Saturn is the longest middle finger that, curiously enough, is understood to be a phallic symbol when extended towards another person. We call it “flipping the bird.”
In palmistry, however, Saturn is understood to be the finger of authority.
And if your rising fate line ends in the mound of Saturn, this is a sign of someone who has a great love in their hands.
An interesting Saturn finger I read recently was in Cincinnati. I had been asked to stay for two days to read for a series of women, starting every half an hour and running through Friday and Saturday.
Towards the end of the second day, I read for an elegantly-dressed, obviously gentle woman. She had come late for her appointment. The organizer had told me, ruefully, that she and her partner were retired. The organizer meant this as an explanation for their tardiness. Since they were no longer working, they weren’t that tuned in to time, she explained.
When I read this woman’s palms, she had clear vertical markings on the bottom two phalanges of her Saturn finger on both hands. I told her that she was meant to have mental and material authority – that she needed to have followers to direct.
She smiled and explained shyly that she was a retired professor of clinical psychology, and that she used to supervise dissertations. That meant she was an authority figure. She directed people, literally, with her mind, in the training of their minds, in order to bring about their material success. This small, frail woman was surprised to hear that this was reflected in her palms. I said she needed to continue this function of serving; to express the highest nature of her gifts.
She said she did miss teaching. I suggested that she see if she could teach as an Emeritus, even if it was just one class. This would put her up in front, establishing herself in the position of an authority figure; something that she needed to be to continue to pass on her wisdom to others. The world needed it, I stressed.
The second remarkable Saturn finger I read recently was of Jean Day, on a recent trip to Vermont. Jean spent her life as a dancer. She traveled to perform ballet and modern dance in India shortly after partition, working in the tradition of Isadora Duncan and Martha Graham. She lives in a remote corner of Craftsbury, overlooking the lake, where she cares for her senile husband, now in his nineties.
Jean said her father, a Theosophist, had risen her reading her palms. When she heard I was now practicing as a palmist, she was eager to have me read hers. So I did.
I have recommended previously in this column that the first thing to read is what jumps right out at you, since this will be the most significant and defining feature on the palm. And after tea and pumpkin cake with cream cheese, that is exactly what I did.
The first thing I saw was a very long line beginning high up on her Mound of Luna (the spiritual mound), then running all the way through the center of her palm up into the Saturn finger itself. I told her this meant that she brought down spiritual wisdom and shot it through the center of her palm, where this line formed one side of a leadership triangle. That it was her gift to the world; to draw down from her intuition to lead others with knowledge and discipline, as I knew she did.
My observation also provoked a gentle smile, in this instance. Jean, also a respected authority in her field, had developed and trained many generations of dancers in the style of natural movement. She had taught many students over the years – myself included – through the discipline of her intuitively-inspired work.
To exercise the influence that comes with authority was her destiny, as well.
Batya Weinbaum travels to read palms and is also available for online teaching and individual readings through the mail. Contact her at 216-233-0567 or email email@example.com