Honestly, I get asked all the time why I go so deep on these monthly horoscopes. Like, why just Pisces, why June 2025, and why the hell do I bother listing the exact minutes the planets change signs or hit an angle? People think it’s just looking at a pretty picture and making up some vague advice.
It’s a massive amount of work, way more than you think. You see those big sites? The ones that pop up first on a search? They just slap up some generic stuff. A quick copy-paste job from the last year’s transit list, a colorful graphic, and done. My process? Forget about it. I have to go the hard way because I learned that shortcuts cost you everything.
My Monthly Process for Compiling the Key Dates
It takes me a good three full days just to get the raw data down and check it twice. I’m not talking about the flowery language part; I mean the actual dates and the planetary positions that matter to a Pisces sun or rising sign.
- I start by pulling the ephemeris for the whole month. Not just a basic one—I need the super detailed tables showing the Moon’s true node and stuff that most people honestly don’t even know exists.
- Then, I run the natal chart for the first of June using a standard time and location, just to get the houses locked down right for the general reading. I treat the chart like a real person.
- Next, I manually plot every major aspect involving Sun, Mercury, Venus, Mars, and Jupiter against the fixed placements for a typical Pisces chart. I’m looking for exact squares, trines, and oppositions within a 1-degree orb. I write them down with the minute they peak.
- I don’t trust one source, ever. I cross-check all those times using three totally different software packages. The times always vary by a few seconds or even a minute, which drives me absolutely nuts. I have to manually adjust them to the most common time.
- The final step is looking at the older texts to translate what that exact energy actually means for the practical stuff—money, health, relationship drama—instead of just saying “Venus sextile Uranus.”
You probably think I’m some kind of dedicated, old-school mystic who always loved star charts and the cosmos. Nah, man. I got into this entire ridiculous level of detail because I failed hard. I mean, catastrophically hard.
The Day I Understood Why Accuracy Matters
I used to work in accounting. Not the fun kind; the grind-it-out, 80-hour-week, highly-regulated kind. I was eyeing this massive partnership promotion, the one that meant I could finally pay off the college debt and buy a house. The whole internal review process was going perfectly. I had one final, huge client presentation scheduled for Tuesday afternoon.
I prepped everything for weeks. Stayed up late, had the perfect financial models, the pitch was solid, and the numbers were bulletproof. Monday morning, my boss calls me up, totally relaxed, and says, “Hey, big news. The client wants us to move that presentation up. Got a last-minute flight change for their CEO. Can you do it tomorrow morning at 8:30 a.m. instead of the afternoon slot?”
I thought, “No sweat,” and said, “Sure, I’m ready.” I walked into that room the next morning, Tuesday, 8:30 a.m., and the whole thing was a disaster. Total communications breakdown. I had forgotten to bring the final printed summaries, I stumbled over simple tax facts, the projector wouldn’t connect, and the big client walked out twenty minutes early. I lost the commission, I lost the promotion, and a month later, I was signing my severance papers.
I was home, totally broke and absolutely furious, trying to figure out what the hell went wrong. It felt like I’d just hit a massive, unfair brick wall. So, out of pure boredom, I started digging around online. I just had a random, ridiculous thought—what did the sky look like that exact day?
I ran the chart for that exact moment I started the disastrous pitch: 8:30 a.m. Tuesday. I saw it instantly: Mars—action, energy, business initiative—was hit by an exact, nasty square from Saturn. Not just “in the general area,” but down to the minute, Saturn—blockage, delays, hard lessons—was squaring Mars. It was the absolute worst possible minute in the entire 24-hour cycle for a high-stakes action or presentation.
My boss moving the meeting up by those few casual hours, that “Can you do it tomorrow at 8:30 a.m.?”—that seemingly innocent shift put my presentation right smack into that tight, terrible energy window. If he had left it as planned in the afternoon, I would have totally dodged the transit and probably nailed the presentation.
That miss cost me everything. My career tanked, and I was dead broke. I swore that day I would never, ever rely on chance or someone else’s lousy timing again. That’s when I started compiling these charts myself. I learned I couldn’t trust the vague app or the Sunday paper column. I needed the real-deal, minute-by-minute breakdown if I was going to actually use this stuff for real life.
I still do it that way. It’s tedious. It’s completely overkill for most people. But that level of detail is the only thing that actually works when you’re trying to avoid the pitfalls and actually nail those opportunities. That list of essential June 2025 dates for Pisces is not just dates; it’s a detailed map drawn from that hard, painful lesson to help you get it right this time.
