Astro Forecast 4.9.25: Mercury and Venus Are Also Over This Retrograde Shit
Our connection, communication, and discipline planets are stationing direct in the same place this week; a Pisces Decan that signifies illusions and endings.
What is happening?!
Welp, Neptune in Aries is already spicy, isn’t he? Poseidon is fulfilling his historic pattern of natural disasters, warmongering, and elevation of various delusional ideologies, and the other planetary gods are lining up and elbowing each other to get in on the action. This has been simmering for many years, of course, but the Temple of Aries is a very different place than Pisces, where our sea king was able to swim about and dissolve institutions without our noticing. No more of that, zodiacal comrades! The mist is dissipating and clarity is grabbing us by the crotch as Mars stomps through the last six degrees of Cancer, the place of feelings with a capital F; empathy, frustration, rage, despair, and anxiety are no longer escapable since this little red shit made a watery trine with his grandpappy, Saturn, on Saturday, April 5th.
Before we all get excited, it’s important to recognize that we’re not yet in a delusion-free zone. This is because Venus and Mercury are finally stationing direct, which is normally a reason to party, but there are weird caveats to these stations tied up with our oncoming full moon in Libra. This past Monday, zippy Mercury turned his tricky ass around at the twenty-sixth degree of Pisces just as Venus and Saturn formed a huge buzzkill of a conjunction at the twenty-fifth degree of Pisces. If that wasn’t enough action in the muddy Temple of The Fish, on this upcoming Saturday our besieged lady planet stations direct at the twenty-fourth degree of Pisces. What sort of goodies does Jupiter have laying about in this particular spot of his domicile? Is it chocolate chip cookies? Top shelf vodka? Cocaine*? Given recent headlines and geo-political events, I’m betting on cocaine.
*Cocaine users everywhere…"Coke? Why, do you have any? There’s blow in the fifth circle of hell, you say?! I have an errand to run, brb.”
In all seriousness, something important and pivotal is hidden in these late degrees of our final zodiac sign, nestled in a spot we call 'Decan III’ in astro speak. The combination of Venus and Saturn alone is a textbook signature of endings and break-ups, and the place they are teaming up in Pisces is only going to exacerbate our collective sense of termination - a dream dissolving, an alliance collapsing, and a release of old expectations. Anyone with rudimentary observational skills probably kens this dissolution with a glance at daily headlines; multiple atrocities are occurring around the globe right as the machinery of Western empire falters, or perhaps because of said faltering. The most powerful country in the world is dismantling a global order it built after WWII by erasing institutional checks on power, demolishing the constitutional rights of the citizenry, and turning on foreign allies. The shining city on the hill that Americans believed to be timeless is an aged, flickering bulb; a check engine light that, like our democracy, we ignored until the whole thing burnt out.
We’ll be in this place of endings, this shattering of illusions, throughout the rest of April, because Venus and Saturn won’t separate by more than three degrees until May 1st. At the micro level, any existing fault lines in partnerships are likely to crack open, as will any old dreams or projects to which we’ve clung in the hopes of revival. A time of grudging acknowledgement is nigh. Certain things in our lives have begun to decay, because despite the little zing of energy our sun gifted us when he moved into Aries, our personal planets are still mired in the compost muck of late Pisces. That ex you’ve been holding out hope for? It’s done - let them sink into oblivion. Supposed ‘friends’ whom you’ve long suspected are indifferent to your existence, if not downright antagonistic? Place them in the muddy bin with the ex, they are not going to change. You can expect the same of weakened professional alliances and any other element in your life that has long been unhelpful; the job you’ve been trying to love that is taking you nowhere, a parent you have lost to delusion, a shoddy apartment that is hardly worth it’s climbing rent.
Often, nostalgia tempts us to cling to emotional dead weight - not because we like it, but because we still see the old version of things. We really did love our ex, because back then they seemed worthy of it. Old friends are still perceived as loyal bulwarks against a cruel world, even after they’ve embraced the same cruelty. People’s faces can remain the same as their insides rust and break, so we delude ourselves that everything is fine until a jagged cog spears us in the chest and the evidence is too painful to ignore; key fragments are missing or busted, regardless of past attachment. Something close to us is over, and it isn’t just the global machinery breaking down, it’s all these little, personal things, too. We’ve had a pisser of a time moving on because letting go of intrinsic parts of oneself sucks balls, even in their obsolescence.
That we want to move forward and change our dire communal trajectory feels obvious, given the massive demonstrations that occurred in every state of the union this past weekend. Here in Seattle I was surprised, as a seasoned rabble rouser, to see a very different demographic clutching paper signs than I have at, say, BLM, Palestine, or abortion rights marches. It was a breezy 68 degrees beneath disturbingly blue skies, which anyone from the PNW will tell you is like finding gold doubloons in your backyard; essentially unheard of. (The crows would get to them first, anyway.)
A crowd gathered in our sunny tourism center that was mature, pale, and deeply committed to impromptu dog parties and drum circles. It was hard to tell which direction to head in; everywhere I turned I was blocked by someone in a cheeky message t-shirt holding a placard in one hand and a fresh Starbucks cup in the other. Buskers punctuated the sidewalks here and there eliciting subdued merriment from smaller groups who stopped to eat donuts, sandwiches and the like while sprawled on the lawn or leaning beneath awnings of surrounding buildings. One fellow was making a killing as a dancing violinist in the dappled shadow of the space needle, accepting both cash and digital transfers for his trouble. It was a scene full of people from a different time; one with an intact social contract and believable facade of good faith governance, back when a polite march would garner at least half-hearted acknowledgement from political representatives. Whether or not those things truly existed is up for debate, but I had hoped for an understanding among most people that they exist no longer.
Women are second-class citizens, black and brown people are third-class citizens, and trans people are no longer citizens at all. When your ruling class can decide you are an enemy of the state based on nothing more than appearance, arrest you, and fly you to a foreign prison without a speck of due process or transparent legal proceeding, we have already lost the plot. Things like free speech and due process are essential to the story written with one of those feather quills and ink on old timey parchment, the one that enumerates various truths we once considered self-evident and immutable. The folks gathered in city centers and on state capitol lawns were making a statement, certainly, but any rage or desperation was noticeably lacking. I find it hard to believe that if our government was arresting any of the souls at Saturday’s protest - mature, white, and monied - that there wouldn’t be more aggressive action levied against our wealthy, duplicitous lawmakers and their quadrillionaire backers. Perhaps it’s too difficult to maintain a drum circle when everyone’s enraged.
These final degrees of Pisces are a place of unmasking as well as endings, of seeing people and moments for what they are, not what they used to be. We can’t step into the fire of Aries trapped beneath misapprehension; it will be burned away, painfully and soon, if we don’t face it ourselves. So prepare to bid something farewell, something you’ve been white knuckling in your avoidance of change, because the rest of April is for goodbye; to an expired love, a false ideal, a pipe dream. Like the notion of justice prevailing, of an immortal empire, or of vigilant, steadfast courage prevailing in the face of tyranny instead of a slow betrayal, measured out to the beat of some hippie’s stupid drum.
Why would this affect me? I don’t care about ancient astrological math.
The breakdown goes something like this; an astrological season is contains about twenty-nine-ish days total, which means the variances in archetype can be dissected into three, ten-ish day chunks, or what esoteric crazies like myself refer to as Decans. This is a systematized way of understanding fluctuations in both the quality of time we experience here on good old planet Earth, as well as archetypal variances among individuals; for instance, a person born on March 23rd will share some, but not all of the archetypal Aries traits that a person born on April 6th will display, despite both of them celebrating birthdays in Aries season. A very simplified way of looking at Decans would be to consider the modalities of astrology, referred to as cardinal, fixed, and mutable. The same qualities we use to describe astrological modality, i.e. cardinal signs as initiatory, fixed signs as stubborn, and mutable signs as totally insane can also be applied to a planetary transit in one whole house sign; the first ten degrees are a place of beginnings, the second ten are a place of stability, and the final ten are a place of transitions and endings.
Our sun is historically the most important celestial body, since we would all, you know, die without it, which is why many ancient civilizations systems used a solar day/month/year as the mathematical foundation upon which to build cultural and spiritual systems. This system ends up breaking down quite nicely by equating a solar day to one astrological degree, which makes the first set of ten or so days our sun spends in one sign Decan I (cardinal), the second set Decan II (fixed), and the final set of days Decan III (mutable). As we apply this to ever more distant planets, the length of time spent in each degree lengthens so that every planet gets about thirty, a mathematical feat dudes like Ptolemy and Gallileo worked out via hours upon hours staring at the night sky instead of YouTube shorts, so any issues you have with this math can be addressed to them.
Golden Dawn and Thoth tarot systems incorporated these Decans into the minor arcana of tarot, assigning one pip card to each Decan of each zodiac sign and arranging them by corresponding element; wands for fire, pentacles for earth, swords for air, and cups for water. Using this system, the final ten degrees of Pisces equate to the final pip card of the water element in tarot, the Ten of Cups. This card is a visual representation of the sticky place in Pisces that Mercury, Saturn, and Venus are running over repeatedly, like homicidal drivers ensuring their victim is incontrovertibly dead.
The Ten of Cups is an optimistic card on its face, much like Pisces people seem happy until they’re alone and able to slip off the mask they wear around others. Traditionally R.W.S. imagery presents the Ten of Cups as a happy family, turned away from us and gazing contentedly at chalices suspended in the sky. (Very Lynchian.) The element of water in both tarot and astrology is a symbol of our emotions, intuition, and connectivity with others, acting here as the perfect allegory for the last gasp of fluid Pisces as we cross over to the blazing sun of Aries; the prismatic glory of a fine mist refracting sunbeams to create a rainbow.
When we dig deeper into this imagery, questions arise. Why are we only seeing the backs of this family? The child in the picture has ceased playing and is pointing aggressively at the rainbow in a way that feels accusatory instead of bewildered, as though we’re missing something ominous. The card shown above is from a deck that features all retirees as tarot characters, yet in this image the figures are drawn with vibrant hair and slim figures, clearly the parents of an impossibly young child. The implication that this is a memory or dream instead of reality dampens a wholly positive interpretation; things might seem perfect, the Ten of Cups says, but it is an illusion.
The Thoth version of the Ten of Cups makes it even clearer that something is awry by highlighting the planetary ruler of Pisces’ last ten degrees; malefic Mars, the war god of action, strategy, and aggression. Mars in Pisces denotes unstoppable destruction and transition and The Tower, a major arcana correspondence to Mars, shows the same thing via a charred, crumbling building. We can’t ever go back inside, The Tower insists. We’ll have to build something else. The Moon, Pisces’ major arcana, is a card of shadows, illusion, and obfuscation, which acts as a false front when combined with The Tower. The destruction is real, but we are pretending it isn’t by manufacturing a facade of happiness in sunny suburbia. Just don’t look too closely at anyone’s face.
This is the place our planets are forcing us to reappraise - first in late January, as the U.S. administration began mass firing federal employees, and now in mid-April, as Venus and Mercury station direct and enormous chunks of the country are freshly unemployed and anxious about the economy beholden to Venus’ rule. Planets in retrograde are exasperated with us because we aren’t getting the hint; we are missing something important in these final degrees, and now Saturn, God of Bummers, is sitting with Venus to amplify her message. The deception must cease and the truth must be faced, in whatever area of our lives we’ve been too slow to face it.
When do I have to deal with this?
The major aspects beaming down on us actually began this past weekend, and because they involve our speedier personal planets having conversations with much slower outer planets, most of these influences will hang around until April 11th or 12th, at least. The major astrological happenings this week will also have longer shadows of influence, mainly because once we hit mid-April, a different, more volatile set of aspects will take the reins and build on the foundation we set up this weekend. I suppose what I’m saying is that if you have the money and the time, taking a nap until June isn’t a terrible idea.
4.4.25 - 4.25.25: Saturn in Pisces Makes a Sextile to Uranus in Taurus and Takes Enormous Joy in Smashing Old Paradigms
Saturn in Pisces: Geriatric, formerly hard ass patriarch who discovered the joy of watercolor in his twilight years; spoils his terror of a grandson, has a pocket full of Werthers
Uranus in Taurus: Once a precocious computer prodigy, now lives for sneaker drops, blockchain, Bitcoin, financial anarchy
A quick reminder about sextiles; they are a harmonious aspect that perfects when planets are sixty degrees apart on the horoscope wheel, and they connect the agenda of both planets in a mutually beneficial way. Old Man Kronos is less aggressive and more open-minded in Pisces than he would be in, say, Aries, so he’ll likely go along with whatever disruptive, mechanized vision that Uranus is attempting to implement. Considering the planet of electrical wizardry is still in generative, security-loving Taurus, we could see disruptions or timing issues with payment apps, digital commerce, and money markets. (I always think of the bull sculpture on Wall Street. when I am relating to Taurus.) It wouldn’t surprise me if a new app or digital currency dominates the headlines in late April, possibly alongside a radical upheaval of current currency formats, like a federal plan to eliminate cash entirely or, oh I dunno, crash the global economy.
4.4.25 - 4.9.25: Mars in Cancer Wants in On The Action, also Forms a Sextile to Uranus in Taurus
Mars in Cancer: That dude in couples therapy who is visibly biting his tongue and clenching his fists to hold back his rage
Uranus in Taurus: Once a precocious computer prodigy, now lives for sneaker drops, blockchain, Bitcoin, financial anarchy
Mars is deeply uncomfortable in The Temple of The Moon, which makes his influence here more passive-aggressive than usual. It might show up in the form of a digital trade war, perhaps, or a public battle over electronic currency that results in an unorthodox outcome. The war god also loves risk-taking, though, and his hand holding with Uranus might nudge us toward bold new ventures in our personal lives, especially when it comes to technology, currency, and science.
4.1.25 - 4.12.25: Mars in Cancer Makes a Trine to Saturn in Pisces, and It’s Officially Time To Scream About Our Feelings
Mars in Cancer: That dude in couples therapy who is visibly biting his tongue and clenching his fists to hold back his rage, sulks in his garage late at night
Saturn in Pisces: Geriatric, formerly hard ass patriarch who discovered the joy of watercolor in his twilight years; spoils his terror of a grandson, has a pocket full of Werthers
This is a Grandpa/Grandson therapy session that warms the cockles of my cold, dead heart. Saturn wants to help us transcend our anger management issues by getting weird and talking about our emotions, and Mars wants us to get proactive about our situation once we admit those feelings. This is ideal astrological weather for being honest about the emotional impact that *looks out window* literally everything is having on us, and coming up with a plan to fight our despair.
4.7.25 - End of April: Mercury Stations Direct and Venus Conjoins Saturn in Pisces To Tell Us They’re Not Mad, Just Disappointed
Mercury in Pisces: Annoyingly involved, enthusiastic therapist who spends just as much time in their own therapy as they do seeing clients, got into ceramics after getting sober
Venus in Pisces: Woo-woo gal who makes money designing her own crystal jewelry and giving disturbingly accurate psychic readings
Saturn in Pisces: Geriatric, formerly hard ass patriarch who discovered the joy of watercolor in his twilight years; spoils his terror of a grandson, has a pocket full of Werthers
There is no way any of us are escaping this planetary confabulation without a trauma reveal, past life breakthrough, or twelve hour crying jag. We might do all three once Mercury gets us talking, Venus tells us the truth, and Saturn smacks us upside the head like an errant child and tells us to pay attention or we’re going to the corner. Like the Ten of Cups, something is hiding behind a facade of normalcy and it is past time we kicked it over. Check your chart for any placements in the third Decan of the mutable signs, especially Pisces - this is the are of life with a secret to reveal.
4.12.25 - End of April: Stationing Venus and a Libra Full Moon Scream at Us To Move the Fuck On, Already
Venus in Pisces: Woo-woo gal who makes money designing her own crystal jewelry and giving disturbingly accurate psychic readings
Moon in Libra: Collective of ageless ride or dies who all had a feeling your ex was a cheater, caught them in the act, then secretly coordinated keying their car and leaving poop on the hood because they fucking deserved it
Full moons shine light on shadowed places in our lives, and this Venus-ruled lunation has gathered all the information she needs to blow something shady wide open. Look at where Libra lands in your chart to see how loudly this might manifest, as well as any placements around the twenty-third degree of any cardinal sign. As an aside, give a big hug to friends with strong Aries, Cancer, Libra, or Capricorn placements, because they have been walking through fire since the start of this foul year.
Killjoy Saturn and an exalted Venus are still buddies for this moon, which might feel like going to a tarot reader who pulls no punches and is so exasperated by your obtuseness that she just screams, "DUMP. HIM.”, while slamming your cards on the table. A reading with me, basically.
Fuck a nap until June sounds so nice. My only third Decan natal planet happens to be…… Saturn. 🤗🫣 I’ll be under a pile of blankets…… maybe just under the bed…… 🫠
Venus and Mercury in late Virgo, Asc in late Capricorn, Chiron in late cancer and Sun in Libra, this one talked to my soul! This month will keep me on my toes !