Ghost Ships of the Abyss

Saturn Stations Retrograde

The defining astrological aspect of summer 2024 is hands down the Jupiter-Saturn square. Although the aspect won’t perfect until August 19, it hit me right away. From a sign-based perspective, the square became active as soon as Jupiter entered Gemini on May 25. When the big benefic switched signs, it entered my 9th House of travel, sending me on two long-distance trips for a pair of weddings (because Gemini is about pairs). Obviously, it was endless fun to flit about the country, connecting with friends old and new. Omens burst before my eyes. A sunrise over Mt. Hood. Rainbows over forests. Lightning bolts over the Texas plains. These adventures filled me with fresh inspiration. However, when I returned home, I crashed hard.

Despite the desire to soar, I found myself struggling to stay afloat. Saturn in Pisces, that Great Leviathan of the Depths, stares down Jupiter in Pisces from the superior position. It beckons the eagle and spirits of the air to dive. “Come away from the Sun, O Icarus! Plunge into the sea.” 

With this Saturnian pressure bearing down, I realized that achieving Geminian flight was going to require a high escape velocity. Beaten about by the briny blue, I simply did not have energy to rise above the waves. Weary of treading water, the undertow became alluring. Sirens of the deep slipped their slim fingers around my ankles and pulled me under.

When Saturn entered Pisces in March of last year, it entered my 6th House - a place of toil and torment, a place where flesh is pitted against reality’s taxmen. Here, we fall ill, we trade our hard-earned time for pay, and we work for dreams whose realization we may never see. Mars rejoices in this fleshy place of sweat and sacrifice. Having cold Saturn creeping through this space has brought a clear awareness: my time and energy are limited.

Keenly aware of my physical limitations, Saturn in my 6th house brought a strong foundation of routines. A tight regimen of meditation, magic, yoga, writing. Fueled by Mars materia, I became a workhorse. I accomplished a lot during that time spent under tension. But when Saturn started slowing down, so did I. My well had run dry. 

About a month ago, I dropped all of this. No write-ups, no graphics, no videos. No content. Practicing astrology on top of parenting and teaching full-time is a grind. Making content is a grind. Like Sysyphus, I threw my shoulder to the boulder every day. I pushed strenuously up the hillside, slept little, then awoke to do it all over again. As Saturn slows to a halt, I’m pausing to reflect what that season of steady effort brought me. Saturn swings its scythe, so I take stock of everything I’ve reaped.

Saturn works on grand time scales. Some can build homes in matters of days or weeks. Saturn would rather construct a cathedral over a century. Such monumental works come only from patient, incremental efforts. Building stone by stone may seem slow, but its continued and disciplined application can bring rich rewards. Patience is a (Saturnian) virtue. 

Saturn is coming to a standstill now. It stations retrograde at 19° Pisces at 12:06 PM Pacific. Today. Its ship lists carelessly in the doldrums and the keel becomes tangled in seaweed. The infinite ocean sprawls out before you, but somewhere beyond the horizon lies the distant shore. Ask yourself: where are you sailing to? Why? Why are you taking this journey? What are you carrying with you? What is demanding your patience, love, sweat, and toil? What have you reaped thus far and what requires further time to mature?

This journey isn’t over. We won’t be officially rid of Saturn in Pisces until February 13, 2026. Despite the month-long break, I inevitably find myself returning to astrology again. There’s no escaping the stars, no escaping the sense of wonder and deep meaning that comes from engaging this practice. As Saturn picks up speed again this summer, I’ll surely be making content again, but with further boundaries in place to prevent burnout.

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