I used to think people who read their horoscopes every week were just plain out of their minds. Absolute fluff. You know the type. You’d see them on the train squinting at a newspaper column, looking for some cosmic permission slip to make a simple decision.
I was so wrong. I ate my words. Every single one of them. And that is exactly why I even bother talking about this stuff now, especially Cainer’s take on Pisces.
My Big Sticking Point
It all started a few years back when I was really hitting a wall with my whole life setup. Not a financial wall, thankfully, but a massive internal one. I was trying to run this small consulting thing on the side, thinking I had it all figured out, but every time I thought I was making headway, something would just derail the whole thing. I was stuck in this loop, just going around and around, and the anxiety was kicking my backside.
I was doing everything right by the book. I checked the spreadsheets, I followed the marketing guides, I hired the right people. But the feeling was wrong. I was exhausted, stressed, and fundamentally unhappy with the daily grind. I felt like I was rowing a sinking boat, but I was too stubborn to put the oar down.
I tried all the usual self-help junk. Read the books, listened to the podcasts, even watched one of those gurus screaming about manifesting wealth. Nothing landed. It was all too generic. I needed something that felt like it spoke directly to the weird, messy feelings I was having about giving up on this whole project that was actually making me miserable.
The Dive Into The Deep End
One Tuesday morning, I was just scrolling, utterly defeated. I was killing time waiting for a client who was inevitably going to cancel. I saw one of those little ads pop up—something about the week ahead. Usually, I swipe past that garbage in a flash. But that day, I was desperate. I just clicked it. I saw the list of signs. I’m a Pisces, and I figured, what’s the worst that could happen? I waste five minutes?
I read the generic stuff first. It was blah. Then I saw a reference to Cainer. I clicked around and found his actual column. It was a completely different tone. It wasn’t talking about winning the lottery or meeting someone tall and handsome. It was talking about the internal fog. It mentioned recognizing when a path you chose out of obligation needs to be respectfully retired. It used words that actually described the knots in my stomach. I was stunned.
- I stopped just reading it and started doing something much more practical.
- I grabbed a small notebook—not digital, just a physical one.
- I wrote down the main theme of that week’s insight.
- I noted down the two practical actions the horoscope implied I should take, translating the cosmic language into my everyday stupid problems.
- I tracked what I actually did that week, completely ignoring my usual plans.
I didn’t tell a soul I was doing this. I just plunged right in, treating it like some weird, unauthorized personal experiment. This wasn’t about belief. It was about using a totally outside perspective to interrupt my own stuck thinking.
The Real Insight Arrived
For the first few weeks, I was skeptical. One week, the insight was all about accepting loss as a necessary part of growth. My immediate reaction was, “No way, I’m going to fight for this client.” But because I had this little note telling me to ease off, I didn’t push. I just sent a polite, easy-out email. They signed with someone else.
In the old days, I would have spent three days stewing and beating myself up over that lost revenue. This time? Nothing. I felt a weird sense of relief, like a weight had been lifted. The money wasn’t the point. My energy was the point.
The next week’s Cainer message was about using your creative energy, not your structural energy. I looked at that little notebook, decided to stop trying to force the consulting gig to work, and instead, I just started writing down all the silly stories and life lessons I had accumulated. That’s actually how this whole blog thing got started. I threw out the whole old setup and just started sharing my messed up process.
It was never about future telling. It was about getting a prompt. My logical mind was so overloaded with spreadsheets and deadlines that it needed an outside cue, even a ridiculous one, to pivot. Cainer’s stuff, for my sign anyway, just happens to talk about emotional honesty and internal shifts, which is exactly the kind of mess I was in.
So, now, when someone asks why I bother or why I share these notes, it’s not because I think the stars moved a widget. It’s because during the absolute lowest point of my professional life, when I couldn’t trust my own thinking, I used this crazy method to force myself to make the hard choice. It was the only thing that spoke to the deeper level of feeling I was running away from. That little notebook is still sitting on my desk, full of scrawled, messy predictions that weren’t predictions at all, but just the framework I desperately needed to rebuild everything from the ground up.
