No One Can Ever Write Enough About Saturn
Sometimes, you are shit out of luck. Luck screws you. Luck hates you. Luck leaves you. Of course, luck has nothing to do with anything. I love the word “luck.” When you have a murdered parent, you end up loving whatever you damn please. I love being alone, for example. I love coffee. I love very strange TV shows. I love Wheaten Terriers. I love, like really love, Sam Heughan.
When you peel the onion with the right knife, this crazy, f---ed up world makes some sense, especially if you believe in something—whether it’s a higher power, psychology, Saturn, or a blend of the three. Having a murdered parent also really makes you think about God, power, and the power of God. It also makes you wrestle with the clock, which in Astrology, is time and any schedule you create, adhere to, or fight against. We can kick the rocks, roll the rocks up the hill. or collect them, but in the end, rocks are still rocks. Some of us are conscious, but some of us are numb, dumb, and chock full of decay.
I was 27 years old when I found out my father was murdered. And like any normal person dealing with something as every day as that, I took a Continuing Education (very Gemini) night class called “World Religions” to process that, and also see what I believed in (twelve years of Catholic school didn’t convince me of anything except priests like to touch children). After that semester course, I studied Psychology at The Jungian Institute to learn everything I could about loss, complicated grief, and sudden death. I also found a therapist with credentials up her wall hailing Saturn (Clinical Psychology at NYU) and Uranus ( Jungian Studies/The New School) to make sure I wasn’t going batshit. So I got to know Saturn well. I went to graduate school a lot too. School made me happy. Degrees (Saturn) and I were the best of buds. The “A” became my father. I saw Saturn everywhere; he was following me around when I wasn’t walking, my ball and chain, which spoke to me in dreams. In one dream he said, ‘There is no death, relax.” I was 27 and being tested and tested. I had to get metaphysical on the subject of death because all conventional, tried and true lovely methods of inquiry were far from inspiring.
The Saturn Return
One has to capitalize the words “Saturn Return” because Saturn is a serious chapter in one’s life. Saturn rules time and the end of it. Saturn rules death, mastery, and completion. I have Saturn in Taurus in the 10th house in the whole sign house system. It’s in my 11th house in Koch. I’m an Astrologer. I’m also a dance teacher. I do a lot of improv every single day. But back to Saturn. I build (Taurus) with the body for work (Saturn) making shapes out of ideas in space and time. I play with both. I’m great with space in my own time (a dancer’s gift). Saturn in one’s chart asks how we can strengthen the things we are good at to make good choices. Tragedy taught me how to move in a new way. Dance kept me balanced and focused.
Cutting through All Bullshit
SATURN WORDS
REALITY
BOUNDARIES
CONTAINER
WORK
TIME
DUTY
STRUCTURE
ANALYSIS
PRACTICAL
LIMITATIONS
MASTERY
ORGANIZATION
SERIOUS
MATURITY
RULES