Every year as the planets one by one precess into Pisces, I find my self losing steam. Ordinary daily activities seem to take more time, doing the dishes, laundry, taking care of the animals creeps into the daily agenda and suddenly these little persnickety things, that endless to do list that makes life function, dominates. Pisces is on my sixth house cusp, that’s the house of among other things, the mundane life. Or as I’ve been known call it, the house of grunt and grow work. Pisces has been great for furthering my skill and craft in astrology at my teacher’s bi-annual workshop (apprenticeship=6th house), and for the love and affection I’m genuinely feeling toward my new cat (pets=6th house). But an observation I make and also hear from clients this time of year: projects move slowly and people are missing in action, daresay it, wishy-washy. Plans simmer on the back-burner and when nothing’s happening our minds go into idle mode, feeding our anxieties and uncertainties. I remind them, and myself, that it’s the time of year. Pisces symbolizes the seasonal end of a cycle.
Astrology can be that seasonal & that literal. Whereas when the Sun moves into Aries, the pace picks up as change grows palpable, during Pisces, like tipsy sailors inebriated with heady fruits and hopes of the entire cycle, we’ve been given ‘last call’ so before our mascara starts running and/or we start crying the right thing to do is call it a night. For those who track the monthly shift of inner planets moving through houses of their birth chart, that’s where the seasonal astrology gets personal. I’ve come to know that my energy will be lower during Pisces season because it is my sixth house time of year. I also know my health will need attention. But even as I write this I’m presented with the typical Pisces conundrum: any sixth house time of year makes demands on one’s energy (there’s usually more work to do), and with mysterious Pisces involved, health answers aren’t straightforward. Be prepared to laugh at the hilarious absurdity of it all during Pisces. Case in point, while trying to cut back on my pleasure-drug, coffee, I begin drinking an herbal tea latte concoction and think the headaches I’m getting are from caffeine withdrawal -until- a new symptom occurs and I realize it’s that teaspoon of coconut sugar in the latte. I want to experience what it’s like to not be energetically owned –but- I also want my coffee back. Pisces reminds us of our own self-undoing, our crutches that hold us up like puppets, supporting us in folly or dis-ease.
Even astrology can provide an easy source of self-undoing. You know what I mean. A friend tells you the reason everything is stuck in her life is because Saturn has been transiting one planet or another, for years. Or say, you tell your self that very thing, without realizing you’re tying your own hands behind your back and you’ve been doing that, for years. About any rut we find our self in, we might ask: can I change my problem by changing my thinking about it? I’m thinking of those times I’ve asked myself that question and arrived at a deeper level of self-realization and clarity. Shifting our consciousness is a Houdini power of Pisces.
Sometimes we’re perpetuating our own funky negativity during Pisces. As I very literally lost steam for doing anything at all really, instead of emptily slogging along as I’ve been known to do (6th house Mars in Aries), in a radical move I went to bed at 4 PM and watched movies. I don’t do this form of escape very often; I don’t have a t.v. As I was perusing the downloads, a Netflix angel err suggestion popped up: ‘you might like: Steam‘. Steam centers around the lives of three women who periodically run into each other in the steam sauna of their gym. When a likable character played by Ruby Dee mumbles that she can feel all the fatigue, troubles and pains of life being steamed right out of her, the others give her the ‘crazy lady’ look. But by movie’s end the characters had outgrown their own problems, and through the magical powers of sauna steam had discovered surrendered bliss. During Pisces season we have the chance to become bigger than our problems and in that radical act discover sweet liberation.
To go with the flow of the season, we can walk in the shoes of the sign. In Pisces, to practice ‘letting go and letting god.’ To name our insecurities and our uncertainty which come up in spades. To admit that we feel trapped or confused about an area of our life. There’s a dreamy siren call that comes with Pisces too, asking us to gently acknowledge the difference between genuine dreams and pie-in-the-sky dreaming. To allow our consciousness to rest on the difference between the things, activities, people and thoughts that offer uplift and escape and escapism. To trust a little more, that things we’ve set in motion are coming together. And to not use the astrology of the season as an excuse not to live in the moment, but become more present to it.
At an astrologer for hire event last Sunday, myself and another astrologer found our readings to be more psychic, which often happens in spontaneous ‘in the moment’ readings. Gathering intuitive information by being present to the living moment, that’s Pisces, the Psychic. Afterwards, as we walked outside into the sunny but still chill air, we both shivered and agreed: we couldn’t wait for the warm, fresh energy of Aries at the spring equinox this upcoming weekend. Yep, when the Sun enters Aries we will finally get to be outdoors, the sun will shine, new beginnings all around… and our troubles will just go away altogether. (Wink.)