The Psychology Behind Astrology: A Personal Journey of Belief, Doubt, and Realisation

From the time I was little, I was fascinated by the unseen. I remember waiting for the Sunday newspaper, eager to flip to the horoscope column. Not because I believed it blindly, but because I was curious. I loved showing my palm to any roadside palmist who claimed to see something unusual. Later, I devoured books on numerology, palmistry, and astrology. Each prediction felt like a story waiting to unfold.

But as I grew, so did my questions. If two people shared the same zodiac sign or numerological number, why did their lives unfold so differently? The answer I always heard was karma. “It is your past and present deeds that shape your destiny,” people said. Yet another puzzle arose: if karma and planetary positions were so powerful, how could a simple ritual — feeding the poor, chanting a mantra, or donating a cloth — really alter one’s fate?

As a number 4 — ruled by Rahu — I recognised myself inl the descriptions: unconventional paths, mental restlessness, delays, and rebellion. But I kept wondering: how does chanting a mantra for Rahu actually change anything in the cosmos?

These questions were not just intellectual; they were personal.

The Influence of My Upbringing

My father, a psychologist and educationist, shaped much of my way of thinking. Rational, disciplined, and deeply thoughtful, he never performed rituals or fasts. Yet his library held everything from psychology and literature to Ayurveda, poetry, astrology, and palmistry. His philosophy was clear: read everything, not to accept it blindly, but to understand it deeply.

My childhood, however, was steeped in devotion. Mondays were for keertans, every festival saw our home temple decorated, and I recited the Bhagavad Gita daily. Faith was part of my rhythm. But over time, life tested me. When things went wrong, I questioned God. When things went right, I saw divine grace. My beliefs swayed like a pendulum between surrender and rejection.

Psychology vs. Astrology: What Really Works?

Years later, after counselling practice, PhD research in music therapy, and postgraduate studies in counselling, I began to see things differently. What often seems like the “power” of rituals is, in fact, the power of the human mind.

Planets are not emotional beings waiting to be pleased. They are cosmic markers, patterns in the sky. When we chant a mantra, we do not change Saturn, Rahu, or Mars — we change ourselves. The repetition calms our nervous system, steadies our breath, and reshapes our thoughts. Psychologically, a mantra functions as an affirmation. Spiritually, it gives us grounding. The shift happens within, and as we change inwardly, the way we respond to life’s challenges begins to change too.

I remember counselling a young man terrified of Saturn’s sade saati. He would wake at 4 a.m., chant endlessly, and avoid starting anything on Saturdays. Through therapy, we uncovered the root of his fear: childhood memories of failure. The mantras gave him discipline and hope, but the real healing came from self-regulation, reframing his beliefs, and addressing his wounds. Saturn had not changed — he had.

Culture, Cosmos, and Control

Growing up in India, it is impossible to ignore astrology’s cultural weight. Marriages, careers, even moving into a new home — all were often charted by the stars. Astrology offers comfort in the idea that our lives are part of a grand design.

In contrast, Western psychology teaches self-efficacy, behavioral tools, and cognitive restructuring. Yet even in the West, people search for meaning in symbols — through archetypes, tarot, or dreamwork. The languages differ, but the longing is the same: to make sense of chaos, to find order in uncertainty.

The Science Behind Rituals

Modern psychology helps us understand why rituals and beliefs feel powerful:

Repetition and breath in mantras reduce cortisol and calm the nervous system (Srinivasan, 2010).

Rituals and donations restore a sense of agency when life feels unpredictable (Krause & Hayward, 2015).

Spiritual practices act as grounding anchors, offering structure and moral purpose.

The placebo effect shows how belief itself can trigger healing (Price et al., 2008).

Even Carl Jung described astrology as a symbolic mirror of the unconscious, not a fixed script of destiny.

My Realisation

Today, I no longer see astrology as superstition, nor as absolute truth. I see it as a reflective framework — a mirror of tendencies and archetypes that helps us interpret life. It may not change events, but it changes how we prepare for them, how we respond, and how we grow.

As a number 4, I still notice Rahu’s “energy” in my life. But I now understand that remedies work not because the cosmos bends, but because the mind heals.

My late father’s wisdom, my own spiritual upbringing, my studies in psychology and music therapy, and conversations across cultures have all led me here: to a place where belief and doubt coexist, where ritual and psychology meet, where healing is both inward and shared.

I still light a diya, I still chant a mantra — but now, I do it not to change my stars, but to steady my own sky.

In the end, fate feels like a delicate dance — a rhythm shaped by planetary patterns, karmic echoes, and, most importantly, the choices we make in each moment.

It was never about changing the stars above me.

It was always about quieting the storm within.