Pluto in Scorpio and Sedna in Taurus: The Scouring of the Shire

One of the major differences between Peter Jackson's film version of The Lord of the Rings and the book is the question of what happens to the hobbits after Sauron is defeated. 

In the movies, the Shire is pure and innocent, never touched by the larger battle for Middle Earth. The hobbits return to the Shire, and everything is as it was before. Part of the tragedy of Frodo's story is that he isn't able to participate in the idyllic life of the Shire anymore. He stands on the outside of hobbit society, watching all of his friends having fun and not being able to enjoy it.

In the book, the forces of Saruman invade the Shire, enslave the hobbits, and convert the farms into factories. This is called the scouring of the Shire, and there is a last battle required to overthrow Saruman for good. No one gets through the conflict unscathed. It is a loss of innocence. The hobbits will never again have the luxury of hiding behind their smallness and obscurity when evil arises. They know that the Shire can be reached. They cannot rely on others to fight the battles for Middle Earth for them.

The Lord of the Rings movies came out when I was a teenager, and I've come to see the differences between the stories of the films and the books as a metaphor for what it's like to grow up with Pluto in Scorpio and Sedna in Taurus.

Taurus is the sign of hobbitish things.

It is the sign of farming, pleasure gardens, the wholesome pleasures of food, ale, and "pipe weed." 

If it was possible for a person to have every planet in Taurus, they would be a lot like a hobbit. They would find Taurus delightful. Its biggest downside would be that things don't change very much. And why would you want things to change when things are so wonderful as they are? 

The Taurus person would be puzzled by "outsiders" who aren’t content to appreciate the simple things in life, like curious hobbits who are tempted to wander from the safe walled garden of the Shire, and wizards who don't find much use for their power in the Shire aside from a nice display of fireworks. 

Of course, it is impossible for a person to have every planet in Taurus, so even the most hobbitish person always has a planet or two pushing them to expand their horizons and pursue complexity. Even if they adamantly deny it.

This is good. It makes us more complicated people. Unfortunately, it also means that we don't have the luxury of experiencing the pure, idyllic world of Taurus. We have needs that can't be met within the walled garden of the Shire. We are pulled on adventures that expose us to the wider world. Like the Buddha discovered, the wider world contains suffering and pain.

Adventures can be especially painful for our inner hobbit selves if they involve experiences ruled by Leo, Scorpio, or Aquarius. Having Pluto in Scorpio in your natal chart makes Taurus experiences especially difficult. 

Taurus is challenging with Pluto in Scorpio.

Depending on what else you have in your chart, Pluto in Scorpio people can have an almost supernatural ability to sniff out evil in everything and the inability to look away once they see it. 

Going out for ice cream? Pluto in Scorpio person can't stop thinking about the calves that were separated from their mothers to support the dairy industry. 

Going out for drinks? Pluto in Scorpio can't stop thinking about that time they were smacked across the face by an alcoholic.

Just being a member of the Pluto in Scorpio generation doesn’t mean that you’re condemned to enjoy nothing. Some have easier charts. Some have an easier time pushing plutonian thoughts aside. Some have the ability to do the healing work necessary to allow them to choose to find pleasure in innocent things. That healing comes with the meta bonus of being able to consciously enjoy the pleasure of being able to enjoy things.

Still, the difficulty relaxing and enjoying the simple things can feel like being condemned to be Frodo at the end of the movies. Whether or not it’s actually true, it can seem like you’re a perpetual outsider, watching everyone around you enjoy things that you’re incapable of enjoying. 

Pluto in Scorpio + Sedna in Taurus

I think that the complexity of being a Pluto in Scorpio outsider is part of the Pluto in Scorpio archetype, just because of how it experiences Taurus, but that’s currently impossible to confirm because of a complication with Sedna.

The currently living Pluto in Scorpio generation is the first generation humanity has encountered with Pluto in Scorpio since the discovery of Pluto, and the currently living Pluto in Scorpio generation is (almost definitely) the only Pluto in Scorpio generation any who reads this will ever know.  

And everyone born with Pluto in Scorpio in the 1980s and 90s has Sedna in Taurus.

The dwarf planet Senda is named for the Inuit goddess who rules the underworld and lives on the bottom of the sea. She is the rejected child whose wounds never heal and whose severed fingers give life to the community in the form of the sea mammals they hunt for food. 

The myth and the astronomy of Sedna both seem to indicate that the Exile is one of the planet’s core archetypes, which means that it is difficult to tell how much of the exile-feeling of the Pluto in Scorpio generation comes from Pluto and how much comes from Sedna.

Sedna in Taurus: Generations in Exile

As a member of the Pluto in Scorpio generation, I’ve focused my attention on the experience of my generation, but Sedna’s passage through Taurus has interesting ramifications for all of the Pluto generations that were alive when Sedna was in Taurus (1965-2024). 

I say that it has implications for all generations that were alive, and not just the ones that have been born since 1965, purposefully. The people who were born after 1965 will carry Sedna in Taurus with them forever, but people who were born with Sedna in Aries had to live through the Sedna in Taurus, too. When a person experiences a transiting planet in a sign, it is like they are an honorary person with that planet in that chart while the transit is happening. A transit that lasts as long as Sedna in Taurus makes a serious mark on a person, too.  

What do we do with this? Nearly 60 years of a whole world wandering in exile? 

Someone asked me that, and I was reminded of a quote by Ram Dass. He said, “We’re all just walking each other home.”

In many of the stories of Sedna, the story ends by talking about her relationship with the community. She gives the sea mammals that give life, but she can also take them away when she feels humans are being too cruel. When that happens, the hunts fail, and an Inuk shaman journeys to the bottom of the sea to comb out Sedna’s hair, to do for her the things she can’t do herself because she doesn’t have fingers, to comfort her, to promise that the shaman will help humanity do better. 

Maybe, that’s the best thing we can do with astrological Sedna, too. Take turns diving to the depths for each other, to be each other’s hands, and promise to try to do better.

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