On Sabbatical

lunar musings │ no. 02

Hello, Saturn in Pisces.

March 7th marks the beginning of my Saturn return. Once every 29 or so years, Saturn transits back to the sign & degree it was on at the time of your birth. This slow teacher has a bad reputation for turning our lives upside down — major Tower Card energy. I’d been dreading Saturn’s transit for a long, long time. The intention I had set over the last half-decade was to prepare for this very day, out of fear of what would be ripped from under my feet.

After all this time, I do feel more prepared. The last few years have taught me plenty about what I’m not. I’ve learned what it means to let go of attachment and ego through painful lessons that would probably have been much more painful had I not taken the bitter medicine in doses. I’m in the space now where I feel much more at peace just existing. It was never the losses that were hard on me. I was just so attached to what I had that when it was time to clear it all away for something even better, I resisted.

As much as I like to rely on my intuition vs relying too heavily on astrology, I can’t think of a single culture that hasn’t looked to the stars for guidance. I respect the cosmos as an ancient tool of remembrance. My transits serve as themes, rather than rigid rules. Between the lines, like everyone else, I have been blessed with the gift of choice.

Speaking of choices — this post took a little longer to write because I’ve been so distracted. I’ve picked up a new hobby and I’ve fallen in love with being in the water, reading about being in the water, watching other people in the water. I’m being reminded that even when doing what we love, being an instrument of the Divine means remembering our soul’s mission. It takes an incredible amount of discipline to hold play, surrender, and purpose in balance every day. Staying present means coming back to that internal stillness. Sadness is a temporary place. As is joy.

With Saturn in my 10th house, the thing I’ve been putting off that I cannot procrastinate on any longer is… my career.

I’ve been blessed with a thriving psychotherapy practice and had the opportunity to witness beautiful growth in the clients I’ve worked with. (I have a grand water trine in my chart and other people’s emotions are kind of my comfort zone). Last year, it became abundantly clear that I was supposed to take a step back from the work. When I tell you the idea of quitting my job made me feel ill, I mean I put it off for as long as possible. This work is something I’ve funneled so much time and so many resources toward.

Clarity is a gift but it came over time, as I started to understand that I got into this profession for the wrong reason.

Becoming a therapist felt like the most accessible way to show up in service to others. One-on-one work felt safe and comfortable. Again with that word. Comfortable. But comfort doesn’t always mean ease. For me, it was poor energetic boundaries and fawn responses on high. I burned out. I needed a break. But I kept working, learned my lessons the hard way, and now that I’ve finally gotten to a good place, the assignment has remained the same. Take a step back. Reassess.

So here I go, taking my sabbatical.

On Spring Equinox, I’ll be stepping away from client-centered therapy work and transitioning full-time into my creative projects. It is my highest intention that I can take this time to redefine what it means to be of service to the collective. I’ll be tending to my body, tuning up my clairs, and allowing the Divine to flow through my creative channels with joyous abandon.

Source: Ciel-Terre by Bang Hai-Ja

This feels like a time of rebirth for me, particularly in how I show up in my work. Nourished by the expansive void of creation, my own creative energy/qi is generating from that place in my soul body that has too long been neglected — my womb. Fitting that my creative gardens are starting to bloom at the emerging of spring. The more I surrender, the closer my rhythms follow the cycles of the Earth.

To channel my energy into a more balanced creative field feels intimidating. It asks me to take up space on an unprecedented scale. How easy it would be to forget the mission and indulge in my everyday pleasures.

But I feel more ready now than I have ever been before.

I was made for this.

& I’ve had lifetimes to prepare.