I feel a bit like Rip Van Winkle lately, but instead of 20 years I’ve been asleep for about 8. I’ve been mired in healing my psyche since my late twenties attending therapy as well as exploring my spiritual side, pretty much blundering around in the dark while merely surviving day to day life and not thriving. Something clicked in the past month and while I want to say it’s likely Zoloft, it could be something totally scientifically implausible but looked forward to by Pisces the world over. THE EXIT OF CHIRON!!!
Now what/who is Chiron and what does that have to do with depression fog lifting?
Chiron was the eldest and wisest of the Centaurs in Greek Mythology, and while he was a master in the healing arts he was not able to heal himself when mortally wounded (willingly) by Hercules. Zeus placed him among the stars as a comet for his sacrifice, a very mercurial comet and now his position in the sky represents the “wounded healer” in astrological charts. The placement of Chiron in your natal chart identifies your deepest wound and hopefully guides you in it’s healing, but it can also wreak havoc as it transits through your Sun sign. For the past 8 years Chiron has been in Pisces and it is finally leaving and with it all the pain of healing on a soul level.
GOODBYE!
CIAO!
WE LOVE SOUL WORK BUT NO NEED TO COME BACK ANY TIME SOON!
All Pisces have clearly felt some sort of lifting as every astrological reading I’ve seen this month (and I probably watch way too many of these on YouTube) has indicated we are on the move toward positive growth and nothing can stop us. All my tarot cards point to rapid change, and those being pulled by others enforce this transcendent upward movement by my fellow fishies. We’ve been building momentum for 8 years, slogging through mud and we are finally getting out and we are stronger than we have ever been. I know for many years I have equated the darkness of my depression to a lotus that has yet to bloom and is just sitting in the mud waiting but now I feel there is a blade of green peaking through that mud because finally, I’m waking up.
too fat to be italian 