The anaretic or final degree of Aquaria is so odd and tangential, times by eleventy when mixed with fresh retrograde Mercing. That was yesterday’s prelude to the sun’s plunge into Pisces and our latest initiation point. Now we dive into Neptunia.
Pisces is our shamanic sight line, the domain of peak emo as barometer and compass. Intuition is the native language. Feelings are the mother tongue. Their expression is an invitation into vulnerability as your new favourite soothsaying superpower.
When you drop your guard, peel off the lady armour and speak from your heart, you invite everyone to do the same. When you do it well, you model emotional currency for those who haven’t ever visited their own bank. In a world too often bereft of compassion or true empathy, this is manna for the mindless.
Those who deserve a pretty place in your deep ocean will meet you in kind. Those who cannot will do no more than flap about in the shallows that betray, wailing about your depth or bemoaning their lack of courage to let go of a safe shoreline. You won’t even hear them underwater, darkling.
Tis time to dive deep and swim with all the little fishes. Pretty ripples signal your evolutionary intention and radiate from your hummingbird heart. Align only with the kind of gilded guidance that doesn’t need the old maps and lives within. Claim its siren song as your own.
No time to catch your breath. Once your lungs were gills, heavy feet were deft tails and your eyes communicated more than your voice. And so it is again.
Art by Tim Walker
Words c. Kerrie Basha 2020