You know, I didn’t just stumble upon Bejan Daruwalla’s weekly stuff and think, “Oh, neat, a quick read.” Nah. I dove headfirst into tracking those forecasts because I was in a financial hole so deep I could taste dirt. This wasn’t some academic exercise in chart tracking; this was survival. This specific period—the one where I obsessed over the Pisces money forecast—happened right after I decided to launch my own consulting gig.
I quit my stable corporate job, thinking I was hot stuff. Reality hit hard when my first big client—the anchor of my entire business plan—suddenly froze payments. They stalled, they apologized, they stalled some more. I was waiting on five figures, and my checking account was humming a sad, empty tune. Rent was due, and the credit card bill was looking like a monster I couldn’t fight off alone. I needed an edge, anything.
The Setup: Searching for the Cosmic Edge
I remembered my grandma always used to mention Bejan. Said he was the real deal. So, late one Sunday night, I dragged myself to the laptop and pulled up the weekly forecast. I focused specifically on the week I knew I had to push the client for payment—a critical week where my financial stability was decided.
I skimmed past the typical relationship stuff and went straight for the meat: “Money and Career.”
- I dissected the language.
- I cross-referenced the predictions with my current situation.
- I searched for the subtle timing cues.
The forecast for that specific week for Pisces—the week I had planned to send the fire-and-brimstone demand letter—was oddly specific. It said something like, “Avoid confrontation early in the week. Tuesday and Wednesday are tricky days for finance. The breakthrough happens on Thursday, but only if you approach the situation from a position of detached patience, focusing not on the immediate gain but on the long-term relationship.”
My gut instinct was telling me to blast their CFO with emails on Monday morning. Bejan was telling me to wait until Thursday and be polite about it. I was ready to call B.S. But what did I have to lose? I was already broke.
The Execution: Swallowing My Ego and Waiting
I made a conscious decision right then and there to treat the forecast as a direct, actionable strategy memo. It felt insane, but I committed.
Monday and Tuesday: I clenched my jaw and stayed silent. I didn’t send the aggressive follow-up email I had drafted. Instead, I spent that time consolidating my smaller debts, just like the forecast mentioned, figuring out how to delay utility payments by a few days to free up minimal cash. It was miserable. Every hour felt like a lifetime of lost income.
Wednesday: The temptation to break was huge. I nearly cracked. I called up an old mentor just to vent my frustrations about the delayed payment, and he echoed the “patience” theme, though from a business perspective, not a cosmic one. He said, “If you freak out now, they’ll blackball you later.” It was weird confirmation.
Thursday Morning: This was D-Day according to the stars. The forecast had shifted: “The universe aligns to reward diplomatic approaches. Use a soft tone, request clarity, and the gates will open.” I drafted a completely neutral email. No demands, no deadlines, just a polite request for an updated timeline and confirmation that the funds were processed. I hit send at 10:00 AM sharp, right as the work day was really kicking in.
The Payoff: The Shocking Result of Compliance
What happened next was genuinely unnerving. Within three hours—three hours!—I received a personal call, not from the accounts payable clerk I usually dealt with, but from the actual CEO’s administrative assistant.
She apologized profusely. She explained there had been an internal systems failure (the murky water Bejan talked about) and they were urgently pushing through all delayed payments. She assured me the wire transfer was happening immediately. I checked my banking app before the end of the day, and there it was. All five figures, plus a small goodwill bonus for the trouble.
Now, could I have gotten that payment anyway? Maybe. But here’s why I swear by the observation: If I had sent my angry email on Monday, I would have just hit the system failure wall harder. My aggressive tone would have alienated the staff, and I likely would have been pushed to the bottom of the urgency pile once the system was fixed. By waiting, I hit the timing perfectly, right when they were already in damage control mode and prioritizing diplomatic contacts.
That experience turned me from a skeptic into a tactical user of these forecasts. It wasn’t about believing in magic; it was about observing the recommended timing and blending cosmic patience with real-world action. I learned that Bejan’s forecasts aren’t just predictions; they are highly specific timing guides, especially when you are navigating career uncertainty or complex financial negotiations. I still check them every week now. Why mess with a system that proved itself when I was staring bankruptcy in the face?
