. If we can’t navigate interpretation or conversation using the basics, perhaps the issue isn’t with the basics themselves, but with how we approach them. Natal astrology, in my view, is less about declaring who someone will be and more about exploring who they might become, within the complex weave of fate, context, agency, and soul.

This is why I continue to return to natal astrology not as a system of answers, but as a system of inquiry. One that reveres mystery in the pursuit for answers. One that understands complexity. One that remembers: people are not objects, and destinies are forged. Fate, to me, is merely the grounds for becoming—not the blueprint of a fixed self, but the canvas upon which the soul engages with time, choice, and consequence.