(This is part of a series looking at America’s impending Pluto Return. CLICK HERE for the introduction) Since America has never had a Pluto Return before now (Pluto makes it around the Sun once every 248 years). it’s hard to look back and make any confident predictions the same way we could with, say, a […]
(For more on Neptune, check out “Neptune In Pisces And Penguins In Sweaters” and “Neptune in Pisces, Elan Gale, And The Diane Who Wasn’t There.”)
When you do astrological readings for a living like I do, you soon learn how to spot the usual troublemakers that are making people’s lives difficult. There are the transits of Saturn, which tends to be sharp and painful and constricting. For the last couple of years, the usual chills and spills provided by Uranus and Pluto have teamed up in the form of the Uranus-Pluto square. And there’s nothing like a quick jab from Mars to get your attention.
It’s not often that I have a client come to me concerned because of a transiting trine. Regardless of the planets involved, it’s usually the conjunctions and oppositions and squares that cause the most upset. Yet twice in the past few days I have spoken with people having major concerns about their life, thanks to a trine. Specifically: a trine from Neptune.
Just as most people don’t see the doctor because they’re mysteriously healthy, the majority of my clients talk to me because something, on some level, feels wrong. Trines usually feel pretty right. But Neptune is a peculiar planet indeed, and even “good” Neptune transits can feel weird… just as “bad” Neptune transits can sometimes be as warm and comfy as sinking into quicksand.
When astrologers speak of Neptune, they often use terms like “dissolving” or make references to drugs or being drunk. And it’s true: those are both things Neptune rules. But Neptune is too powerful and too complex to be dismissed with easy descriptions.
Neptune is hard to confront. It’s like punching a sand dune: no matter how much force you apply, you can’t blast it away with direct force. Neptune doesn’t respond readily to logic or threats or a structured environment or flattery. Neptune is a very real thing, and yet it is inherently nebulous. Neptune rules “willing suspension of disbelief”: you know that the movie or TV show or book that you are enjoying is a work of fiction, but part of you has to believe it’s real in order to truly enjoy it. You have to leave enough of yourself behind to enter the story being presented to you.
Neptune may not create mythology directly, but Neptune can make you believe in it. And mythology is a good way to address how Neptune functions. So, with your indulgence, I will slip into some of the mythology I believed in most strongly as a kid: the universe of Marvel Comics.
Let me introduce you to Neptune, The Ultimate Nullifier.
One of the most powerful entities in the Marvel Universe is a being named Galactus. Dr. Octopus might rob your bank and take Aunt May hostage, and Magneto might very well attempt to take over the world. But Galactus has no interest in these relatively petty things. Galactus is a gigantic being who is older than the Universe itself, and Galactus eats the life force of entire planets for a living.
There is only one weapon in the Universe that even Galactus fears: the Ultimate Nullifier.
The Ultimate Nullifier is a device about the size of a handgun. It’s not terribly intimidating looking, but if you pull the trigger on it you can completely erase anyone or anything from existence. All you have to do is hold it in your hand, fill your mind completely with the thought of your opponent, pull the trigger, and click… your target vanishes forever. It doesn’t matter if your “opponent” is the neighbor’s dog, Galactus, or even the entire Universe. Just fill your mind completely with the thought of your target, pull the trigger, and it’s gone. Forever.
It’s that easy. There’s one catch though: it does the same thing to you. Poof. So if you’re ever going to use it, make sure you use it against a target that you so absolutely have to destroy that you don’t mind being destroyed yourself.
That’s kind of how a Neptune transit works. A Neptune transit to your natal Sun can dissolve your ego. That might sound scary – and it can be – but isn’t that what the Buddha said we should do? A Neptune transit to your Mars can blunt your drive. That’s terrible if you’re trying to get somewhere with things, but pretty good overall if you’ve been kind of a jerk so far in your life. It can evaporate your temper… or it can make you lose it and kill an innocent person. A Neptune transit to your Saturn can crumble all the foundations you’ve built your life on… but maybe you needed a better foundation anyway.
In the next couple of entries I’ll be looking at what can happen when Neptune strikes… when you think you’re following the call of the Angels, but it’s really just the Sirens singing to you to crash on the rocks. Or maybe that light at the end of the tunnel really IS the end of the tunnel and not just an oncoming train.
In either case: “We can’t stop here. This is Bat Country!”