Saturn Bites: Perimenopause

Most of the time when a new client enters my world, he or she is undergoing a major outer planet transit. People most frequently seek out advice or assistance of any sort when unusual or difficult things are going on in their lives--and most of the time when unusual or difficult things are going on in your life, there'll be an outer planet transit occurring. This isn't true 100% of the time, but it's true way more often than not. In fact, if you have been dealing with the difficult or unusual (in either a good or bad sense) in your life, you can contact an astrologer, say "what the ---?" and hopefully get some insight. At least, I hope so, because that's what I do, attempt to give a little insight.

Outer planet (Saturn or further out) transits may be deep and intense, but in some ways they are also quite straightforward.  In other words, for me, outer planets transits are an everyday occurrence. They happen all the time. They're a normal part of life. I take them for granted.

That is I take other people's outer planet transits for granted. Now the shoe is on the other foot. Saturn has moved into Virgo as of earlier this month. Saturn in Virgo makes difficult angles with my natal Mars, natal Jupiter, natal Venus and natal Pluto. And what I am coming to understand is how easy it is to get cavalier about these events when they are occurring in someone else's life.

Because Saturn bites. I mean that in the slangy sense that Saturn in challenging (now that's a euphemism) angle is not the funnest thing in the world, but I also mean that Saturn bites. What I am experiencing are sensations that I can only describing as biting. Biting self-criticism, biting pessimism, biting anger, biting feelings of rejection, biting grief. Short-lived but recurring biting confrontation with painful moods. Not continuous bad feelings, but ups and downs.

Now this isn't particularly surprising. Saturn is considered a difficult planet to begin with. Virgo is a mutable sign, so alternating highs and lows make sense. Mars deals with anger, so if Saturn bites, then biting anger isn't too surprising either. Jupiter is optimism, so Saturn in difficult angle to Jupiter naturally goes along with bouts of pessimism or loss of optimism. Virgo is a critical sign, so self-criticism could be considered par for the course. Pluto often deals with grief, so biting grief makes sense. Venus deals with feelings of acceptance in relationship, so Saturn in hard angle to Venus can be expected to correlate with feelings of un-acceptance or rejection.

It's not rocket science really. My outer planet transits are just as straightforward as anyone else's. Astrological symbols are often shockingly literal in how they play out in people's lives, and I have noticed the almost humorous way that the existential angst of Saturn in Virgo square Jupiter in Sagittarius is playing out in my own experience.

And the truth is, you don't need to know any astrology to figure out what's going on with my moods. What is happening is that I am experiencing what are apparently fairly normal symptoms of perimenopause. My estrogen levels are now apparently capable of dropping precipitously at the drop of a hat and sending my mood plunging with them. I have hot flashes a dozen times a day, and I can't say I enjoy them much. They frequently seem to bring on pounding headaches. My period cannot decide if it should occur every 20 days or every 45 days, and the fluctuations are not easy to take. I wake up at absurdly early hours, heart pounding, unable to sleep. Typical stuff, or so I am learning. Not hard to understand why I can veer between irritation and depression, nor why my mood will lift and return to normal when I get a good night's sleep and my head doesn't hurt.

Again, it's not rocket science. But that's my point. I'm not an astrologer so that I can master rocket science. I'm an astrologer so I can be there with people when they are going through the difficult times (or joyous and exciting times) that real life brings and let them know they're not crazy. So I can support them (I hope) in their growth during the highs and lows.

And when I forget that an outer planet transit or any other astrological event is not just an abstraction, not just a set of metaphysical symbols, perhaps I stray a bit from really being there for and with the people I talk to. When I forget that Saturn isn't just an idea, but an experience of life and that the feelings associated with it can really bite, then maybe I lose track a little bit of what I feel I'm really supposed to be doing.

I have a tendency to look for the meaning or the purpose or the silver lining in any outer planet transit, no matter how difficult it is at the time. Maybe I'm wrong, but one meaning I'm finding in my own transits is that they are helping me find my way back to compassion, to realism, to remembering what it feels like to be on the other side of the coin. To tempering my natural Jupiterian optimism on behalf of others with the simple memory that while a transit is happening, it can feel like hell and you hate it and you just want it to end.

So I have no great wisdom here. I just want to acknowledge that these things, these "growth experiences" symbolized by astrology, these transits I talk about so blithely at times--sometimes they are really hard while they are happening. If you are going through your own outer planet transits these days, or heck, if you're just going through perimenopause and insomnia and hot flashes, I can relate!

As Bill Clinton used to say: "I feel your pain."