We've all heard by now that the International Astronomical Union (IAU) voted to demote Pluto and take away its full status as a planet. What actually happened, however, is that Pluto was reclassified as a dwarf planet, along with Ceres and something called 2003 UB313.For several reasons, we can set aside the fact that, from a scientific standpoint, the new definition of a planet is pretty much a joke. In order to come up with the definition and exclude all new discoveries since 1846, the guys really had to stretch. There really is nothing that the eight remaining official planets all have in common, except for not having been discovered in the 20th century.

The alternative, however, seemed frightening to the myopic science-minds gathered in Prague: If a broader definition were accepted, and Pluto, Ceres, and UB313 were admitted as official planets, about 50 more objects would qualify immediately. This would, in theory, be confusing to schoolchildren and ruin the "magic" of the solar system—ah, yes, once again, the excuse of trying to protect kids. But this makes as much sense as entomologists saying, "There are enough kinds of insects. This new six-legged critter walking around on that log is not a bug. He's small, and he might have cousins."

The change makes more sense astrologically than it does scientifically. Anyone who has looked at the subject is aware that minor planets make a big difference as they move through your chart. No astrologer thinks Pluto is less important now that it's a minor planet; we all have way too much experience, and respect, for that. Rather, most of the people I'm hearing seem to welcome the reclassification as a way of rethinking Pluto and its heavy themes, as well as welcoming Ceres and this newcomer, 2003 UB313, into awareness.

Basically, scientists have perhaps inadvertently opened the door to minor planet astrology. The implication is that because Pluto is so effective, these other things might have some use as well.

Meanwhile, the solar system doesn't get officially rearranged every day, so this is a big metaphor for something. (It does get physically rearranged every day because there are new discoveries on a near-daily basis.) But face it, the fact of constant discoveries of planets, pretty much since 1977, has not been taught in school, and most astrologers have, frankly, not given a holy darn or half a thought about discoveries like UB313 until very recently. Astrology is slow to catch up with new developments in science. Pluto was not a widely accepted planet (by astrologers) until the mid-1970s.

The great thing about what has shaken down the past couple of weeks is that it's more true to say that the solar system consists of eight planets, plus a number of unusual things like Ceres, Pluto, and Xena, than it is to say nine planets and leave it at that. At least if we say eight planets plus other stuff, we remember the other stuff. If the solar system is a model of consciousness, expanding its boundaries suggests that awareness is changing in some way. If the solar system is some kind of collective body, then there is something about us that is changing, in the collective or transpersonal sense.

Even if you sell used cars and the most important thing in your life is baseball, you're vaguely aware that the Earth and Sun are part of a solar system and the model of that critter can conjure vivid mental images and stir us on the psychic level. When more planets are acknowledged, the energy they represent stirs to life in our minds, and in our larger collective life, including as events in both. There are always collective shifts around the time new planetary discoveries are acknowledged, and it happens that in the era of the solar system being redefined we are experiencing more collective change than most of us have yet imagined.