Holding Space for Complexity in Vedic Astrology

“If we can stay with the tension of opposites long enough—sustain it, be true to it—we can sometimes become vessels within which the divine opposites come together and give birth to a new reality.”

— Marie-Louise von Franz

Is My Planet Good or Bad?

I always wondered where the idea that one planet is bad while another is good—such a limited viewpoint—even came from. After all, Vedic Astrology originated from the ancient tradition of Sanatana Dharma, which is non-dual and all-inclusive at its root, honouring all the polarities of life and recognising the unifying influence of the Spirit beyond matter. (I also wrote an article about it some months ago on my Substack—you can read it here.) If you truly understand its principles and live in tune with them, you quickly come to understand that “good” or “bad” are, in most cases, just labels of the mind—typical of our subjective mind, but often far from objective reality.

As I started to dive into the Vedic Astrology classics, it quickly occurred to me where these “good” or “bad” distinctions might be coming from. In Brihat Parashara Hora Shastra itself, just as in other old treatises on Jyotisha, you will often find many extreme descriptions of a particular placement. You read about multiple yogas that can make one a king and lots of combinations that are like “curses” and make a person a pauper. Traditional Vedic Astrologers often reinforce this fear-based language and, in many cases, even monetise the fear of their clients.

And yet, the vast majority of the population is not made up of kings or beggars, but of ordinary people, like you and me, who are somewhere in the middle of the king/beggar spectrum. The question that should naturally arise is: where does the “normal” fit into that traditional picture? And are the scriptures wrong in their extreme descriptions?

Every practising astrologer eventually comes to understand that the extremely good and extremely bad descriptions that can be found in the scriptures rarely come true in their entirety. Not because the scriptures are wrong, but because it is actually extremely rare to find a completely pure and active raja yoga, free from any afflictions, just as it is extremely rare to find a chart so bad that there is no saving grace in it. The scriptures merely point us to where the limit of each yoga and every placement lies—how far the good and the bad influences can go. But it doesn’t automatically mean that every chart is going to hit this limit. Most of us will find ourselves somewhere in the middle, only slightly closer to one extreme or the other.

And even that is a great oversimplification, because the true reflection of a man’s life in a birth chart begins to emerge only once we expand our vision, zoom out, and embrace the fact that our chart, just like our life itself, is often full of complexity, layers, and contradictions—which do not always have to be reconciled or dumbed down to a single way of interpreting them.

One Planet, Many Roles

One of the greatest things that Vedic Astrology has taught me is to hold space for complexity and seeming contradictions—and to be open to the idea that every single thing in life and every single planetary placement have both hidden blessings and hidden shadows.

Every graha in your birth chart holds more than one role—just as we humans do. A person can be a mother, a wife, a child, a sister, a boss, and a spiritual seeker at the same time. Some of those roles support each other; others might be conflicting at times. Each has its own place and value.

For a Pisces Ascendant, for example, with Mercury at the highest degree, that same Mercury can be both a badhaka (an obstruction-giving planet, especially in the sphere of relationships) and Atma Karaka (the planet of the soul’s purpose)—and perhaps even a Yogi planet through Panchang—all at the same time. The question that often emerges in a situation like this is: which of these roles takes precedence? Does one cancel the other?

I always teach all my astrology students that there is no such thing as “cancellation” in Vedic Astrology—and that not all contradictions have to be reconciled. The layers are just added on top of one another and give us a full picture of a person’s life—which is often much closer to actual reality than what we see when we just look at things in a dualistic “good and bad” way.

If you take the same example of a Pisces Ascendant, perhaps that badhaka, Mercury, indeed causes some challenges in the sphere of relationships. But with that same Mercury becoming Atma Karaka, working on those challenges might be the most important life lesson—which a person can definitely master in this lifetime if the said Mercury is well placed. And if that same Mercury happens to be the Yogi or Yoga Karaka, that same planet can become the cause of material success (if well placed). None of these roles excludes any of the others; brought together, they reveal a more detailed picture.

And we can see it over and over again in Vedic Astrology. The same Sun–Venus conjunction that brings a person success makes relationships challenging. The same Moon–Rahu conjunction, which can indicate an extraordinary mind, can also cause anxiety. These different interpretations are not mutually exclusive but often go hand in hand.

Then comes the question about a planet’s capacity. An astrology student may see Atma Karaka, Yoga Karaka, or a Yogi planet in debilitation or at a problematic degree (like visha nadi) and may ask: Is this planet good or bad? Which results will it bring? Which influence, negative or positive, will take precedence?

This is when the role and function of the planet get additionally confused with its capacity. The avastha, or state of the planet, together with its position in the zodiac, house placement, aspects, and conjunctions, reveals the capacity of the planet, not its actual role or intention. When a planet such as a Yoga Karaka is at a problematic degree or in debilitation, it should not be disregarded and labelled as a bad planet, but as a struggling planet. A Yogi planet or Yoga Karaka, in most cases, wants to bring more harmony and success into your life—but its capacity to do so diminishes in troublesome placements, and this may require more work from an individual.

Think about a good-hearted person who perhaps genuinely wants to help a charitable cause but may struggle to do so because their funds are limited. This is where the distinction between intention and capacity becomes important.

This is why all the questions you often see on social media—“I have this or that planet in this or that placement; is it good or bad?”—are essentially pointless, and I personally never entertain them. Not only do they take the bigger picture of the whole chart completely out of the equation, but they also try to dumb down something that usually holds much more depth.

So next time someone asks you the question, “Is this planet good or bad?” the best way to answer it is: Good and bad for what, and in which context?