The View from the Other Side

Posted by Amanda Painter

Utility poles in Orkney, Scotland, the day after Uranus ingressed Taurus in May 2018. Photo by Amanda Painter

Did you know that both times Uranus has left Aries to enter the first degree of Taurus in the last year (thanks to a retrograde), it has coincided with a New Moon? Amanda Painter remarks on this and compares how last year’s ingress felt to how this year’s felt. Have you noticed a difference? Also under consideration: a couple of post-New Moon aspect patterns.

By Amanda Painter

At last, the major astrology of this week (this month, really) has occurred: Mercury is retrograde in Pisces as of Monday; Uranus is in Taurus as of yesterday, and the Pisces New Moon is separating. As I write this, it’s all so fresh that I’m still getting a feel for whether the edginess and sense of anticipation I’d been experiencing has dissipated.

Utility poles in Orkney, Scotland, the day after Uranus ingressed Taurus in May 2018. Photo by Amanda Painter

Utility poles in Orkney, Scotland, the day after Uranus — the cosmic light socket — ingressed Taurus in May 2018. Photo by Amanda Painter

I’ve tried to think back to last May, when Uranus first dipped into Taurus, to compare how I felt and what was going on for me, to see if there are any correlations. I have to confess, though, I feel like last year’s ingress was easier somehow.

That could be more the result of time softening the edges of memory than an actual contrast. But I’m curious to hear whether anyone reading this has a similar sense of it all.

I know that last year, like this year, I was involved in a theater production; immediately after, I traveled to Orkney, Scotland, for an intensive workshop on voice and breath for theater. It was during that workshop that Uranus entered Taurus. I recall feeling busy before the trip; maybe a little overwhelmed; but when Uranus actually made its move, I was simply focused completely on the workshop and on exploring my surroundings when I was not exploring my own breath and voice.

So I’ve been wondering: was it partly being in a strange place, on an adventure of self-discovery, that aligned with the energy of Uranus and therefore seemed to smooth the change? Are my situation and activities somehow less in harmony with Uranus this year? Was it the resonance of a voice class with the sign Taurus (which rules the neck and throat)?

Or does this year’s edginess in the lead-up relate more to the succession of other planets we’ve had hanging out in the final degrees of signs? Maybe having Chiron in the sensitive first degree of Aries, conjunct Salacia, is providing more agitation than I’ve been giving it credit for?

How have you experienced these two ingresses of Uranus? Has one been easier or more fraught than the other in ways you did not expect?

I also want to mention a curious correspondence astrologically that I only noticed when I double-checked the dates when Uranus was last in the first degree of Taurus. Just like yesterday, when Uranus entered Taurus on May 15, 2018, it coincided with a New Moon the same day — that time in Taurus. Not only that, but when Uranus retrograded from the first degree of Taurus back into Aries, on Nov. 6, 2018, that also coincided with a New Moon (within 24 hours) — in Scorpio, the sign opposite Taurus.

I have not studied these charts enough to make too many interpretations, but I do think it’s uncanny how this particular shift of Uranus has been timed with New Moons. It’s kind of like getting a personal-level reminder of what ‘new’ feels like, as the generational planet of innovation changes its mode of expression. Or maybe it’s a cosmic way of offering the space in which something unexpected can manifest, on a level we mere mortals can actually relate to.

It remains to be seen what, exactly, this particular journey of Uranus in Taurus signifies — though areas such as resources (personal, material, global financial markets), values (both in the sense of ‘morals’ and in the sense of how much things are worth), our bodies and senses, and the Earth itself appear to be topics of focus — and perhaps of challenge, or outright disruption. Same with things like routines and habits (how much of a shock does it take to change them?), stubbornness, and jealousy or possessiveness.

In the meantime, I thought I’d mention a couple of aspects in effect between now and the weekend. One is a square between the Sun, Neptune and Vesta in Pisces with the centaur Asbolus in Gemini, exact today.

On one level, this aspect pattern adds some specificity to the theme of ‘space holding’ that’s currently being highlighted, and seems to describe a couple of questions. One would be: how do you actively hold space for the ways you’ve survived in this world, and for who you are as a survivor? Another might be to ask how you integrate your intellectual understanding of that survival with your faith in yourself to continue — and to continue healing and thriving. Any action made in answer to these questions will likely help to ease any tension you may feel around the topic.

Note that faith versus intellect is a false dichotomy, but one our current culture keeps hammering on relentlessly. Can you rationalize what your intuition tells you? Do you need to? Or is it enough simply to verify necessary facts and then trust the small, still voice inside?

The other aspect is retrograde Mercury in Pisces square the centaur Ixion in Sagittarius. Mercury made this same square on March 2 in direct motion — which may help you to connect some dots as to what this signifies for you.

One possible line of questioning involves how you feel about past second chances — especially those you’ve squandered — thoughtless ethics slips you’ve made, or intentional-but-kinda-immoral choices you’ve made. What do you believe about yourself because of these actions?

Do you need to say or do anything to anyone about it now to make amends? Do you feel too stuck in guilt or shame to want to face the situation — even just within yourself — honestly? If so, that would be the first thing to address; shame can send us spiraling down the path of repeated detrimental choices. Owning the ways we think we’ve screwed up does not involve defensiveness; so if that’s what you’re expressing currently, can you take a little time to gently untangle those threads? Speaking with someone non-judgmental, and who’s not directly involved, could help you to find the space you need to forgive yourself and figure out the next steps.

I say this knowing that Mercury retrograde in a soft-focus, imaginative sign like Pisces could make the process a little slippery. Then again, it may offer the instinct, vision and sensitivity necessary to see the third option you didn’t realize was open to you. Perhaps Uranus is now in a position to help catalyze something surprisingly tangible in response.

7 thoughts on “The View from the Other Side

  1. Alaine Grant

    Thank you Amanda! this is all for me and each issue you raised just rang bells! But it’s all part of what I’ve been working through since 2011. Planet Waves keeps giving me tools to use daily! Love and bless you all!

    1. Linda MayLinda May

      Yes Alaine I chime in THANKS BUNCH :)
      What I’d like to add about Uranus in Taurus.yes Amanda… Our MotherEarth… of which our physical bodies are made of. In this sense…. WE need to clean up our polluted and disproportioned bodies.

  2. Kelly Grace Smith

    Amanda, I think you’re right on the money with your observations of last year’s energy vs. this year’s.

    With a Uranus in Leo and being a Pisces, I’ve had some pretty serious dances with that energy the last 12 years! As you are observing, and experienced in your theater intensive, I have discovered that if I pro-actively choose to “put myself in a process” during those times, I am working with – as opposed to against or oblivious of – the energy.

    Meaning, I choose to stretch myself; step into a new challenge, make some needed changes, put myself into new situations or with new people, deepen existing relationships. Or…I simply change up my routines.

    I know that sounds easier said than done; so many people in our world right now are clinging to their patterns and routines because what’s going on in our society is so challenging and takes so much energy. The inundation of media, marketing, money, advertising, and technology in our day-to-day lives is crowding out the energy we used to have for creativity, curiosity, sex, intimacy, wisdom, peace of mind, etc.

    But if you think about it, creativity…is a process. Relationship…is a process. Wisdom…is a process. Parenting…is a process. It’s all really…the process of becoming more of you.

    So, what works best for me and people I work with is for me to choose to “put myself in a process” during challenging times energetically, especially w/Uranus. Then if I work to stay out of my emotional attachments, I get an energy boost from that challenging energy…making it work for me, rather than against me.

    What I know about New Moons is they offer the opportunity for creating and planning…which are processes, so that would fold well into using both Uranus and a New Moon…for becoming more of who we are.

    Thank you for your insights…

    1. Amanda PainterAmanda Painter Post author

      Kelly Grace Smith: *absolutely* the idea of intentionally putting oneself into a conscious process of some kind makes a lot of sense with this energy. It also gives me something to think about, in terms of: am I somehow less actively in a process right now than I was last spring? I some ways, perhaps… I’m going to chew on that one for a bit. Thank you for putting it that way!

      1. Michele

        In complete agreement with the post, and these comments.

        I asked myself the same question, Amanda — about possibly being less actively involved in the process this ingress.

        Tentative conclusion (very tentative and likely to be tested in the next several weeks): I think I’m not less actively involved per se. I think it’s just super-murky, diffuse or the process is sludgier. And I’m thinking that’s where I lean on faith — that I can count on some practiced tools to see me through until the fog dissipates, the land dries a bit etc etc. ALL the metaphors! Hahaaaaaaa

  3. Sue Edwards

    Beautifully thoughtful Amanda and the input from Alaine, Linda, Kelly Grace and Michele just made everything more fascinating for me.

    Ugh. Did I really need to go back to May and November of last year? I guess so. You did it again with the way you trigger a response from me to be forthcoming. Thank You.

    It may help for me to share my own info. I’m a 3 degree Taurus with it involved in a grand cross with Uranus in late degree Cancer conjunct my Asc. 1st, 4th, 7th and 10th houses all lighting up at once.

    May is when I was seemingly forced to let go of both my home and my 14 year old cat & companion. I say “seemingly” because it was the way it appeared though outer circumstances and conditions. What it was all about is “letting go”.

    My parents bought a stuffed animal and brought it with them when they came to adopt me as a baby. I still have it. “Letting go” of forms of security isn’t something I do easily.

    The clues I have to share is that whatever form it takes for us, whether physical, emotional or mental (maybe all), don’t fight it. Let go. The more we resist, the harder and worse it gets. I realize it easy to say and much more of a challenge to do. What made it possible for me was realizing my suffering and sense of loss was because I wanted to live in the past. Which is an anathema to me.

    The reason the past is called the “Past” is because it doesn’t exist anymore. Unless I want a Future just like it, it’s not what I focus upon in the Present.

    Remain open to all possibilities.

    It was time for me to let go and for my benefit. I’d been hauling water in 5 gallon jugs for cooking and drinking for 18 years. Taking baths and showers in water the color of tea. It took me 3-4 hours on a riding mower just to mow the part carved out we called a “lawn”.

    It’s not how I wanted to spend the future years of my Life.

    And Rascal was an old cat. What I know now is that he had a stroke a year earlier. It was the reason he just didn’t jump anymore to look out a window. He couldn’t see that well. He didn’t play, either.

    Now I’ve got a little Dickens, who is much like a little Rascal in many ways.

    In November I had surgery restoring the blood flow to my left arm and had a heart attack two weeks later.

    This time around I’m finally getting to the restoration work on this old house my son purchased. House is not home. “Home” moved with me. “Home” is my security, not “house”. It means I can now use my left arm again and actually see what I am doing.

    I’ve been remade from the inside, out and this shift for me is a shift into Healthy.

    The clue I’ve got is “letting go of forms of security”. They are forms that no longer serve us but we often do not realize it at the time.

    1. Amanda PainterAmanda Painter Post author

      “The clues I have to share is that whatever form it takes for us, whether physical, emotional or mental (maybe all), don’t fight it. Let go. The more we resist, the harder and worse it gets. I realize it easy to say and much more of a challenge to do. ”

      Sue, yet again, you hit the nail on the head. Same with your comment about “letting go of forms of security.”

      I think I am getting hints of this. And like any Taurus (I have my Sun there, too), it seems more natural to resist than to go with it all. I think I’ve always found that “letting go” of something feels less like “loss” when I’m the one actively choosing to move on from it — or, more accurately, to move *toward* something new. I think that might be a key for me: to actively identify what I want to move toward. Of course, ego defenses and old fears and comfort and so on can still kick up very quickly to make “moving toward” the new thing challenging, even when we dearly want it, or know it is best.

      Hopefully I can lean on my less “fixed” parts of my chart to flow with the process more easily now that Uranus is in Taurus for the long haul.

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