Over the years, I have been consulted by people from every possible rung of the economic ladder — the poor, the lower middle class, the middle class, the upper middle class, the rich, and the super rich. Each of them has come with different anxieties, ambitions, and curiosities. Yet, one observation has struck me as both strange and profound: the two groups who have shown the deepest respect for my profession are the poor and the super rich.
The poor approach astrology with humility. Life has given them fewer resources, fewer opportunities, and often, fewer illusions. They do not question the value of guidance, because when you have little, you hold on to every ray of light you can find. Their respect comes from gratitude — that someone is willing to help them navigate life’s storms.
The super rich, on the other hand, arrive from the opposite direction. They have seen and owned everything money can buy. Yet, despite their power and privilege, they are aware of how fragile life truly is. Wealth cannot shield them from illness, loss, betrayal, or fate. They respect astrology because they know the limits of material success — and they seek counsel from a place of wisdom, not desperation.
It is the middle groups — lower middle, middle, and upper middle — who often display skepticism, argumentation, or even casual disrespect. Perhaps this is because they are still striving, still clinging to the belief that effort alone can bend destiny, or that rationality is the only valid lens for life. They are close enough to comfort to dismiss astrology, but not close enough to power to appreciate its depth.
And so, I’ve learned a paradox: the deepest respect for my work comes not from the middle, but from the edges. Those who have the least, and those who have the most, are the ones who truly recognize the value of what cannot be bought or calculated.