Pisces - Coming to closure

The Universe! Unfathomable, limitless, infinite in every direction. In Pisces we leave the bounds of the known world and expand until we encompass the stars, the ether, everything that is. But what is "everything?" How can one talk about "everything" and not tell a lie? You'll never gather a complete list, and even if you just try to describe what you know of, you'll never know the complete nature of anything, anyway! ("Well: I'm depressed! Nothin' much to do but give up and go back to bed...")

This is the murky dreamland of Pisces, in which we reach beyond physical reality, beyond social reality, beyond the unconscious, beyond everything that is known. What do we find, out there? Only Pisces knows and she's not telling ....or is she?

Pisces, ruling planets Neptune (modern) and Jupiter (traditional), and the 12th House are linked to these concepts:

And yet, after listing all these keywords, we still don't know the true nature of Pisces! Alas, Pisces is to be experienced, not simply described. So take off your ego, leave your Saturn at the "door," and let us enter into the realm of Pisces...

In Perpetuity

Nothing is distinct. This is not simply a philosophical game, nor a matter of allegory. It is True. Think about it: at what point does your skin become air? ("Huh?? Excuse me, but have you been sniffing those crazy mushrooms lately...?") We take for granted that Saturnian definitions are the final, ultimate reality, but when you get down to the molecular, even atomic level, at one point does our skin cease to be skin and become the air around it? ("I must apologize for our delirious—I mean, illustrious author, folks. She's been under a great strain...") At a certain point, it's an arbitrary decision as to where the boundary of skin leaves off and air begins.

It's similar to the debate that exists in sidereal astrology regarding where one constellation ends and the next one begins. Do we take it to be the midpoint between their closest stars? Do we take into account the faint stars that are visible only through a telescope? How about the midpoint between the stars that intersect the ecliptic? What about constellations that overlap (e.g., Aquarius and Capricorn)? Or the tiny signs (e.g., Aries) that take up a fraction of the space the others do? ("And what about the constellation of Pegasus that hovers over Aquarius and Pisces, making sure they don't get into any trouble but NEVER getting any recognition???")

What had seemed to be a straightforward problem now appears impossible to resolve fairly or meaningfully. You can apply the same analysis to the boundary between skin and air, at the molecular or atomic level. In the hazy area in between definite things, there exists a place of ambiguity, obscurity, ambivalence. This is Pisces territory!

It's not so easy to envision! ("Well why the heck not??? Hrmph! What do I have to do? Flap my wings like a do-do bird?!") We're used to understanding everything within us and around us as being distinct, separate and solid. When we're confronted with the fluid infinity beyond the world of form, and the arbitrariness of physical boundaries and definitions, it's easy to want to retreat back into the familiar world of Saturn, where everything is finite and reality is... well, real! And if we have trouble figuring out where one thing begins and another ends, imagine how confusing it is when we look at people, personalities, emotions and issues!

Many people report that the most difficult outer-planet transit to undergo is not pulverizing Pluto, nor explosive Uranus, but nebulous Neptune. Although we are challenged to surrender our ego control to each of them (albeit differently), Neptune bids us surrender our entire grounding and sense of what is real. This is more than the average person can endure without his/her bedrock sense of security and reality beginning to erode away. One has no control over the Neptune experience because there is nothing to control! The only thing to do is surrender oneself to the magic carpet ride into the Void — which can be distressing, indeed!

On the other hand, there are those who really enjoy the Neptune experience; who look forward to an opportunity to "let go and let God" (as the 12-step saying goes). They treat a Neptune transit as a vacation from the confines of the world of limitation — an occasion to celebrate the spiritual side of life and surrender themselves to the cradling arms of the Universe. The Neptune experience is a chance to go back to the godhead, back to our spiritual source, beyond our attachments, desires and other ego-based appetites. It is a time to reorient our alignment with the Universe, to stretch beyond our physical existence and embrace our meta-physical nature. If you want a taste of this perspective, surrender yourself to some rapturous music, or let yourself fall tumbling into the exquisite beauty of a sunset.

To Catch A Cloud...

However, as soon as we leave the familiar Earth-plane, we run into problems because we no longer have the usual rules and laws of the solid, defined world to use as reference points. How can we know for certain that there is life after death? Is there a God? Are there several? Are psychic phenomena real or the result of a creative, intuitive imagination? How can we incorporate belief and faith into the world of fact without contaminating the facts, or restricting our beliefs to the point of rendering them little more than quaint psychological crutches? How do we acknowledge our "sixth sense" without referring to the other five? ("Ya well, I sense that you're not making any sense. Of course, as long as you're making cents, then any comments or judgments from the malcontents are irrelevants!")

Indeed, to truly espouse any of these Piscean phenomena, one must either take them blindly on faith, or personally venture into the ethereal realms and directly experience them. Either route lands us on dangerous ground when we attempt to justify and validate our views. If we blindly accept something, how do we know we're not deceived or misguided? And if we want to report our spiritual adventures, we have no way to "prove" their validity beyond our say-so.

This is similar to the dilemma astrologers face when confronted by sceptical scientists. In astrology, we are dealing with a system that is evident only through its practice and observation. However, being so complex, and in the absence of a solid theory as to why it works, it is extremely difficult (if not impossible) to present convincing proof that astrology is anything more than the power of suggestion. Few sceptics are prepared to take the time, or risk the personal investment, to learn the intricacies of astrology, enough to form an opinion that isn't based on their own supposition and conjecture. ("Ya, I used to be sceptical, too, but I can't believe I was ever that doubtful...")

In Pisces, we're always faced with the predicament of determining if our belief in things non-rational is more than mere wishful thinking. By the same token, we must also question if our scepticism is just inflexibility, rooted in a physio-centric bias. ("Kinda like swimming upstream in both directions at once!") It's not enough to think we can hide under a Saturnian rock in order to avoid confronting the Neptunian question. Even our so-called objectivity and detachment are suspect, since they could be motivated by prejudicial rigidity rather than a genuine desire for purity or clarity.

The trick with Pisces is that we can never be sure if what we're seeing is valid or an illusion. There is a facet of reality within the realm of Pisces, but it doesn't conform to the usual laws and rules of the material world. As such, it resists scientific scrutiny and clear description. ("Slippery little devil! Just my kind of fish!") In Pisces, we must wrestle with the phantom of unconscious motivation and the spirit of longing for something greater than ourselves.

Saying Goodbye

Pisces is significant—indeed, essential—because it brings us to the wellspring of our being. ("Okay, so it takes you to the nearest New Age spa for a cosmic shower. Just don't forget the deodorant...") It brings us back to the source; to the root of all that we are and all that we can be. It renders us empty that we may be galvanized once more by the thrust of Life.

Archetypally, Pisces ends one cycle and brings us to the brink of a new one that starts again in Aries. In order to embrace something new, we must empty ourselves of all that forms a barrier between us and that "something new." This means letting go of the old way of doing and perceiving things. It means sacrificing our security and attachment to what has become familiar and comfortable, so that we may prepare the way for new growth. And we must surrender to this process or risk carrying over attachments from the old cycle that will contaminate the new one. It would be like pouring clean water into a glass that still contains the residue of yesterday's milk.

Ironically, by clutching the old cycle we also risk losing the fruits of our hard work from that same cycle. It's like moving to a new house, but refusing to pack up our things. We'll leave behind what we have accumulated when it's time to move on. If we resist the closure process of Pisces, we may not retain the rewards we have harvested. The end is at hand, whether we march through it like a portal or whether we're dragged through it kicking and screaming.

Becoming Empty

Closure is rarely easy, whether we are ending a job, finishing a project, saying good-bye after a visit with a cherished friend, or grieving the death of a loved one. In western culture, we are taught to "get over it" as quickly as possible. Places of employment usually only give about three days for bereavement after a death. ("Gee! Three whole days!") And we are continually exposed to TV sitcoms that gleefully resolve every dilemma known to humankind in the span of half an hour. ("I did it once in 27 minutes, but they keep coming back again...")

Often we don't know how to do closure. How do we say good-bye to something that has been in our lives? We expect that all we must do is put it from our minds and all the emotions, concerns, fears, anger, resentments and insecurity will magically disappear. We believe that "time heals all wounds". ("Except for Jane Ace, the American radio personality, who claimed that time wounds all heels!") And indeed, the passage of time does bring us to a place where old realities seem relatively minor and small against the expanse of the past. "That was then, this is now," as the saying goes. Situations change, circumstances adjust, priorities shift and what was once prominent retreats into the distance, while other conditions emerge to be dealt with.

However, the unresolved issues of the past have a way of coming back to haunt us. Traumatic events must be dealt with directly in order to heal and recede into the background of our lives; they don't just "go away" conveniently by ignoring them. ("Sure they do! Well, they go underground and get squatter's rights in the unconscious — does that count?") We find the problems of yesterday that we thought we'd left behind have now resurrected in a different form. For instance, the person who once suffered traumatic violence, yet insists that s/he only needs to put it behind him/her, may experience intermittent flashbacks of fear. They may find their whole approach to life becomes contaminated by a phobic avoidance of risk. When we don't do closure, the prevalent issues don't melt into the background of our past, so much as they become camouflaged in the murkiness of the unconscious.

As important as it may seem, we often become confounded when faced with the task of closure. What is to be done about a loss or ending that one is powerless to change? We typically see ourselves as helpless in the face of such inevitability and, hence, tend to surrender to the helplessness, rather than to the process of closure. But it is not a case of doing something about the ending, so much as doing something with it. We must grieve the losses, celebrate the benefits, and let what has been pass through us into the past. And we must garner faith in the Universe to carry us through the Void of letting go.

How To Let Go

However, we cannot let go of something we haven't yet embraced. In the archetypal cycle, the closure process is actually performed throughout the 4th Quadrant (in Capricorn, Aquarius and Pisces). In Capricorn, we take inventory of the reality and solidity that we've created, and build a containing structure to retain what we've accomplished. In Aquarius, we long for liberation and begin to detach from what has been, separating what is truly important from what has merely been the vehicle for acquiring it. And in Pisces, our drive for liberation becomes a longing for emptiness, as we fully let go of the shell of that vehicle in order to make room for the new cycle. If we haven't done our work through these stages, in one form or another, we'll probably bring unfinished business with us into the next cycle and lose much of the benefit we've attained in the current one.

Only by participating in this closure process can we mindfully and openly distil that which is real (transferable into the next cycle) from that which is not (the shell that merely facilitated the formation of what is transferable, but is not the form itself). That distillation is the essence of the Piscean role in the cyclical drama. Pisces impels us to dissolve the attachments that bind us to the apparitions in our lives, and surrender to Spirit which forms the raw material that will seed the next cycle.

REPRINT NOTE: These Transitions Magazine zodiac sign articles originally contained a section about the New Moon cycles in each sign. Since these sections were relevant only at the time of publication, the New Moon sections have been omitted here.

Transitions Magazine has always included a description of each of the four primary lunar phases with each New Moon article. In giving suggestions as to how to best work with the prevailing energy in each phase, readers have always been encouraged to do some sort of closure ritual or assessment in the final or Last Quarter phase. This article on Pisces has hopefully given you a better understanding of why this closure process is so important.

Closure can be done in many ways, some overt, others subtle. You might clean our your closets (symbolically emptying your life of unnecessary baggage). ("Or better yet, you could be co-dependent and clean out MINE!") You could write down everything you've done, experienced, learned and acquired during the cycle that's coming to a close, and then burn the list (embracing each one before letting it go). You can sit in meditation, in silence, or listening to dreamy music, and ponder all the things that you've gone through during the last 4 weeks. You could also talk with a friend, sharing what you've learned and what is left to work through in the issues and areas that have been active during the current cycle.

Closure involves not just taking stock of what has been, but also anticipating what can come from what has been. In the Last Quarter phase, we also tend to dream (sleeping or daydreams) about what we'd like to see evolve out of the activities and events of the past cycle. If the current cycle has focused your attention on wrestling with problems in an intimate relationship, for instance, you may find yourself thinking of what you'd like to do after the dust has settled. ("Ya, bury the hatchet—in HIM! Oh sorry, my pet Human tells me I'm being sexist. So bury it in HER, too!") If the current cycle has brought out some difficult realizations about an area of your life, the Last Quarter phase will call you to shed the experience of learning, while retaining the learning itself, and look toward ways that you can integrate and utilize your realizations in other areas of your life.

If life is a journey meant for learning, then we must find a way to bring each learning process to a close so that we can go on to learn more. We must graduate from our current "grade," committing its events to memory and facing the next "grade" with increased knowledge and an open mind. It is a time to grieve the loss of what we cherished about the current time and celebrate the benefits we've harvested from it. In this sense, Pisces may be the most important part of the zodiacal progression. ("Second only to the sign of Pegasus, of course!").