I think I have found my spiritual father. His name is Fritz Riemann and I’ve been reading his work in the past week, at my analyst’s recommendation. I began first with his book which in English has been rather poorly translated as “Anxiety: Using Depth Psychology to Find a Balance in Your Life” (in its original: “Grundformen der Angst“), and then I realised that he was also the author of another book I had on my list, the beautifully titled “Astrology and Psychotherapy” (or “Lebenshilfe Astrologie“) a book which I see as the manual to my future profession.
I’m just two weeks away from turning 39 years old, an age which is usually marked by something called the mid-life crisis. This is described as a pivotal period in a person’s life (usually spanning from the 37th year of life until the 41st) in which the foundations in a person’s life are revised and new decisions for the future have to be made. It’s like a pitstop in the middle of a person’s life in which past actions are coming up for scrutiny in order to find the answer to the burning question “How do I move forward in life?”.
It’s called a “crisis” because something breaks down (usually a career path or a significant relationship, a way of life) and this catapults the individual into a pressure chamber of a mindspace, in which solutions need to be found with urgency.
Carl Jung wrote about this period in a positive light. He saw this breakdown as a special indication that a person was getting closer to living out the truth of their identity or in his terms, the crisis was an opportunity to finally ‘individuate’. What made the crisis so intense was the extent to which someone had lied to themselves so far in their lives, and build a life on shaky and borrowed values, rather than on their personal intuition or on what mattered most to their individuality. In his words:
The nearer we approach to the middle of life, and the better we have succeeded in entrenching ourselves in our personal attitudes and social positions, the more it appears as if we had discovered the right course and the right ideals and principles of behaviour. For this reason, we suppose them to be eternally valid, and make a virtue of unchangeably clinging to them. We overlook the essential fact that the social goal is attained only at the cost of a diminution of personality. Many—far too many aspects of life which should also have been experienced lie in the lumber-room among dusty memories; but sometimes, too, they are glowing coals under grey ashes. – C. Jung, The Collected Works, p. 395
Astrologers also wrote about this period as being one marked by the multiple aspects that transiting Saturn would be making to the natal Saturn and Uranus placements in an individual’s chart, precipitating painful and unexpected changes that have long-lasting consequences. The most notable of which is Erin Sullivan in her book “The Astrology of Midlife and Aging”. Sullivan describes the mid-life crisis as:
“Between the ages of thirty-seven and forty-one, in synchrony with the transit of the planet Uranus’ opposition to its place in the horoscope, something mysterious takes place within the psyche. Further, Dante says: “I cannot clearly say how I had entered the wood; I was so full of sleep just at the point where I abandoned the true path” (II 10-13) The ‘sleep’ with which we are full at the meeting at the crossroads is really the unconscious life that we have within and that is still unlived. Jung said that in this phase of life one is living the “unlived life”, assuming correctly that midlife does not begin a time of rapid decay, loss of libido, and inevitable death but rather in a time in which one might recollect one’s life and, from that recollection, build upon a profound understanding and conscious action toward the next phase of adulthood.” Sullivan, The Astrology of Midlife and Aging, p. 4
Similarly to what Jung and Sullivan have described in their books, I also find myself needing to change my profession at this turning point in my life, as I am no longer able to make a living out of just being an astrologer and tarot reader. I am lucky that I am able to have the interior and exterior resources to be able to undergo this transition with a relative amount of meaning. After I was hit with the transit of Saturn conjunct my natal Mercury and Sun in the last 3 years, I witnessed the gradual loss of a lot of the things and people which used to anchor me in place. I’ve also felt blocked in my development, both creatively and emotionally and frustrated with life.
This produced a crisis of meaning inside of myself and aware that Saturn rules over time and old age, I sought the wisdom of those older than me. In a random way – and possibly influenced by this year’s transit of nostalgic Jupiter in Cancer – I was reminded of an old dream of mine, that of completing my psychotherapeutic training. So after my father’s death I signed up for a professional training to become a Jungian analyst. And I’m happy to say that as lost as I was a couple of years ago, I am now meaningfully placed exactly where I need to be, since my current training offers me a sense of purpose and meaning, which I was robbed off in the past.
However, there are still plenty of difficulties to overcome, most of which have to do with the reshaping of my very soul. I am overwhelmed at the moment by moods, fears and bouts of low energy, which I am processing each week with the help of my supervising analyst, by doing dream analysis and art therapy. This is where depth psychology and the work of many Jungian analysts come in handy, as I don’t believe I would’ve been able to start the process of “mining” through my memories and rearranging my inside, without their help.
So here I am, in my second semester of professional training reading the works of Fritz Riemann and Marion Woodman, my substitute spiritual mother and father. While the German author is helping me stitch together my previous experience as an astrologer and put it in relation to my current experience of being a trainee psychotherapist, Marion Woodman is my wise maternal guide, helping me understand the deeper layers of my psyche and especially my relation to my own Shadow, and what lies beneath it: the Animus and the Death Mother Archetype, two figures who have been haunting me for a while.
After, watching the documentary “The Way of the Dream” and having read her interview with Daniella Sieff titled “Confronting the Death Mother: An Interview with Marion Woodman“, I was curious to find out more about Marion, much like I wanted to discover more about Fritz and his attraction to astrology. I kind of feel like they are kindred spirits to me, or at least ancient members of my soul family. So naturally I pulled up their birth-charts.
Fritz was born a Sun in Virgo (loosely conjunct Venus), with a Moon in Aquarius (loosely conjunct Jupiter). He has a natal Saturn in Capricorn conjunct Chiron (the Wounded Healer Archetype) and a Uranus in Sagittarius conjunct Lilith (the Wild Feminine Archetype). Remarkably he is a member of the Pluto in Gemini generation and he has a natal Neptune in fellow water sign, Cancer. His Mars is in proud Leo and his Mercury is conjunct his North Node, both in the sign of Libra.
His comfort zone, is marked by Aries, as his South Node is in Aries. Unfortunately, I have no idea in which astrological houses these planets are falling because I am lacking information on his birth time, and hence there is no Ascendant. But he seemed like a charismatic and optimistic fellow (which is rare for Virgo men to be honest). So I am wondering if perhaps his Ascendant was in Leo, which would’ve placed his Mars conjunct it too?
In terms of comparing our charts and finding out why I feel he is one of my kindred spirits, I can see that he has his nodal placement opposite to mine as I was born with a SN in Libra/NN in Aries, and that his Moon and Jupiter fall around my Venus in Aquarius (so I fall in love with the ideas that he cared about, and with Aquarius energy these ideas are indeed audacious and astrological).
Moreover, his Uranus in Sagittarius is conjunct my natal Saturn in the same sign (which makes him the perfect, wacky mentor for me) and his Pluto in Gemini sits in a tight conjunction to my natal Chiron in Gemini in the 8th house, while his Mars in Leo sits on top of my Midheaven. I interpret these two final aspects as being motivating and healing to me, even from beyond his grave. No wonder, I see his work as that of my spiritual father figure.
Moving on to Marion, she was born with a Sun in Leo conjunct the Moon and Mercury (so she is a New Moon baby, an aspect that denotes a pioneering spirit and a true individualist). She has her natal Venus conjunct Neptune in Virgo, an aspect which made her perfect for analytical work but it may have gradually eaten down her relationships due to a perfectionist streak. Furthermore, her natal Mars is conjunct the North Node in Gemini and her South Node is in Sagittarius (and sadly) conjunct her Saturn, which denotes a rough upbringing no matter how positive the Jupiterian influence may be.
In addition, I see a bold Uranus in Aries, Pluto in maternal Cancer and Jupiter in enterprising Taurus conjunct Chiron (the Wounded Healer Archetype). You can easily see that she has not had an easy life and that growth for her came during painful moments when she was wounded but she had to heal others (Jupiter conjunct Chiron). At the same time, she was able to increase her awareness of the pains of the human condition and bring truth in areas of life previously thought of as taboo, such as in her description of the Inner Tyrant. Her book “The Ravaged Bridegroom: Masculinity in Women” is a pearl in terms of helping me understand the painful underbelly of romantic attractions and why they usually fail and end up in heart-break.
Being born with Saturn conjunct your comfort zone means that any comfort in early life is usually robbed off you as a form of karmic debt, and Marion has been vocal in her book “Leaving my father’s house: A Journey to conscious femininity” about the strained relationship she has had with her father who blocked her chances of being herself (Saturn in Sagittarius). But she was an exceptionally intelligent and wise woman, almost to the point of having an intelligence which stood against her in many ways, and may have self-sabotaged her chances of being happy in life.
In terms of placing her chart in conversation with my own natal chart, the fist thing I noticed is how we share the same Saturn placement and how her South Node is almost perfectly conjunct my Moon in Sagittarius, denoting a deep and unconsciously fertile link between the wisdom she provides and my compulsive search for wisdom. In addition, her Uranus in Aries is conjunct my natal North Node and Jupiter in Aries, making her a truly wise, maternal guide for me to learn a lot from, especially in relation to my own masculinity and wounded Animus (Aries).
Moreover, her Pluto in Cancer falls in my 9th house, where I have Lilith in Cancer (the Wild Feminine Archetype), an aspect which I fondly refer to as the Erin Brockovich effect in terms of using feminine power to combat the abuses of the patriarchy. Marion’s writings liberate me and give me the feeling that I can live life completely free of taboos and complexes as a powerful woman, surviving a changing world (much like Marion had lived her life).
It’s strange how I just begun with an intuition that I should read the works of both Fritz and Marion, and then as I dived into their work and found how strongly it resonated with me, I fell under the suspicion that it may be more to our shared energies than meets the eye. Astrology then showed me in concrete ways, of what I initially just spun out of the thin air of a gut feeling, that I was correct. So I rest my case once more.
Astrology is truly magical, and following your intuition and insights is almost like putting the whole energy of your natal chart in motion towards fated events. This is why it is so important to allow the inner compass to guide you in life, rather than fall for external opinions or follow the indications of others. Trust your gut, trust you path and walk in the direction of your soul tribe. Pursue interests and learn from those who came before you. I would even go so far as to say that this may be the pragmatic application of Jung’s core theme of individuation.
May your journey be filled with suprising joy and boundless wisdom!
“ The individual is driven by his personal crises into deep waters which he would usually never have entered if left to his own free will. The old idealised image of the Ego has to go, and its place is shaken by a perilous insight into the ambiguity and many-sidedness of one’s own nature.” – p.79, E. Neumann, Depth Psychology
When Pluto, the planet of Rebirth and Intensity, reaches the Nadir (also known as the Imum Coeli or the root portion of a birth-chart) it begins a soulful and emotional transformation that has the potential to change the relationship of an individual to their environment. Individuals experiencing this transit are becoming increasingly aware that surrounding reality seems to be shaped by what they feel and how much they feel it.
The Imum Coeli, translated from Latin, literally means ‘the bottom of the sky’. You may encounter some astrologers refer to the IC as the Nadir, another obscure term defined by the Oxford Dictionary as: a) (in astronomy) the point on the celestial sphere directly below an observer; b) the lowest or most unsuccessful point in a situation. In a 2014 article on the reputable website astro.com, Polly Wallace describes the IC as poetry in motion and in the following way: “Definitions of Imum Coeli include the lowest heaven and a literal translation as the undersky. Such evocative phrases conjure up a sense of the IC as a territory in its own right (…) As the undersky, the IC is always hidden. It stands like the portal into a mysterious zone. The realm of the lowest heaven is vast; it encompasses all our past(s), all the detail of our origins and our roots – and all our secrets. It is another world, an inner world, experienced on a level as profound as the deepest darkness of night-time and of winter. Like the earth below our feet, this realm is the fecund darkness where seeds germinate, where roots develop intricate and enduring networks.”
I guess you can imagine what darkness is unleashed in the life of an individual when the farthest and most intensely contested planet of our solar system meets with the most mysterious and hidden point of the chart. But this darkness is unseen to others, it is private and known only to the person affected. Contrary to other places in the natal chart, the 4th house describes interiors of many different kinds, and what could be more interior to a person than their psychology, their memory and their soul. I am personally becoming more reclusive since this transit has begun. I feel the need to sleep during the day and stay active at night. The soul is awake at night and I feel its power so strongly at the moment. I am so driven to read, write, watch movies and draw – I do these things to understand my drivers and patterns, so I can remake them. I do these things because I love them and they make sense to me. Reality and daily living seems harsh and belligerent, devoid of meaning and I push myself to be in my own ‘bubble’ by wearing noise cancelling headphones. But more on my personal experience with this transit in the middle portion of this article. Let’s get back to the traits of Pluto’s movement conjunct the IC and inevitably on the cusp of the 4th astrological house.
Unlike Venus, Pluto has no delicate finesse. It acts like a sledgehammer, especially in the debut of a transit, the first months up to a year when it switches signs. The theme of its transit is brought up suddenly – like a punch in the stomach – all of the emotions that have been repressed, overwhelming the psyche of the affected person with memories, patterns, unresolved wounds and chaotic emotions are suddenly out on the table. It takes the next decade to work through them, and as the work is performed a deep, personal transformation occurs. Then at the middle point of a Pluto transit, the rebuilding begins and slowly what was once dark and hopeless turns into light and passionate love. Throughout the entire duration of that Pluto transit, the individual will have to do the deep psychological work of organizing their messy psychic content, discarding what is now dead and useless and continuing to nourish what remains vital and alive inside of them.
If one can deal with these emotions and work at understanding them, then their immediate reality will begin to mirror their hard-working inner world and a state of attuned harmony is reached after some time. However, if one allows themselves to be drawn into a whirlwind of emotions without comprehending them, if one begins to live more intensely in the past than in the present, becoming complacent in the struggle with the forces of the unconscious, then there is potential here for one’s worst nightmares to materialise and for a mental health condition to completely take over one’s life.
Either way emotional transformation and confrontations with core, wounded aspects of our largely unconscious Self are necessary for personal growth. Most importantly, the main theme of any transit to the IC is reflecting upon or establishing a sense of personal safetyin the world again.
The sign or constellation that Pluto travels through will also determine the way in which emotions and past memories are unleashed and how the individual will work at integrating them. As this transit happens it will also end up affecting the home, the immediate and private environment of an individual. For most people and in most charts, the IC lies in the 4th house, the house ruled by the Moon and the astrological sign of the celestial Crab, which symbolizes the protective shelter in which we regroup our forces.
What Others are Saying About this Transit
To prepare for this article, I read extensively whatever I could find on the topic. First of all, I turned to Steven Forrest’s seminal text “The Book of Pluto” and found this beautiful and psychological interpretation of the meaning of the 4th house:
“the fourth house is the “House of the Home”. In most modern astrological texts, it is interpreted in more psychological terms, as the house of the inner self, the feelings, one’s deepest archetypal roots (…) Every human who has ever lived possesses a fourth house. Translated, we all to some degree have a need for ‘family’ – a word we must use broadly to mean a set of unquestionably secure social relationships. Loyalty and lifetime commitment are the critical notions here, not blood kinship. Depth, often unspoken depth, may possibly develop in these bonds, but it is less central. Roots, a safe haven, a place to let one’s hair down – these are the crucial concepts (…) To form clan and hearth with other human beings is the ultimate act of trust. Due to your wound, you may turn away from it, taking refuge in your own self-sufficiency (…) “If I really opened up, they’d be too shocked to handle it” – that’s often the belief at the roots of this particular navigational error. Even more fundamentally “There’s something horrible and dirty inside of me” (…) Your navigational error, if you succumb to it, would be to live the life of a ghost, with your fire, intensity, and vision removed from your biographical life while you went through the motions of existence. And, regardless of outward appearances, at the psychological level you would live the life of a heartless, homeless person.
– p. 79-83
Some people describe this Pluto-IC transit as the midnight of the Soul. As Lynn Hayes writes: “It shows the psychological legacy from our parents and ancestors that submerges in the unconscious until activated, usually by transit of a planet to that point. This is the point at which we enter the underworld of our own internal psyche, turning inward to meet the essence of who we are in this lifetime.”The Raw Astrologer describes this transit in such a perfect way as Pluto invading your personal space and beginning to chaotically and disturbingly recreate your family life, your home and your sense of security.
This placement can have a beautiful side-effect and that is coming in touch with the Plutonian imagination which can be vast, intense and mystery-increasing. As Anne Whitaker describes in her account of being born with such a placement, that in her childhood: “My ‘real’ life – eating, sleeping, going to school – was incidental to my inner life which was full of what I felt were the really interesting questions: why are we alive, where do we go after death, do we live on several planes of existence at once, what is happening in other galaxies”. In addition, June from Saturn & Honey writes that this type of Pluto transit is a family curse-breaker: “4th house Pluto means staring the truth of one’s early life or longer-term family history in the eye and choosing not to continue the pattern, committing to change. Let the ways of the past end with you.”
Over at Little Golden Age blog, and in a short post which contains a good amount of personal experiences with this transit, actuallyjessica writes on surviving Pluto: “I quite literally hope that I survive. I realize that many people don’t ever experience this kind of astrology, so I’m trying to extract the lessons, tear down the old bullshit, transform my powerlessness into wisdom and turn my lump of coal into a shiny diamond. If you, like me, are deep in this Pluto business, I hope you find your way through the darkness to bright new days.”
Pluto conjunct the IC (the bottom of the sky) means that Pluto is also in opposition to the Midheaven, as Peter Holm from Holm Astrology writes: “when the home and family are being affected in our lives and security wavers, it may be due to demands from the MC, which deals with one’s status, occupation and ambitions (…) The IC and MC, particularly in early life, depict incidents linked to the parents which in turn will affect the child. This parental influence on a child, shifts as we mature. The influence widens in such a way that we are no longer just influenced by the parents that dictate our lives, but we are also now affected by an extended version of the family and our place in the overall structures of life.”
Finally, for a really comprehensive description of this astrological placement and transit, Astrology by Jo offers a description of the IC as being the one to set the feeling tone of our upbringing and the soul’s inheritance. These deep parts are what are illuminated and transformed by Pluto. One can find their root power under a Pluto conjunct the IC transit, but before the moment of intense breakthrogh comes the pressure-cooker build-up. Let me exemplify with a brief account of the last two years of my life (2024-2025), as Pluto gravitated between 29th degree of Capricorn and the 1st degree of Aquarius and encircled my IC.
My Personal Experience
Initially I felt invaded by this energy, and it felt like against my will the structures in my life which I had worked so hard to build, started moving and shifting in dangerous ways. I went from suffering constant auditory pain in my household, to waking up with the bleakest moods I’ve had in my life, to visiting my dad decaying on a hospital bed, to having shouting matches with my mother, and being threatened with violence by neighbours. The upsides of this energy, have been reshaping my career to do a training in Jungian analysis, expanding my social family by adopting two more cats from the street, and realising the meaning that alcohol had in my family’s life and bypassing ‘a need to drink’ by sublimating it into drawing and painting again.
In the final months of Pluto in Capricorn at 29 degrees, I began to obsess over anything related to the home, to protection and to securing the boundaries of my daily living experience. Just shy off my 36th birthday, I bought an apartment in March of 2023 with my lifetime’s savings. What had initially felt like a wish come true, soon turned into a nightmare. I came to realize that while my place was cozy and practical, it was surrounded by problematic individuals and part of an environment which I had considerably underestimated under the spell of my first-time buyer’s excitement. I am not a financially wealthy being, and actually the wound of poverty is the strongest marker in my personal chart (see that Saturn in the 2nd house placement).
To me, owning a home, even if it was a small flat, was a very important aspect of breaking through ancestral patterns of women being denied the right to property or having money to buy their homes, and thus finding self-empowerment and safety. Dazed as I was by finally finding a place that I was able to afford in crowded and expensive Bucharest, I had not realized I was trying to sleep in a hornets’ nest. And there can be no true safety in such an environment.
Across the road from my apartment a highway was being finalised and when I moved into the place in March, I had no idea that roadworks would last until the end of November of that year. I lived for months with loud drilling noises, made worse by the fact that the building next to mine also was being enveloped simultaneously as the highway – something damaging happened to my nervous system during that period, the repercussions of which I still have to live with. Over the summer of that year, the neighbourhood turned into hot mulch, and the air was toxic due to the dust in the air.
Even with the windows closed, the surrounding noises were unquenchable, especially since I was hit with another issue: my next-door neighbour was prostituting herself to the workers in the neighbourhood and would place loud music on her subwoofer, every time they came to see her to drown out her moans. To make matters worse, often these men would knock on my door, as the doors to the flats were so close to each other.
As summer burned outside, the inside of the building was littered with garbage and we lacked an Intercom, so strangers were freely entering the building to get drunk or high on the staircases. One night I got woken up by the sound of a man snoring loudly as he had fallen drunkenly asleep near my door. And to top it all off, one of my neighbours from two doors down across from mine had frequent psychotic breakdowns in which he would dress as a woman and threaten to jump out the garbage chute or paint the hallways with crayon and other bodily fluids.
Whenever I would leave my home I was equipped with a pocket knife, pepper spray and ready to record any interaction coming my way. I felt like walking through metaphorical ‘trenches’ and distracted my attention by making my indoors look cozy and warm and by taking care of the neighbourhood’s stray cats. By taking care of the vulnerable I was also and indirectly sending out a cry for help: ‘Would someone take care of my vulnerable Self?‘ It took me a while to understand that this elusive someone had to also be me.
All these interferences and frights made me crave safety in life like never before, but as the planet Saturn resides in my 2nd house, I am deprived of experiencing it in this lifetime, unless I put in hard work to obtain it. Interestingly, just when I thought I had figured out the deeper meaning of the 4th house in astrology, I began reading Wanda Sellar’s book ‘Introduction to Decumbiture‘ and was struck by how often she associated the 4th house with ‘the grave‘. This terrified me at the time, as I imagined my own sudden death, but in turns out that this death took someone else in my family, the parent I was attached to the most, my father. Most of us will have this Pluto to the IC transit happening somewhere in our charts and part of the reason I am writing this article is to help prepare some of you for what may come and how to read the energies that could emerge in your life, disturbing your peace, home life and emotional foundations.
I eventually (and reluctantly) ended up selling my flat in February 2025. Even writing this sentence is sending me into a slight panic attack, which tells how I continue to be emotionally attached to this idea of a place as a container of my sense of safety. When in reality, these disruptive events that are causing me to move home so frequently are trying to help me cement the understanding that I am actually the home I am looking for, the home I idealise and crave to own or to build. It is inside of myself that this feeling of safety, of belonging in the world, that needs time and nurture to root and sprout, to grow and expand until I end up feeling safe as a state of being. The root of this feeling begins in my past and is reconstituted in the present through my body and my relationships to others, it is with these two aspects that I need to make peace, by relinquishing a sense of guilt, shame and fear and learning to trust more, to be gentler and to flow.
After I sold the flat, I moved into a rather old-looking apartment, a place in desperate need of new furtnitue and renovation, with big windows and vast amounts of light. I was drawn to that exposing light and didn’t mind the old furniture because to be honest I was so destroyed at the thought of having sold my home that I’ve felt deep down inside that I somehow don’t deserve better. I wrongly believed I had failed at making a home. I sold what was so dear to me. I had given up. I accepted this weird rental with two-beds and linoleum flooring and a kitchen that was tiled in the same style like a sanatorium because I felt sick, frail and somehow self-punishing.
The strangest thing is that the week that I moved into this intermediate home, this purgatory flat, my father died. Two months later a neighbour died. 4 months later, I realised my landlady was suffering from undiagnosed mental health issues that pushed her to cross my boundaries regularly & months later I moved out in a panicked state, right before Christmas after having an argument with her because she had begun following me. The same week I moved out, I also had sex for the first time after 4 years.
When the Scorpio man with beautiful blue eyes, whom I had the spend the night with, asked me “Why did you wait so long?” I answered “Because I was waiting to have sex with someone I loved. But in the meantime, I guess I got pragmatic”. On some level it’s not healthy to put off sex for so long as an adult, and a part of me felt that if I had sex maybe my neurotic symptoms will cool off. And they did, temporarily at least.
Thanatos and Eros, the death drive and the sex drive felt like two large psychological pillars that had marked my existence in the weird limbo-flat in which I stayed for most of 2025. When I moved in, I witnessed the death of my father. When I moved out, I had a night of passionate sex with a stranger. I had ultimately chosen life, and pleasure and sex, which prompted me into a rebirth of some kind. I guess the duality had to be activated inside of me in order to believe again that I am worth more and that I deserve better. I am now renting a one-bedroom apartment which no one knowns the address of and I can’t believe how much I am enjoying this little detail. It’s a place with a dark red wall, just one bed, a place that feels somehow more solid, exceedingly warm and protected, although it is also on the pricier side. I sleep all day and stay awake at night to work in perfect silence. I feel balanced, because somehow, I had managed to jump into a new reality, and had left some of the pain behind. I go to therapy sessions on a weekly basis, analyse my emotions and dreams in a diary and create as often I have energy. Although, I am not sure yet what I am now becoming, I feel somewhat released of the birthing pains and pushed on the path of learning to walk again.
The Energy of this Transit as Shown in Films
Because of my recent experiences, I resonated so strongly with a couple of movies which portrayed the psychological transformations of 4 women. Each at a different level of their becoming, the protagonists’ struggle in their homes, mirrored some of my own intense emotions. I also found it remarkably healing to look at stories driven by women, which placed the themes of motherhood, desire, safety, loss and betrayal at the core of their cathartic decisions. And maybe this could serve as some interesting recommendations to understand the deeper meaning of a Pluto in the 4th house transit or natal placement.
In the following section, I will share my perspective on what the place of the home represented on an emotional and psychological level to the main characters in each of the movies I list below. Interpreting the symbolic meaning of a home is a good exercise in preparing for what is to come. However, understanding something may not inevitably protect you from it, but it will certainly help you feel like you are at least more aware of the wise implications of this energy, so that when it happens you are able to handle it and even – dare I say – enjoy it?
Similarly, when someone is aware that they are going through for example, a Saturn return then it is easier to handle it on a mental level, as you understand that tests, limits and hardship are inevitable. I find it fascinating how the movies I am drawn towards, as this transit is unfolding, are centered around the theme of rebirth within the space of the home. These movies show me that when other women go through intense emotional experiences (whether blissful or terrifying) their homes change with them, and in some cases are even exorcised by them. It’s also interesting to note that almost all of the movies I have chosen to discuss have female protagonists and in all of them something either creepy or erotic tends to take place (these being core Plutonic themes). In my description of the following movies, I’ll figure-skate around any spoilers in case you haven’t seen these movies, so you may safely continue reading.
Created in the final stages of the Pluto in Scorpio era, this movie features the magnetic Sharon Stone in such a vulnerable role that at the same time brings an electrifying edge, which only she can perform on screen. Her story begins with moving into a new condo in a weirdly shaped, futuristic building, reminiscent of the intimidating structure in High Rise. She has her reserves about this place (which she should’ve listened to) but is eventually convinced by the estate agent to give it a try. Little does she know that this will be a life-altering decision because not only will she become the fresh target of the building’s covert murderer, but also meet the man of her dreams. Again, the themes of death and sex, Eros and Thanatos are brought to life in this decision to move home.
The movie finds its thrilling bits in the way it keeps you guessing whether her lover is potentially the killer or not, but what really makes the movie fascinating to watch is the state of being under constant surveillance and seeing how this pressure cooker builds to a quick life-affirming denouement. I have to say that the soundtrack kind of sucks though, taking away from the eerie atmosphere of the movie, but her chemistry with William Baldwin is sizzling. As a sidenote, both of them are Pisces Sun actors, and I think I could write a whole different article on William Baldwin’s penchant for starring in erotic thrillers with awesome Piscean co-stars (see Fair Game for another example).
It’s clear by now that I’m a big Rebecca Hall fan, but this movie was surprisingly scary and also deeply emotional at the same time. I kind of sweated and cried with her, since the movie centres on a theme which unfortunately was something, I experienced as well in my life: romantic betrayal, then abandonment and the desperate search to understand the truth about the man you once loved. The really scary character in this movie, is this truth, which once brought to life, shatters the foundations of her sense of psychological security.
This rather flawed movie is at the same supremely atmospheric and carried for most of it by the ultra-talented Jennifer Connelly, who lights up the screen with her soulful performance. It’s also a supremely damp, soggy and wet film in which the environment is literally suffocated by leaks and spill overs, denoting the repressed emotions of the main protagonist, a single mother who in the wake of a divorce has to start life all over again together with her small daughter. She rents an apartment in a building in desperate need of refurbishment on Roosevelt Island in New York, finds a job and enrols her daughter in a new school. All seems to be rebuilding well, until her bedroom ceiling gets a strange leak that keeps becoming larger and larger with each passing day, and then her daughter befriends a girl who no longer exists. With its emphasis on loss, repressed emotions, ghosts, water, broken bonds, porous walls and the desperate seeking of safety in the figure of a mother, this movie holds such deep and obvious fourth house themes that it should be used as compulsory viewing material in astrology schools.
A once stable child psychologist with a family of her own, becomes agoraphobic and obsessed with the aparent murder of her neighbour from across the street – I guess you see how these two things clash, and from the tension of not being physically able to leave her flat the excitement of the film develops as well as the horror. On the surface level this is the plot of a movie that holds no punches in delivering the most gruesome fighting scene I have ever witnessed between a teenager and an adult on a rainy rooftop. but I won’t say more so as not to spoil the plot for you all. You’ll notice early on that the movie draws heavy inspiration from two classic claustrophobic stories that also happen to take place in mythical apartments: Rear Window and Dark Passage, and coincidentially two of my all time favourite films.
The place of living may not be a home for all, but it matters to us all as a vessel of psychological containment for our fears and worries, or what Jung called the ‘unum vas’, the alchemical vessel which holds matter and distils the soul, as we transform and individuate. The home as a shell, your personal safety coating against the harsh world and the perils of nature, or the home as a container of our psychological changes, the walls recording daily dramas, witnessing the unravelling of our private selves. In the home you are who you are, you rarely bring your Persona in and your Ego doesn’t seek the approval it normally seeks from other people’s public validation. So being ‘at home’ can allow the Self to emerge.
I always thought that if people were to know my homebody, ‘pyjama Self’ they would probably find it very different than my academic Self. Last year, in 2025, I dared to show others, with the help of my work on the Internet, this fragile, pyjama Self. I didn’t get much validation and approval, but neither did I get offense and rejection. I felt left to inhabit a limbo area of my Self, much like the apartment I was inhabiting. But I did move in a whispered way from exposing this vulnerable Self, to taking it within and protecting it. This is why I feel safest now, in a state of being ‘draped up’, of not existing during the day, but rather meeting and making friends with my nocturnal Self, my night being. My spirit animal is the sensitive and misunderstood bat and I am comfortable with that image, because usually right before a drastic rebirth you are meant to walk inside the darkest of nights for a while.
Nocturnal little animals You keep your mother up You watch the town shut down You watch the lights go off Shutters closing in the bars
Homes can permit or block the development of us as beings, for example, if you look back at your childhood home (or lack thereof). Homes can also be places to hide what we don’t want others to see, or places within which we hide in order to control the environment around us, to spy on the world that hurt us so much that we can no longer participate in life, like the Woman in the Window portrays so well.
Homes can be places within which desire plays out like in Sliver, birth may happen, diseases and death can occur, away from the prying eyes of strangers. We allow ourselves to be vunerable, soft, pliable in the home. Moreover, houses can be vessels to our memories, and haunted homes especially so, in that they can become a projection screen for parts of our unconscious mind that we have yet to come in contact with: those infamous skeletons in the closet, those darkened basements that house the unspeakable, those creaky floors, bedroom windows that won’t shut properly and those singing pipes, that threaten to burst when our emotions get the best of us but we bottle them up anyway, like its shown in The Night House and Dark Water.
What is left ‘un-homed’ is equally important to what the home represents. The space that is left when we outgrow a place and silently move on in life, leaves an energetic imprint. We leave traces of ourselves everywhere we have been and homes are the containers of these past, previous, ghostly selves, that we can no longer fit into. It’s a different way to interpret the sense of ‘horror vacui’ , which appears so frequently around abandoned homes and derelict places. This is why revisiting a location can feel so distabilising or why entering in a new place can also overwhelm us, because we come into contact with what has lived here in the absence, much like Steven Soderbergh shows in his haunting film “Presence”(2024).
And absoring that absence, welcoming the past self into the present, private reality we dispose of, can help us to create that elusive and transient sense of being ‘at home’, like it is so tenderly portrayed in a movie that managed to leave me in cathartic tears, as it deals with healing a father-daughter relationship through art, the poignant Sentimental Value (2025). Please go watch it, it will leave you loving.
In conclusion, I guess it helps to welcome the past, no matter how painful it has been, and to resist running away from it, as it will show you the way forward in life when you are going through a period of being ‘stuck’.
Ultimately, I understood that to feel safe in the world, no matter the location or place, is to feel safe embracing that haunted basement, those secret skeletons in the closet and that scary attic that have always been part of me. Like the goddess Hekate, I have to find a way to carry a torch even in the darkest parts of my Underworld, those places I didn’t dare visit while I was young because I was unprepared to take on the burdens of Eros and Thanatos, but that now as an adult are asking me to integrate them with courage and honesty into all aspects of the experience of being alive.
The spiritual goal toward which the whole nature of man strives is to rescue the light of consciousness…it is the sea to which all rivers went their way.
June for me is a month of recovery. A recovery that is necessary in the wake of May’s energy. This is because last month’s energy was something beyond what I had experienced in a long time, and this confession doesn’t come lightly since I was born a Plutonic and I am used to unexpected and strong doses of life’s intensity. Due to my karmic Pluto in Scorpio Rx in the 1st house placement, life had demonstrated to me several times that this is going to be an incarnation of extremes, of symbolic deaths and rebirths, and having to understand some of the deepest emotions. However, sometimes a certain period comes along which simply turns up the Plutonic heat up a notch. Like a square aspect of transiting Pluto in Aquarius to my natal Pluto in Scorpio, during Taurus season, for example…
For perspective, transiting Pluto in Aquarius is at the moment of my writing this article at 3’19 degrees in my 4th house; my IC (imum coeli or the bottom of the sky), the root of my chart is placed at 1’37 Aquarius. As a factual recap, the month of May of 2025 debuted with selling my small one-room flat and my moving into a 2-bedroom rented apartment in a safer part of Bucharest. A decision I didn’t easily make as I had to let go of the financial security of owning my place, but I gained the physical safety of knowing that at least, in this rental I will no longer be threatened with violent abuse by my neighbours, like I had been in my previous location.
Escaping into a safer neighbourhood was something coming for two years now and as difficult as it had been to decide on this move, I pushed myself into making it because of self-preservation. The heavy-heartedness, however, came along with me. Just as I was getting accustomed to this new place and thinking it was better that I was somehow closer to my parent’s place and could visit them more often, on the 8th of May my father died.
“…this process will serve as an excellent time to examine the impact of the individual’s early environmental situation as reflected through the parents, and for those who are parents, how they themselves have emotionally responded to their own children, family and spouse (…) It will now be necessary to change or eliminate all forms of emotional dependency and security that are linked to external situations. These dependencies and securities are in some way limiting further growth (…) This evolutionary time frame and experience can be very difficult because many people will feel as if the very foundations of their lives are being threatened and removed. Such an experience must occur so that the individual is more or less left with only his or her self to look at, to examine, and to depend on (…) For some people this process will be enforced through the loss of a job or career, a family member or someone close to them, emotional confrontations of an intense magnitude with family members or even the loss of the individual’s own life.” (p. 322-323).
Dad was cremated on the 10th of May and I found myself walking back from the Crematorium into a straight line back into the new flat I had just shortly inhabited. I crawled into bed like a slug and rested there for the next hours, feeling numbed out of my mind. I couldn’t cry. My body held on to the pain. It was familiar. It was a family thing to hold onto pain. I was simply being loyal.
What weighed heavily on my heart was the fact that on the morning of my father’s death, I visited grandpa’s grave – situated near my new place – and I placed a coin on top of it. I offered flowers and asked grandpa (my father’s father) to help my family out. Hours later, around midnight my mother called to tell me that dad had given up the ghost. I immediately thought of grandpa letting me know that he listened to my prayer…although I’m not sure, that was the resolution I had asked for, but I am in no position at this point in my life to have semantic arguments with ghosts. Grandpa helped. And this helping hand from beyond the veil lingers in my heart, as a life mystery left for me to unravel. I am not afraid of ghosts, but I am mortified of living a soulless life. So the problem I had to cope with now was: How do I continue to live on, when all I can feel is just how dead I am on the inside?
Dad’s departure happened right in-between Romania’s presidential elections, a period of two weeks of tumult as the population was faced with a pro-West candidate and a pro-Russian candidate. To say that the air in Bucharest was electric during those days, was an understatement. As the pressures kept pilling up on me, around the 19th of May – and after the results of the elections proved to be hopeful and progressive rather than medieval and destructive, I realised just how completely chewed up my nervous system had been. My body has started uncontrollably shaking after I took my morning shower and my hands were clenching without the possibility of relaxing them quickly. Only with controlled breathing was I able to physically ‘unclench’ and relax my body in roughly 20 minutes (which felt like an eternity).
In the final days of May, I was running from one doctor appointment to another to find some treatment for my nervous system’s temporary collapse and I was lucky enough to find the support I needed in a psychiatrist, neurologist and family doctor. The treatment my psychiatrist put me on helped smooth out my over-sensitivity to sounds and helped me feel more relaxed in my body. I somehow knew this wasn’t enough and that I had to do a bit more to get the pain through my body moving and to release it somehow. I started doing yoga and gentle stretches daily, while eating a consistent breakfast of porridge with honey and fruits and making sure I am drinking enough water each day.
I took at least 10,000 steps, and installed a tracker app on my phone to keep me to it. Each day this tracker would gentle nudge me to ‘get moving’ and then reward me by saying ‘you are getting better’, which felt like the kindest thing I could hear all day and exactly the opposite of how I was feeling. At night I worked, since work keeps me stable and optimistic and then I would watch a movie projected on the blank wall of my bedroom to take my mind off things. I would cry in the most public and inappropriate places, always surrounded by strangers and never near my mother or sister, the last two remaining members of my close family. It’s sad to write this but my relationship to them is not at all close, to say the least. I try, nonetheless.
“Psychological insights, bravely won, must penetrate down into core assumptions about yourself, and then be expressed publicly.” (p.263). He goes on to add that with this transit : “Your navigational error, if you succumb to it, would be to live the life of a ghost, with your fire, intensity and vision removed from your biographical life while you went through the motions of existence. And regardlessof outward appearances, at the psychological level you would live the life of a hearthless, homeless person (…) With Pluto in the fourth house, you heal yourself by becoming conscious of your woundedness…for you it starts with realizing the extent to which your ability to find, recognize and claim ‘your people’ has been distorted.” (p. 83)
Remarkably, the intensity I was doing my best to smooth out or diminish in my waking life, appeared once again projected through the movies that I gravitated towards in that month. One after the other, I saw four movies that were incredibly good but each in their own way, were also intense and haunting.
First of all, I saw ‘Sex, lies and videotape’ after I listened to antiheroines‘ insightful analysis on YouTube, about the disappearance of horny movies and the important role of emotional intimacy in making films feel erotic. I just loved this movie and if I was previously a fan of James Spader’s and Maggie Gyllenhaal’s chemistry in ‘Secretary‘, the unlikely attraction which existed between him and Andi MacDowell in Stephen Soderbergh’s film was much more subtle and sexy somehow.
Seeing as I was in a vulnerable state of chaotic sadness, physical pain and nervous irritation, I couldn’t believe that this movie made me feel something tender-hearted again. As if a whole new mindset was available to me, through psychological sensuality.
Still from the movie ‘Sex, lies and videotapes’
A couple of days later, the film player I used to watch the film above recommended another European movie called ’99 Moons’. This movie was filmed after the pandemic and had actors I had never seen before, so it was right up my alley. Heavily medicated, still broken-hearted but satisfied that I had completed my day’s work, I sat on my little couch to watch this movie which begins with one of the most random, brutal and unexpected sex scenes I had seen so far. I won’t get into details but I’ll just say it involved: a parking lot, a ski mask, something aggressively oral happening and two consenting adults, one of whom breaks down crying after their intense coupling. And it’s not whom you expect.
The curious thing is that ’99 Moons’ is a love story and the characters grow on you with so much ease that you feel shattered when you watch the surprising ending to the movie. I loved it because you get to see a completely different gender dynamic between two heterosexual characters, than you get to see in other erotic-themed movies. And the sex scenes are not at all vanilla or missionary, rather the opposite as most of them are female-led and unique but they always add to the story and the sensual intimacy between two people who simply were burning for each other across the years. This movie made me feel like it was worth bringing back to life, a part of me that once felt excited about sex and sexual pleasure…a part I had buried in April of 2021.
Just some nights into my treatment, and I was now continuously sad but I felt somehow horny as well, like the upper part of the body broke off from my lower region. I had to appreciate however that both systems, although apart, were trying to keep me alive and away from the darker thoughts…those thoughts I had of joining my relatives, of seeing my dad’s dead and peaceful face as flowers were thrown over him, thoughts which sounded a lot like: ‘What’s the fucking point in living anymore? He seems so calm, he no longer feels pain…I wish I could feel that’. The creeping feeling that everything was falling apart around me and I wanted to just stop breathing, so that maybe then the pressure will lift and my body will stop hurting so much in every little corner.
It felt like Freud’s concepts of how Thanatos nourishes Eros, which I first became aware of in college, it was as if they were finally being integrated skin-deep within my physicality. It was Pluto’s energy creating this cellular revolution through the way in which I was interpreting the events that happened in May of 2025 and the stories I was watching and unsuccessfully trying to escape into. The only thing these movies did was to push back upon myself the duty to live in my body and to continue to live on, no matter how painful the experience of living would get.
I remembered this feeling. It was kind of how I felt after watching a couple of years ago ‘Normal people’, just that that experience was devoid of the pain of thinking constantly in the background of my mind: “Dad is gone and I’m never going to be able to speak to him, and I knew that the last time I talked to him in January, after I argued with mom, that it would’ve been our last moment together, because I told him this and he just sadly starred at me…he didn’t say anything.”
A part of me, the child-part felt guilty for abandoning dad, while the rational part of me was aware that it felt like the force of karma worked through me, as I had done to dad what he had done to me when I was small and sick: abandoned me.
Armed with this sad mix of thoughts, I went to the cinema this time to watch an old Romanian movie with a curious title “Glissando”. A movie about a man obsessed with the portrait of a woman. Halfway through the movie, the plot dissolves into two streams, two alternate realities and the characters simply float into random and beautifully-shot sequences of events in their lives. It is a movie about love, memories and obsessions and it was gorgeous to behold and spoke volumes to me about taking it easy and just riding the wave of feelings produced by all the events of the month of May. I couldn’t control what was happening, but I could control my reactions to all these things. In that at least, I had some power left.
Still from the movie ‘Glissando’
I guess that the intensity of May was lived inside of my body between these two extremes of deep sadness – that I was trying my best to run away from – and into erotic creativity – a sensual healing I was hoping to find some sort of solace. It helped that May in Bucharest is incredibly fragrant, as all the roses and jasmine bushes blossom, and the linden trees unleash their aromas while the market boom with cherries and strawberries and honey melons. It gets warmer each night and clothes become looser and thinner and days become longer and slower.
In the background of this, I was tuning in and out of consciousness repressing feelings of sadness, shame and guilt. I slept throughout the day and was awake at night. Nature was so beautiful while my inner world was at war with itself and this contrast struck me. As if by magic, when I noticed the contradiction, the world around me seem to calm me down.
The last film I saw was also probably the most difficult to watch, due to the topic. I saw Denis Villeneuve’s “Incendies” on a random whim. I wasn’t even sure how I got to watch it… All I know is that since I moved into this new flat there have been some mysterious Middle-Eastern influences that I am still trying to shake off, which have been haunting me: from finding out that the previous tenants were Arabs, to randomly stumbling upon an Arabian perfume that I couldn’t stop thinking of, to listening to Habibi Spice on YouTube because his soothing voice helped with my nervous system regulation.
And then Incendies came along and I watched it and my jaw dropped and it helped me release a lot, because I cried my heart out. A week after, as I was walking through one of the largest literature events in Bucharest, Bookfest 2025, I felt drawn to a French-Arab publishing house and then saw the book “Incendies” written by Wajdi Mouawad – full circle moment.
Still from the movie ‘Incendies’
There are some other fascinating things about this new place I moved into, such as finding out from my mother that the shopping complex right in front of my window used to be a communist bread store in which my grandma (my father’s mother) used to work in and that it had a kindergarten attached to it, where I had briefly been to as a child. So without consulting anyone and after months of searching, I had unconsciously placed myself in May of 2025 in front of an energetic zone imprinted with memories from the 80s, when I was a toddler, and dad and grandma were alive and bread was rationed and we lived under a different political regime.
In that moment of realization, I suddenly felt immensely peaceful! I understood that although things aren’t working out as I would like them too, they are working out exactly how the planets are dictating, among which Pluto is the loudest since it has begun the process of changing my soul. I know that if I just stick with the wave of chaotic emotions, memories and symbols, I will eventually get a beautiful and shocking realization as to why things are happening how they are happening. Spirit will deliver meaning and all I need to do is ride the flow of feelings and intuition and pay attention to my environment.
And when the healing realizations begun and I was feeling a combination of illuminating thoughts and the mood-regulating treatment working, peace returned and my curiosity sparked again. During a particular difficult night, as I was wresting in bed trying not to cry again, I stumbled upon this video which although it sounds cheesy to admit, did a magical spell on my capacity to let go of fighting the intensity and simply giving in to it and accepting it:
I don’t know why I wrote this post, except that it felt cathartic to do it. I think it’s meant to be some symbolic and blow-by-blow account of how Pluto in Aquarius is influencing my inner world at the moment, as I’m struggling to make sense and interpret this energy. I’m hoping it may help someone at some point in time, who might find themselves in similar circumstances. As tough as a Pluto transit can be, especially in electrifying Aquarius, it can also offer rest, re-education and renewal. I think this article may also be a list of recommendations, because despite the sad which create the backbone of this article, the films & resources are pretty good and you may want to give them a try. Let me know what you uncover.
I don’t know how else to deal with big things, except by writing about them.
I’m sitting on a chair and talking. And as I talk something shifts in my mind. I understand. There is a logical thread now linking two disparate memories. All of a sudden a flood of warm sensations washes over my body and it feels like my frontal lobe & then my whole brain softens. I just had a breakthrough in my therapist’s office. And my body reacted to it by making me feel warm. It is this warmth I seek now, as guidance that healing is taking place & parts of me, like tectonic plates, instead of being pulled apart by hot, gushing lava, are sutured back together. A female Frankenstein, but on the inside. By making sense of the difficult experiences in my life, I release a pleasing warmth in my body, an emotional nectar that heals wounds which have been buried so deep inside of me, they seem almost invisible. However what is invisible can also be stealthily powerful in affecting our lives in mysterious ways, leading us towards self-undoing and self-harm. The warmth is then a sign that the light of my inner Sun sign is still alive, and that I am real and still alive.
For the past two months, I have been on anti-depressant and anti-anxiety medication while also undergoing therapy. I started going to art classes while also exercising my body to improve my mental mindset. Slowly things were getting better and lighter until tragedy struck in a swift moment. There is a line in Arcade Fire’s song ‘In the backseat’ that is so heartbreakingly beautiful in the way in which it describes family-related loss and grief: My family tree’s / Losing all it’s leaves. This line stayed with me since high-school when I first heard it, but it’s only in March of this year that I got to feel the full impact of these words. March is my birth month. A month in which nature comes back to life in the Northern hemisphere, where I live. A month in which we celebrate Ostara or the Spring Equinox and the beginning of a new astrological year, as the Sun shines through the 0 degrees in the constellation of Aries (the first sign of the zodiac).
In March of 2017 I lost my grandma. I also turned 30 and passed my PhD. I was having my Saturn return. And now as Saturn is approaching a conjunction to my natal Sun in Pisces, and I turned 37 years old my father is receiving treatment for cancer and I am no longer able to talk to my parents. I don’t yet know his clear diagnostic but the word ‘metastasis’ has been passed around from doctor to doctor since he fell in the bathtub in February of this year and wasn’t able to get back up. My dad can’t move anymore and there is something sick inside of him that is spreading from organ to organ, binding his insides into a map of darkness. It’s as if one by one parts of him are deciding to shut down and welcome the night. He is tired, and every cell in his body is expressing this at the moment.
Dad didn’t have an easy life, but neither did he make the best of it. He complied and existed. He showed up and was stoically present while also abusing his body to the extremes. This body is now giving in and we are left to witness the cellular spectacle. If anything, dad is now showing me how much I need to love my own body, and to respect it. As my karmic teacher and through this disease, dad is showing me through the power of a negative example how not to live. He is teaching me indirectly that I should combine work with rest (he almost never took time off, except at weekends), that I should eat well (his diet was atrocious), that I should stay away from toxins (he smoked and drank most of his life) and most importantly, that I should move and stretch and feel my body (he is the most passive man I know). My body and my emotions matter, and as I am strongly feeling these statements I witness how my father’s body and emotions are ending him.
I wrote about my dad in my book ‘Fatherhood and Love: The Social Construction of Masculine Emotions’, as our difficult relationship is what inspired my interest in how fathers express their love for their children. My dad is not an expressive man. Born with a Sun in Libra, Moon in Capricorn and Leo Ascendant, he is the kind of man who would rather tell dirty jokes as he is being wheeled into a hospital bed by nursing staff than tell his daughters that he loves them. He is actually suspicious of me and the affection I show him. He endures, dissociates and remains silent through it all. He is implacable like a wall when all I am trying to do is to relate to him, to talk to him. I can understand that a part of him has never been fully expressed or developped as he grew up surrounded by women, missing a father and the warmth of brotherhood from other men in his life. So he became a wall, a stranger on ‘foreign feminine’ territory.
This wall is something I came across many times in all of my relationships with the men I loved and from whom to this day, I have not received any clear confirmation that they may have loved me at some point. The main issue that I wanted to explore in my PhD research and in the book that emerged out of it was: Is storge love something we only feel or also something that we primarily do? I was born into a part of the world in which it was customary to show love rather than put it into words, and in Romania the way people show love or do love is mainly by using food, gifts and money to make you feel cared for. Paradoxically, this same philosophy could be found in the South Node/North Node placements of my parents, with both of them being born in the 1960s and having a South Node in Sagittarius (action) which represents their comfort zones versus their North Node in Gemini (communication) which represents their uncomfortable growth zones.
Needless to say, I grew up in a household in which screaming matches were a thing rather than calm, considerate communication – there were moments of peace and understanding, but they were not the norm. So I learned to repress my anger in an effort to detach from these fearful mom and dad behaviours which I was witnessing daily. And exactly this repressed anger has been triggered since the North Node of the Moon switched into Aries and began a difficult nodal return in my chart. To add to the karmic unfolding I am also having a transit of Saturn to my Mercury and Sun. This means that the angry matches I grew up witnessing in my childhood are now showing up in my personal relationships, forcing me to feel and process my anger but also to feel shame for witnessing a part of my Self ‘acting like my own parents’. The paradox being: that for years, I have been so afraid of becoming like them, and now I simply cannot help becoming like them. And anger and shame are difficult feelings to go through each day.
Now I don’t know if the anxiety and sadness I have been feeling since the year began (and for which I sought professional help) was actually premonitory in some way. Was my body telling me that grief would enter my life and therefore I should prepare for it? My intuition has been at an all time high this year and my sensitivity to things in my environment has been exaggerated. I developed misophonia and am easily triggered by loud and unknown sounds which disturb my activities. I spent most of 2024 with my ears protected by large, high-quality headphones which would block environmental sounds as it was the only way I could go within and find peace.
For the first time in a long while it felt awkward to follow my intuition, perhaps as Saturn in Pisces is currently ‘freezing’ the organic link I had to my intuition, bringing up a lot of self-doubt. I must admit that being on medication was keeping me calm and balanced, so I could help my parents through these trying times. But in the summer of this year, I released a job and my medication after finding out my therapist was just using me for money. Moreover, when my help was misconstrued as cold self-interest rather than one of the few ways in which my parents allowed me to show love to them, something snapped inside of me and I had to introduce a boundary between us. There simply is no other way for me to cope and to keep experiencing a healing warmth when all the energy I give is being used against me. So I am now my own ‘warmth motor’ and creating, writing, reading and divinating is helping me feel at home in the world again.
As I am living at the moment inside my boundaried existence, I also keep wondering if something inside of my own body, some sort of genetic code awakening was out of sorts because the gene pool from which I come was getting sicker and sicker? Are we telepathically & empathically linked to our parents as much as we are genetically conditioned and biologically connected to them? When the source organism gets sick (the parent) does the derivative (the child) also begin to experience physical symptoms as they both are preparing for an inevitable separation? As our relatives depart, does something depart inside of us too? Could this be why people who have lost a lot of family members develop psychological disorders?
I can’t help but wonder. But on a spiritual level, I feel that I am slowly releasing a karmic counterpart, and I see dad’s illness as a relief from the sadness of his life. He doesn’t really enjoy being here, in this incarnation, and as afraid as I see that he now is to depart from it, I believe the departure in itself is not shocking or scary, but a blessing for him. I just don’t want him to suffer too much. Despite this, I made the conscious decision to separate myself from my family, raising a boundary between me and them for a while, as I am piecing myself into what I hope is a stronger person. Being so attached to them, unfortunately prolonged a lot of my own co-dependency tendencies and suffering, and it feels better to just focus on my own healing, as they are dealing with their own.
Whichever outcome, I am spiritually preparing for many possibilities, trying to make peace with whatever the Universe wants to manifest. But the whole experience has been revelatory since it reminded me that feeling broken or at least broken apart by life’s shocks and experiences, is a way to help put your Self back together again in a new way. Once the pieces of your authentic Self fall into place you get to experience a deep sense of warmth. It’s as if your solar light, your Sun sign as we know it in astrology, gets to be expressed again at full light and in full energy, helping you feel again at home in your mind and body. After an ordeal and as you process it you begin exuding a comforting light for those who may also struggle to be themselves and make healthy choices during trying times. Like a lighthouse in a bleak storm, you are the centre guiding others to their destinations.
The Spiritual Social 