New Moon Watch: Adrift in Spring

The chart for this morning’s new moon in Aries shows nearly the entire solar system in a conspicuous pile-up against Saturn in Virgo.

Translated into human lingo, this symbolizes that gnawing feeling that everything and everyone in life is moving forward except for you. (Of course it’s all a big hallucination because, well, everyone else is registering the same sort of weariness and stuckness too, but added to the mix is a kind of Virgonian isolation bubble that prevents us from making that connection: Realizing we’re all on the Titanic together.)

Of course Saturn being Chronos, well, he remains unphased. Especially while he’s retrograde. (Is there anything more disheartening than the sense of time moving backwards?) Slowly, methodically digging his heels in deeper in reaction to the parade of planets residing opposite his Virgo soujourn. This is amplified by the ongoing Uranus opposition and now, add to the mix, a capricious Mars in Pisces putting the pressure on too.

Saturn’s respose: “Meh.”

We normally associate spring with new beginnings. Fresh starts. Sending our inner scout forward to see what new opportunities he or she can suss out for us. Well, best initiate Plan B From Outer Space. The Sun Moon conjunction coupled with the Venus Mercury transits in Aries signifies plenty of promise. But the guarantee of that visceral, get-up-and-go momentum that we associate with spring is held in abeyance. Think about it: That Aries grouping derives its fuel from a floaty and fluctuating Mars in Pisces. Too, Mars is in a Sargasso Sea-like opposition to Saturn. Glub. Glub … Sink. This is akin to trying to light a fuse with a wet match. Lots of striking and cursing, but just soggy bits of sulfur coloring our fingertips. Instead we feel like imploding.

Without a rudder and with too much daydreaming (or handwringing) related to current affairs: “Will I have a job next week?” And, “Did I really just spend 150 dollars for two bags of groceries?” Or worse, “Why do I feel so isolated?” the Mars Saturn opposition fuels dawdling, brooding and then later lashing out, often covertly, but often too late. Despite all that Piscean water, Mars is compelled to initiate something, anything new and challenging. Saturn isn’t buying. As Robert Hand writes about Father Time: “Saturn only deals with normal, day-to-day kinds of consciousness. It cannot anticipate the unprecedented, nor can it deal with the energies through which new life and creative powers enter the universe.”

What does Saturn in Virgo ask of us? Here’s your shopping list: Appreciating the small things in life. A sense of order (and sometimes even cleanliness). Developing systems that minimize waste. Ways of becoming more precise with our communication. There’s a sort of instant karma feeling related to how our mind works while Saturn moves through Virgo. So any inaccuracies you share, any lies you tell, tend to explode in your face. Take care.

Maybe we can take a raincheck on spring?

But back to Mars. It is his season after all. Contemplating the God of War in Pisces is a mindfuck. I can’t think of two more antithetical archetypes blending, and yet without Mars’ cruise through the oceanic there wouldn’t be any sort of softening to the greedy, goading Martian urge. Meaning, Mars’ force gone unchecked would simply expand and expand until the entire world was just one big barbecue pit.

The Pisces atmosphere etherealizes the selfish, animalistic side of Mars and brings out his, uhm, softer side. What does that look like exactly? Well, it’s a sort of tough love thing. Mars doesn’t really do anything “nice and easy” (to quote Ike and Tina Turner). If you’ve ever needed to have a pet put down because she was suffering with some incurable ailment, well, that’s Mars’ softer side. It’s compassion married to purging.

The new moon’s square to Pluto this morning echoes this theme too. Moving forward with that Arian impulse will mean leaving something behind. Simply put: Death allows for the kind of forward motion we’re dreaming about. That too is connected with the Mars in Pisces transit: The power of dreaming. Mars kicks, thrashes, spews and gurgles atop the surface of the water until he realizes that he needs to do something with his inherent drive to discover, his urge to pioneer, unearth, unleash. Time to dive for pearls!

Finding the pearl hidden in the depths of your unconscious will be your assigment during the next two weeks leading to the big full moon in April. Foster your inspiration this way: Allow spiritual forces to lead you by honing your intuitive concentration. This means exercising spiritual practices like meditation, contemplation, songwriting, art making — anything where you must marry concentration to fascination and inspiration. Too: Winning comes through yielding (the Mars in Pisces secret). Stay focused, curb your tendency towards melodrama (another Mars Pisces theme) and — DIVE!