Aquarian Pisces Shift
I had this stubborn bastard aloe vera plant once.
When he first arrived in my home, he was living in a wee terra cotta pot. I remember leaving the nursery singing fat man in a little coat. Certainly he felt crowded. His pants were too small! There’s no way he was happy, right? He looked so uncomfortable.
Or perhaps I was projecting my own claustrophobia onto a houseplant.
In a fit of self-righteousness, I dug a much larger terra cotta pot out of the shed. That would make him happy. He’d have so much room to grow in a fresh mound of cactus dirt!
Lessons from Houseplants
I was such a fool. I waited and waited. My stubborn bastard aloe vera plant never seemed to grow. He seemed content enough. He was green and healthy. I fed him regularly. He drank only the finest distilled water with the finest cactus food.
What was the hangup?
It turns out that plants aren’t too different from humans — they require stress in order to grow. Also like humans, you need not dictate how they should be loved. They are perfectly capable of telling you if you’ll listen.
As you’ve probably guessed, my maybe-not-so-stubborn-bastard aloe vera plant moved into much smaller living quarters and quickly sprouted new growth. That new growth has produced many new plants gifted to friends over the years.
The Aquarian-Pisces Shift
Speaking of growth under stress, I personally carry a lot of trauma associated with February. Partial hibernation is not an uncommon state of being when the ground is frozen and nature exhibits few signs of life.
I used to unconsciously punish myself for this. These days, I’m learning to honor and find peace in my natural cycles.
Last month radiated Aquarian energy. Folks generally seem to hold Aquarius in positive esteem, and I don’t suppose that’s incorrect in the biggest picture — but for me it exposes the precognitive anxiety that always seems to accompany impending shifts.
Then it felt as though the moment we entered Pisces, everyone I know endured high hurdles and loss.
Our study group flew our friend out of Houston after the ice storms. She almost had to leave her cat in the airport.
The cars of three other people in my coven, myself included, broke down — two of them beyond repair.
Many of us became so overwhelmed we were forced to abandon immediate dreams.
Hell, my chicken coop caught fire and burned to the ground. I had to chase a rooster down the main road through my village at 10pm.
On the same night, likely due to a startle from fire truck noises, one of my cats got stuck between the drywall in a section where my ceiling is being replaced.
One Crisis Followed Another
It was like a whirlwind of perceivably negative experiences.
… but this is what it looks like when the Aquarian Pisces shift invites us to gracefully release anything our higher self knows we don’t need or truly want. It looks like The Tower card in your tarot deck; lightning striking everything you’ve worked so hard for to make room for things that bring you true joy.
Denying the true self never ultimately pays off. There is no obtainable thing that can replace a sacrificed life. A visionary life isn’t predictable. It drags us about on a vague and unpredictable trajectory that purposefully catapults us into situations that force us to find creative solutions. Those solutions serve as spiritual templates for future solutions, and so the story goes.
Take it from my stubborn bastard aloe vera plant. He had a big fancy mansion container but could only truly thrive in the plant equivalent of a tiny house — and he believed himself perfectly happy until he was given another opportunity to experience his true nature in contrast to the counterfeit nature I tried to force onto him.
Moving Beyond the Aquarian-Pisces Shift
Our friend made it safely from Houston, cat in tow. We were able to pull some miracles out of our proverbial butts and a new chapter has begun.
All of our car situations worked out. I really needed to replace my car anyway and I now realize how stubbornly I was avoiding it.
Pausing dreams is painful but sometimes being overwhelmed with tasks forces us to consciously decide what’s truly important to us. For this, we can be grateful.
My chickens survived and now live happily with a friend on a 200 acre farm, leaving me with significantly more space for a greenhouse and non-profit community garden project I have in planning stages.
Oh, and the place where my cat fell into the wall was the only place he couldn’t have fallen that wouldn’t have caused a major crisis. We cut him out without much trouble.
I am left humbled.
If you’ve poked around my shop lately, you’ve likely seen budding signs of these internal shifts manifesting as major changes in my business — positive changes that would have been impossible without my Aquarian hibernation and Pisces shift from mind to heart.
Are you ready for regeneration?