Man, I remember it like it was yesterday, even though we’re talking about something still a bit down the road. I just had this nagging feeling, you know? Like a little tap on the shoulder from the universe, telling me to look up, pay attention. It wasn’t about anything immediate, but something felt like it was shifting in the background, way out there, something big. My gut was just buzzing about 2026.
I wasn’t exactly sure what it was at first. I just knew I needed to dig into my old astrology books, the ones I haven’t really opened properly in years. They were gathering dust on my shelf, looking all solemn. I pulled them down, blew off the dust, and just started leafing through. My eyes kept getting pulled to two things: Saturn and Pisces. And then, the year 2026 kept popping out at me.
My first thought was, “Uh oh.” Saturn is known as the big taskmaster, the planet of rules, boundaries, tough lessons, and building solid stuff. And then you’ve got Pisces, all about dreams, intuition, fuzziness, spirituality, and dissolving boundaries. How do you even make those two work together? It felt like trying to mix oil and water, or trying to build a brick wall in the middle of a flowing river. That was the start of my deep dive, my personal practice with this transit.
I began just trying to understand each one on its own. I reread everything I could find on Saturn, really trying to get a feel for its energy – what it demands, what it restricts, where it makes you build. Then I did the same for Pisces – its compassion, its need for connection, its sensitivity, its artistic side, and also its tendency to get lost in the clouds or pick up on everyone else’s emotions without a filter.
Then came the tricky part: putting them together. I started with a historical check. Not that I was alive for the last Saturn in Pisces transit, obviously, but you can read up, right? I wanted to see what kind of collective energies were at play when it happened last. I looked for patterns in how people were thinking, what kind of societal shifts occurred, whether there were new spiritual movements, or big collective illusions that needed popping. It was all about trying to find echoes, hints of what might come again.
Next, I turned the lens inward, onto my own chart. This is where it got really personal. Where is Pisces in my chart? What house does it rule? What planets, if any, are chilling out in Pisces for me? That really started to light up areas in my own life where I knew I’d probably feel this transit most directly. For me, it pointed to themes around my daily routines and my overall sense of purpose and contribution. It made me realize that my dreams and spiritual path needed some serious structure, some real-world application, rather than just floating around as nice ideas.
My journal became my absolute lifeline during this period. I would just sit and write, stream of consciousness, especially about my dreams. Pisces rules dreams, after all, and I figured if Saturn was coming to bring structure, I needed to capture those fleeting, watery messages. I’d jot down feelings, anxieties that seemed to come from nowhere, any moments of intuition. The goal was to give form to the formless, to make the nebulous Piscean stuff tangible so Saturn could get its hands on it, so to speak.
I also started really honing in on my boundaries. Pisces can make you super permeable, soaking up everyone else’s stuff. Saturn, on the other hand, is all about knowing where you end and someone else begins. So, my practice started involving a lot of conscious boundary setting – with people, with news, with social media, even with my own emotional energy. It wasn’t about building brick walls, but maybe more like good, solid fences with gates you could open and close deliberately, rather than just being wide open all the time.
One evening, it just clicked. I was sitting there, staring at a printout of my chart, and it suddenly made sense. Saturn in Pisces isn’t about crushing your dreams or making spirituality rigid. It’s about bringing discipline to your compassion, structure to your spiritual path, and grounding your intuition. It’s about building strong foundations for your dreams so they don’t just evaporate. It’s about learning to serve others without losing yourself entirely.
So, my ‘practice’ really shifted gears then. I stopped just thinking about it and started doing. I committed to a regular meditation practice, not just when the mood struck me, but as a non-negotiable part of my day. I doubled down on my journaling, making it a habit to not just record feelings but to actively reflect on them and try to extract practical lessons or actionable steps. It was about taking the inner world and giving it an outer framework.
I even looked at my finances through this new lens. Pisces can be a bit detached from the material, seeing money as less important than bigger, spiritual truths. But Saturn says, “Hey, you need a stable base to build anything.” So, I got serious about organizing my budget, tracking my spending, and making sure my financial house was in order. It felt very “Saturn in Pisces” to me – connecting my practical, material security with my deeper sense of peace and freedom.
Now, as 2026 gets closer, I feel a different kind of readiness. It’s not about bracing for some cosmic storm; it’s more about having done my homework. I’ve spent these past months really leaning into the wisdom of Pisces and the grounded discipline of Saturn. My ‘practice’ has been about integrating these two powerful, seemingly opposite energies within myself. I’ve learned to value both the ethereal and the tangible, and how one can really support the other.
I’m looking forward to the transit now, in a way I wasn’t before. It feels like an opportunity, a time to really solidify those parts of my life that might have been a bit too watery or undefined. It’s an ongoing process, this cosmic dance, but I feel like I’ve been learning the steps.
