At 7:34pm PST on Tuesday evening, September 17th, just after the sun sets on the West coast, the full moon will pass in to the shadow of the earth, creating a partial lunar eclipse at 25° of Pisces. It’s a north node eclipse—the node of initiation and increase. And so we will end the season of summer, not with a full moon, not with an energetic wave rising and crashing and giving us a clear and satisfying finish, but with a mysterious, nebulous beginning. Pisces is an archetype of nonduality and paradox. It’s represented by the cosmic twin fish, swimming away from each other but also forever tied together in the great ocean of oneness. Pisces is the final sign of the Zodiac, the mutable water of endings/beginnings. It takes us into a realm beyond the literal and physical—or the one before it, the source that gives rise to it. Its territory is the imaginal realm of unmanifest ideas and spirits, vibes and inklings, desires and dreams. We can only know Pisces by heart, and the “thought of the heart”—the imagination. We can only navigate it by being very very sensitive, by tripping out and feeling our way around, by empathizing with everything and going with the flow. I feel a little stoned just writing about it. This is sacred ground for poets and mediums and devotees, for psychics and Jungians and horse whisperers—for really anyone who knows how to walk through a forest of symbols and subtle transmissions and not get lost. And to everyone else, it might not feel like ground at all.
Since 2011, one of Pisces’ rulers—Neptune—has been transiting here, like an ancient mermaid bartender at the mermaid bar, pouring dream shots and amplifying all of Pisces’ most beautiful and delusional songs. Since the spring of 2023, Saturn has also been transiting Pisces, taking its project of distinct boundaries and disciplined commitment straight to the source. In theory, this is a genius collaboration: the part of us that has the most beautiful dreams meeting the part of us that knows how to make a thing real through the steady, daily work of creation. For the first year at least of that transit, though, it felt to me like Saturn had surrendered and gone down. Like, it couldn’t get a grip, so I couldn’t get a grip. Manifesting has been slippery to say the least. I had a steady stream of new ideas, but none of them seemed good for more than a day, or they wouldn’t stop shapeshifting; nothing could stay or stick. Then, starting the week before this last new moon, the new moon in Virgo, ideas suddenly started sticking. You may have felt a shift too, a turning of the tide, as Saturn finally arrived at the halfway point of its 3-year transit. I don’t want to oversell this—we are still mid transit, in the early stages of formation, in shapeshifting Pisces—but things have been finally feeling a bit more, if not steady, then steadyable.
If this were a regular full moon, we would be celebrating that turn, digesting it fully, and getting ready to loosen our hold on anything getting in the way of its further realization. But what we are getting instead is north node lunar eclipse. Again, the north node is the node of increase—it kicks off a powerful current of manifestation, like a new moon in that way, but much more powerful and much more out of our control. The north node is technically still in Aries, opposite the south node in Libra, and will be until this coming January, when the nodes officially enter Pisces/Virgo. So this eclipse is like a preview of coming Pisces attractions, a soft opening or launch of its work. It feels like whatever Saturn’s secret project is for you in Pisces, whatever dream it’s working on bringing into reality, it’s getting super-charged right now.
As with all eclipses, there’s nothing you need to do exactly; larger forces are taking the reins. Our best bet is to lay a bit low if and when we can. Getting extra sleep or chill time, or sinking into some stillness and meditation wouldn’t be a bad idea. You may not have any control over your schedule, of course, and it is what it is. But when the Cosmos is conspiring to manifest your dreams, any forceful, directed ego effort on our part is likely to get in the way. That doesn’t mean we won’t be making an effort at all—in fact, if you’re guided instinctually to do something at this time, you should probably do it. If opportunities are arising, seemingly out of nowhere, respond to them and consider their message and timing seriously. Our job—as it ever is in Pisces—is to learn how to ride the wild water horse of instinct, to feel our own animal/bodily intelligence, and to trust it. As we learn to trust a little bit more and a little bit more; as we learn to stay present and lean into the energies, to let them carry us and direct us the way one rides a wave; we discover that a balance of conscious action and surrender is both possible, and much easier than trying to control everything through planning. It’s like we just open the future, effortlessly.
If you are feeling particularly lost or ungrounded or emotional at this moment, that’s also right on time. Pisces processes are already nonlinear and irrational and emotional, frustrating the rational, analytical, practical sides of us, the Virgo in us. Add the power-outage-y effects of an eclipse, and it could just be an unpleasantly unstable time. So take care of yourself and your people as best you can, and apply compassion liberally. You might even feel physically wobbly. It’s ok to just sit down and wait it out, to surrender for awhile, and allow life to have its way.
The fall equinox is arriving next Sunday, and with it, the season of darkening and descent. A whole new cycle is beginning in the way things begin, with the end of the known, familiar world. It’s a time of high uncertainty, both personally and collectively. As Pisces guides us through this transition, it’s telling us, again, to trust. Trust is the antidote to anxiety. Even if all appears to be going alarmingly backward, do no give into doubt and fear completely. Remember, the wave pulls back in order to build another wave that will soon reach the shore. So it is with life, and the mysterious machines of grace. A Pisces eclipse is also a timely reminder that you are not, in fact, in charge or the world, or even really your own life—you are, at your most powerful, only a co-creator, a collaborator, a force among large forces. That’s as it should be. If you need a prayer to take with you this week, or into the dark unfolding of things this fall, I again offer up this trusty invocation from the practice of Authentic Movement. I’ve carried it with me for a decade. It’s a kind of simple protection spell in its own way, a good to prepare for an encounter with the unknown:
May I be able to see what I am ready to see, to hear what I am ready to hear, to know what I am ready to know, and to be as I am.
Ritual & Writing Prompts
For paid subscribers, some shortcut links to the archive of writings on Pisces in In the River of What’s Happening Now, and some specific suggestions on how to work with this lunation. I skip the ritual prompts during eclipse season, as eclipses are generally a time to ease up on the wielding our personal will. Instead there is some extended reflection on this whole Saturn-Pisces situation, as well as a sweet creative prompt for the poets out there.
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