Muhammad Ali

Some souls arrive to climb, and Muhammad Ali climbed to the very top of the mountain and then dared the world to knock him down. His Sun shines in Capricorn, the old-soul climber, disciplined and dependable, whose whole identity organises around the slow, relentless ascent to the highest rung. That Saturnian Sun sits in the sixth house of work, health and daily devotion, and there was Ali, the Lion King of everyday duty, training in the gym long before dawn, burning to shine through his craft. Born Cassius Clay in Louisville in 1942, he laced up gloves at twelve, took Olympic gold in Rome at eighteen, and shocked the world by taking the heavyweight crown from Sonny Liston in 1964.

But his Moon lives in Aquarius, the selfless collective psyche fused with the tribe of humanity, the crazy-genius wave that topples the sandcastle so a new one can rise. This is the man who refused Vietnam on principle, surrendered his titles rather than his conscience, and became an icon of a whole generation. A Leo Ascendant gave him that regal, magnetic presence: he entered a room and every head turned. He held the torch, and he still does.