The Pebble in Your Shoe: Bukowski’s List of 6th House Torments
In his poem "The Shoelace", Charles Bukowski depicts the thousand little obstacles and delays that 'send a man to the madhouse'.
The poem actually starts with 8th house things, the huge, unexpected blows, the horrible catastrophes, only to say those are not necessarily the ones that will destroy you mentally and emotionally. Unless, of course, you fail to rebuild yourself and remain trapped in crisis through PTSD or other chronic afflictions.
But Charles Bukowski wants to make a different point. He aims at crafting a literary contrast between life’s grand tragedies—which paradoxically can activate our survival instincts—and something as mundane as a shoelace. The result is a poetic image as powerful as it is elegant.
it’s not the large things that
send a man to the
madhouse. death he’s ready for, or
murder, incest, robbery, fire, flood…
no, it’s the continuing series of small tragedies
that send a man to the
madhouse…
not the death of his love
but a shoelace that snaps
with no time left …
You could almost hear it snap.
We know the saying: it isn’t the mountain ahead that wears you out—it’s the pebble in your shoe. (An earlier 20th century version spoke of a “grain of sand” in the shoe.)
For Bukowski it becomes “a shoelace that snaps / with no time left”. Like a tuning fork, the image acts as a prelude to the most caustic yet poignant urban word symphony. You can read the full poem at the end of this post.
The Daily Grind: 6th House Manifestations
It isn’t the mountain. It’s the thousand little obstacles and delays that keep coming, like tiny leeches when you have a prominent 6th house (or an afflicted 6th lord), year after year, decade after decade if you’re still here, sapping your joy, undermining your trust in life.
Everything that should be quick takes longer; everything that should be easy turn out to be harder. The huge effort you invest never truly pays off, whether because you earn so little, or because it ultimately makes you ill.
Obstacles, delays, dreadful routine, poor health, and enemies are all 6th house things in traditional astrology.
12th House Release: The Other Side of Suffering
Now, its opposite, the 12th house, has to do with getting free from worldly duties. This release can manifest in distressing ways, like being bedridden, committed to a mental institution or imprisoned. Yet the 12th house could also signify voluntary withdrawal—embracing monastic life, traveling to distant countries, seeking seclusion, or pursuing research.
In any case, the opposite from the 6th house is this place where the pebble in your shoe ceases to be your problem. It becomes the responsibility of others or institutions. It no longer wears you down because, in a sense, it has served its purpose: whether by literally driving you to madness, as Bukowski tells us (the 12th house indeed signifies “the result of the enemy’s actions”1), or by leading you toward contemplative detachment from worldly concerns.
Upachaya: It’s Getting Better All the Time
Yet there is hope. Being an Upachaya or a “growing house” as it is known in Vedic astrology2, the 6th house will eventually get better for you, because you will get better at it. Over time, if the 6th lord is not heavily afflicted, you do tend to become more knowledgeable, and perhaps more patient in dealing with the 6th house “continuing series of small tragedies”. These challenges may even become an area of expertise. And if not, there are effective remedial measures available—but that’s a topic for another post.
When I received Bukowski’s poem in my inbox a few days ago from the Poetic Outlaws Substack I thought it offered one of the most beautifully daunting descriptions of what having a prominent natal 6th house can feel like, especially when you’re running a tough Dasha or enduring a challenging transit.
No, it’s not the 8th house that will drive you mad, sings Bukowski. It’s the ongoing torment of 6th house frustration.
After all, the 6th is the 12th from the 7th house of desire. So it represents the loss of that desire, its ending. It’s all the little things that prevent you from just getting there and taking what pleases you. It’s everything that is dysfunctional and painstakingly slows you down. A sick body. A flat tire. A shoe coming undone.
Here’s a masterful poetic inventory of 6th house matters, delivered with dark humor.
The Shoelace
By: Charles Bukowski
a woman, a
tire that’s flat, a
disease, a
desire: fears in front of you,
fears that hold so still
you can study them
like pieces on a
chessboard…
it’s not the large things that
send a man to the
madhouse. death he’s ready for, or
murder, incest, robbery, fire, flood…
no, it’s the continuing series of small tragedies
that send a man to the
madhouse…
not the death of his love
but a shoelace that snaps
with no time left …
The dread of life
is that swarm of trivialities
that can kill quicker than cancer
and which are always there -
license plates or taxes
or expired driver’s license,
or hiring or firing,
doing it or having it done to you, or
roaches or flies or a
broken hook on a
screen, or out of gas
or too much gas,
the sink’s stopped-up, the landlord’s drunk,
the president doesn’t care and the governor’s
crazy.
light switch broken, mattress like a
porcupine;
$105 for a tune-up, carburetor and fuel pump at
sears roebuck;
and the phone bill’s up and the market’s
down
and the toilet chain is
broken,
and the light has burned out -
the hall light, the front light, the back light,
the inner light; it’s
darker than hell
and twice as
expensive.
then there’s always crabs and ingrown toenails
and people who insist they’re
your friends;
there’s always that and worse;
leaky faucet, christ and christmas;
blue salami, 9 day rains,
50 cent avocados
and purple
liverwurst.
or making it
as a waitress at norm’s on the split shift,
or as an emptier of
bedpans,
or as a carwash or a busboy
or a stealer of old lady’s purses
leaving them screaming on the sidewalks
with broken arms at the age of 80.
suddenly
2 red lights in your rear view mirror
and blood in your
underwear;
toothache, and $979 for a bridge
$300 for a gold
tooth,
and china and russia and america, and
long hair and short hair and no
hair, and beards and no
faces, and plenty of zigzag but no
pot, except maybe one to piss in
and the other one around your
gut.
with each broken shoelace
out of one hundred broken shoelaces,
one man, one woman, one
thing
enters a
madhouse.
so be careful
when you
bend over.
You can find this poem in Bukowski’s 1972 book — MOCKINGBIRD WISH ME LUCK
I really appreciate the Poetic Outlaws Substack, curated by Erik Rittenberry. I will be drawing from it, as the wonderful poetry shared there often captures the essence of astrological houses and symbols in astonishing ways.
- Brihat Parashara Hora Sastra, ch. 11, “Indications of Bhavas”, 13: “Loss/expense, the result of the enemy’s actions, gain of last possession, all this should be known by the wise from Vyaya.” Translated by Ernst Wilhelm, from his online courses, https://astrology-videos.com ↩︎
- Brihat Parashara Hora Sastra, ch. 7, “Divisional Considerations”, 33-36: “Sahaj, Ari, Karm and Labh Bhava are Upachaya Bhavas.” https://archive.org/details/ParasharaHoraSastra/page/n15/mode/1up?view=theater (accessed 25 November 2024) ↩︎