Man, 2023 rolled in, and I gotta tell ya, something just felt… off. Not bad, not good, just kinda blurry. You know that feeling when you’re trying to walk through fog? That was my whole vibe. It was like the ground underneath me had turned a bit squishy, you know? Like I couldn’t quite get my footing on anything solid anymore. I remember trying to kick off a new routine for my morning walks, really trying to commit to it, but every single day felt like I was starting from scratch. No rhythm, no groove. Just this constant sense of almost getting there, then poof, it’s gone.
I started noticing this weird pattern. Things I used to just know how to do, things that were second nature, suddenly felt like I was guessing. Boundaries, especially. With work, with friends, even with myself and my own time. They just seemed to melt away. Like someone drew a line in the sand, and the tide just kept washing it out. I’d promise myself I’d stop working at 6 PM, but then 8 PM would roll around, and I’d still be staring at the screen, wondering what happened to those two hours. My wife would ask me about plans for the weekend, and I’d just shrug, feeling this weird inability to commit to anything concrete. It was all a bit… fluid.
I was really scratching my head, trying to figure out what was going on. I even thought, “Am I just getting old and forgetful?” Then, one afternoon, I was browsing through some old dusty astrology books I had lying around – you know, the ones you pick up at a garage sale and then forget about. I stumbled across a bit about Saturn moving into Pisces. And suddenly, it was like a lightbulb didn’t just turn on, it exploded. Everything I’d been feeling, that fogginess, the disappearing boundaries, the struggle with discipline, it all started to click into place.
The Realization Kicked In
For me, it was like someone had put a name to the invisible currents pulling me every which way. Saturn, the big boss of structure and reality, suddenly chilling out in Pisces, the sign of dreams, illusions, and all things boundless. My first thought was, “Well, that explains the squishy ground!”
- I began to see how I’d been letting my own daydreams and escapism get the best of me. My creative projects, which I used to attack with gusto, now felt like I was swimming in treacle. I’d sit down to write, and my mind would just wander off to a thousand other, less important things.
- My personal spiritual practice, which had always felt so solid for me, suddenly felt… distant. Like I was going through the motions, but the real connection wasn’t there. It felt like my belief system was being tested, poked, and prodded, asking me to really, truly feel it, not just intellectualize it.
- And the boundaries! Oh, the boundaries. This transit forced me to really look at where I was letting things slide. It wasn’t just about others. It was about me not setting limits for myself. Not defining what was real and what was just wishful thinking in my own life.
I distinctly remember one specific incident. I had this long-standing project I’d been meaning to finish, something I really believed in. But it just sat there, gathering dust. Every time I looked at it, I saw all the potential, all the beautiful ideas. But actually putting in the work? Building the framework? That felt impossible. It was all dreams and no structure. Then, around mid-2023, something shifted. I had a really frank conversation with an old mentor, who basically told me, “Dreams are great, but what are you doing about them?” It was a tough pill to swallow, but it was exactly what I needed to hear. It felt like Saturn just slapped me awake, saying, “Hey, buddy, time to make those dreams real, or let them go.”
Grinding Through the Muck
So, from that point, it wasn’t easy, but I started making small changes. I focused on building little islands of discipline in my otherwise fluid existence. It wasn’t about grand gestures; it was about the tiny, everyday choices.
- I started setting a timer for my creative work, even if it was just 15 minutes a day. No distractions, just focused effort. Slowly, painfully, those 15 minutes turned into 30, then an hour.
- I made a point of actually blocking out my “off-time” in my calendar. Treating it with the same respect as a work meeting. And I told people, “No, I can’t do that then, I have another commitment.” Even if that commitment was just to myself.
- I also started really digging into what truly resonated with me spiritually, not just what I thought I should be doing. I shed some practices that no longer felt authentic, even if they looked good on paper. It was about finding what brought me genuine peace and structure in that blurry spiritual space.
I gotta tell ya, it’s still a work in progress. We’re still in this transit, and I can still feel the pull. Some days, I wake up and that fog is back, heavier than ever. But now, I recognize it. I know it’s not just me being spacey. It’s a call to look at where I need to build a better boundary, where I need to apply more realistic discipline to my dreams, or where I’m just avoiding something important. It’s about taking those beautiful, hazy Pisces visions and asking Saturn, “Okay, how do we build a solid foundation for that?” It’s been humbling, for sure, making me face some illusions I held dear, but also incredibly grounding in a strange, watery way. It’s teaching me how to be present, even when everything feels like it’s floating.
