Man, when it comes to the moon and all its signs, everyone online starts throwing around terms like “powerful flow days” or “cosmic energy shift.” I used to roll my eyes so hard, they almost got stuck. Sounded like pure nonsense, a whole bunch of high-vibe folks just trying to sell you something expensive.
I thought this stuff was reserved for people with endless free time, crystals, and perfect routines. My life was the exact opposite. I was lurching from one minor crisis to the next, just trying to keep my head above water. I wasn’t spiritual; I was just seriously stressed, broke, and hitting rock bottom. I needed something to feel in control of, even if it was just tracking the weather—or, in this case, the moon.
So why am I even talking about the Moon in Pisces right now? Because a few years back, my life was a total mess. I had quit a toxic job without a backup plan, I was living on instant ramen, and I felt like I was drowning in bad decisions. I desperately searched for a logical pattern to explain why every week felt like a disaster. That’s how I stumbled into tracking the moon. Not for magic, but for data.
The Start: Pulling the Dates and Getting Messy
My first step was not a fancy, guided meditation. It was pulling up a basic, free online lunar calendar. I looked for the days the moon was settling into Pisces this month—these are the days the energy is supposed to be all about water, dreams, and just deep, messy release. I highlighted those two specific days in an old, beaten-up notebook I found in a drawer.
That notebook became my tracking log. Initially, I wrote down simple observations: “Woke up cranky,” “Finally submitted that resume,” “Ate a whole pizza and cried.” My first time hitting a Pisces Moon, I didn’t feel anything special. I didn’t get a cosmic download. But I committed to doing a ‘release’ practice anyway, mainly because I was so overloaded I had nothing left to lose.
I went for the physical release first. Pisces is a water sign, and I felt this intense need to clean. I grabbed a big, black trash bag. I walked around my tiny apartment and just started tossing things that felt ‘heavy’: old letters, stained mugs, broken electronics, receipts for things I regretted buying. It was a massive, messy, emotional purge. I threw it all out. I didn’t save anything; I just dumped it. I made the space physically lighter.
Then came the mental part. I tore up tiny scraps of paper. On each one, I wrote down every single thing I was mad about or terrified of—resentment toward an old friend, shame about an interview I bombed, fear of my bank account hitting zero. I wrote 20 of them. Then, I filled a ceramic bowl with water, and one by one, I dropped them in and watched them dissolve into mush. I literally flushed the wet papers down the toilet. Don’t judge. It was crude, but it felt final. I was forcing myself to deal with the clutter.
The Refinement: My Must-Do Practice
Now, I treat these Pisces days as mandatory mental maintenance. I check that calendar right at the start of the month, and I make room for the process. This month, it lands right around the middle, which is perfect for a mid-month spiritual scrubbing.
- I prepare by turning off the noise. Two nights before, I switch to quiet music and read something relaxing. I want my subconscious to be soft and ready.
- On the morning of, I wake up and the first thing I do is record my dream, no matter how nonsensical. I don’t analyze it; I just capture the feeling and the images while they’re still there. I know it holds clues to what I need to let go of.
- The main event is always ‘The Deep-Clean Release.’ I sit down with a candle—I buy a cheap blue one—and I write out that long, ugly list again. This time, I say it out loud: “I am releasing this fear.” “I am freeing myself from this guilt.” I burn the paper fully in a safe metal bowl outside. I watch it all turn to ash and then I dump the ashes. I make sure it’s gone.
- The last step is to write down three things I want to dream for the next two weeks—not goals, but feelings: I want to dream peace. I want to feel lighter. I want to feel focused. I put that paper under my pillow.
It sounds like a lot of work, but I swear, every time I commit to this intense process on a Pisces Moon, the next two weeks feel noticeably clearer. It’s not a miracle; it’s just the fact that I’ve actually forced myself to look at and dispose of the mental garbage. I got back on track because I chose to use these days to clean up my mess. Now you know the dates, so you should use them. Seriously. Grab a notebook, find those Pisces days this month, and just write it out. The world can wait.
