Understanding Scorpio’s Real Connection With Death And Sex
We astrologers are used to hearing statements from people who, while vitally interested in astrology, aren’t particularly knowledgeable about it. So they often speak in sound bites which, as this campaign year reminds us, reflect only part of the truth—sometimes a very small part.
Typical of what we frequently hear are: “Libras can’t make decisions.” “Virgos are nitpickers.” “Leos are show offs.” “Aquarians are weird.” These statements, superficial as they often are, also attach to deeper truths that need excavation to be revealed and understood.
In my next few blog posts I will take one sound bite per astrological sign and dig down to expose the root of its origin. I’m starting with Scorpio, the astrological sign and house in the horoscope referenced by many as the “sex and death” house/sign.
Tell this to those Scorpios who don’t know anything about astrology (the majority of the population doesn’t know much about it) and most will look kind of stunned. Then they’ll generally respond with their favorite word, “why.” More on that later.
I’ve found as an astrologer and sometimes Tarot reader that Scorpio’s association with death in particular can freak people out. If the death card comes out the person often gets a startled look to which I immediately respond: “Relax! That just means change.” But our current societal norms don’t allow us to see death as change because we don’t see the context of death, only its experience, an experience that terrifies many of us putting it at the top of our personal and cultural terror list.
The sex and death association with Scorpio doesn’t have anything to do with passion, or how Scorpio people perform in the sack, or how Svengali-like they may seduce, or how mysterious they can appear. The explanation is based in biology, including the other –ologies in the physical sciences, applied to all levels of reproductive processes. Closely observing nature shows us this is a chief operating principle in the universe.
Here’s how Scorpio’s archetypes of sex, death and their resulting transformation (throwing that in for a bonus round) exist together in one process:
- Sex: When a sperm and egg (or their equivalents in a specific life form) unite after the sex act, or equivalent reproductive process, they form a new cell which will grow into a unique life form.
- Death: The sperm and egg, or equivalents, now no longer exist. They are dead.
- Transformation: However, they haven’t really died because the essences of what they were, genetic codes, now exist transformed into another generation in the newly formed cell. And this legacy process of biology repeats over and over.
Not very titillating but truly mysterious and holy. And it is this mystery that intrigues and engages Scorpios. This is why one of Scorpio’s favorite words is “why,” and why one of their favorite passions is following its trail no matter where it leads. I’ve memorialized this inner necessity of Scorpio in my book, Humanus Astrologicus. Here’s an excerpt:
They go where their deep passion takes them
Even if the journey breaks them.
And when it comes their time to die
Their last word uttered will be “why,”
Regretting all that they don’t know
Because, you see, it’s Scorpio.
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Comments 1
Thank you for the well-written post! It brought me a comforting sense of being understood, and I'll add some context (albeit a decade late):
As a death fetishist since beginning puberty at age 7, I can anecdotally confirm the sex & death connection. I was never molested or abused, but I did have a near-death choking experience as a toddler that left me with a short-lived imaginary friend and very little fear of death for as long as I can remember.
However, exposure to violent 90's movies and video games way too young left an imprint on me. Total Recall, The Running Man, Jurassic Park, Tomb Raider, etc. One day my adult neighbor across the street was washing her car in the driveway in a bikini. Next thing you know, I'm humping my bedroom floor while imagining her suffocating.
This was followed by arousal through the idea of women getting chased as prey, hunted for food, and/or eaten whole (never with blood, ironically). If a Scorpio aggressively kisses a certain body part of yours during foreplay, there's a chance they secretly fantasize about consuming it. And ultimately, women drowning has been my concept of max arousal for the last 26 years.
Caveat: I don't find sex sexy, but I'm good at it because I'm good at imagining my partner dying in order to keep myself interested. The fact that an orgasm mirrors the act of suffocating or drowning is pretty convenient. I've revealed this information to 4 trusted girlfriends who I'd dated for at least a year, and 2 of them left me because of it. From what I've learned, Scorpios are commonly on the receiving end of betrayal.
All this said, I'm very averse to hurting people (physically & emotionally) in our corporeal realm and I don't condone violence outside consentual combat. This cognitive dissonance is what makes us seem "mysterious" or "reserved". We get-off to thoughts of death while consciously hiding this darkness from society, not necessarily in shame but in understanding how inversely off-putting it can be to others.