The Return of Saturn

Many years ago I became interested in astrology, mostly out of curiosity.  Like all such areas of interest, it pays to begin such studies with an open mind and a healthy scepticism.

After a bit of study it became apparent to me that there is indeed something to it.  I suppose it takes a fairly good eye for subtlety; having become a good observer of human nature by my mid-twenties, I concluded that the traits described by one’s natal chart do indeed correspond with those observable in a person’s actions and attitudes.  It’s not that “the stars” influence people or events, per se.  I concluded that what we see in the heavens are very much like a giant clock, indicating certain conditions that are extant at any given instant and apply to everything – people included.  And by the way, those daily horoscopes in the newspaper are pure entertainment.  There are so many different factors that make each person’s chart unique that it is pure coincidence if they seem to apply.

Like a lot of things I’ve studied, after a few years once I’d learned enough to satisfy my curiosity and determined that the field was valid, I lost interest.  This was (and unfortunately still is to a lesser degree) a trait of my own – sort of a “Jack of all trades, Master of none” syndrome.  However, the knowledge gained does stick with one and eventually can be cross-referenced with other fields to come up with new information.

For the past several years, I’ve been undergoing  massive transitions in almost every area of my life.  By its very nature this turn of events is, of course, unsettling – one would think that by the late fifties, one would be fairly well settled into one’s skin.  Steady job (or not), stable family (or none), and all that.  Of course, some people remain in a state of chaos their entire lives and there are reasons for that.  But in general, on average, by the time you hit your fifties you are pretty much cruising along…sometimes almost on cruise contol.  But for many of us, this doesn’t last.

In an astrological natal (birth) chart, the positions of the planets and sun are shown at the moment of birth, and these indicate major personality traits and how one will generally interact with reality. However, from an Earthly point of view the heavenly bodies constantly move, and this change of position can show the nature of how our personalities are likely to change as well.  This is called the progression of the planets.  Their relative positions move around the chart; as they pass any given position, this is called a transit.

Recently my attention was drawn to particularly important transit called the Return of Saturn.  This phenomena on one’s progressed chart is marked by the return of the planet Saturn to its original position on the natal chart.

Saturn  represents some pretty heavy energies: power, death, change…the Great Harvester.  And so its return to the natal position marks a  re-booting of sorts.  One’s power and position are questioned, and seeds planted up to that time will have come to fruition – the chickens are coming home to roost, so to speak.  The return of Saturn to the original position happens somewhere around every 28 – 30 years (the range during which the “effects” will occur).  So it is that as one approaches thirty years of age, the first return occurs.  One might have spent youth studying and interning, and this is the time where maturity kicks in and a career takes off or changes; likewise, a young marriage may fail or blossom, or a transition into parenthood take place.  It can take many forms.

Some of us get a third return…obviously, this would be a true time of harvesting and final changes.  Often the harvest is final (it’s no coincidence that the personification of Saturn often looks like the Grim Reaper!).  If one lives beyond it, the changes involved might be expected to be internal – a look backwards and a summation of the wisdom of a lifetime.

The Second Return many of us are undergoing now is probably the most striking one (but of course I have a personal interest 🙂 ).  We are now reaping the rewards (or not) of how well we handled the first one and the ensuing years’ work.  We can begin to enjoy the fruits of whatever we’ve accumulated materially or spiritually now.  On the other hand, we are called upon to look back and are forced to face, in the harsh light of authenticity, what we’ve  done and who we’ve become.  And as we harvest this self-knowledge, it can reveal the need to plant new seeds and to do it now.  There’s a certain sense of urgency, because we only have so much time left in this life to get it right.  It’s time to put up or shut up because we aren’t likely to get another chance.

I can only speak for myself, but I have to believe that many people are enduring a good amount of upheaval right now.  I dislike the cutesy term “Baby Boomer”, but it’s a fact that there are a lot of us.  And for those of us with children, the transitions are magnified by the fact that as we enter our Second Return, guess what: our kids are entering their First Return simultaneously!  Holy chaos, Batman!  Thus, if we are still involved in our children’s lives, the two can mingle and reinforce one another.  We are attempting to help the young ones through, while at the same time dealing with our own changes.  We can help them because we’ve been there, done that.  We know what we did right, and how we messed up and we can attempt to impart that experience to them (yeah, I know they won’t want to listen.  but at least when they’re 40 we can say “I told you so”).

The two can become intermingled and seem to feed off one another.  And yet, in the final analysis it’s up to each individual to find his own way.  We can help but we can’t do it for them; likewise and in spades, they can’t help us.  They probably think we’re going senile anyhow and it’s no use… 🙂

There are no easy solutions to this natural cycle of change; that’s why it’s so important.  It’s a gift to be forced to discard all the illusions, to admit that at least parts of our lives have been pure bullshit and to be given a remaining measure of years to get it sorted out before it’s too late.

In my case, I’m having a time of it.  But one thing I was gifted with has proven useful in all this: I will stew and struggle, but in the end I end up just taking the leap, and consequences be damned.  It pays to have a certain degree of risk-taking in one’s personality toolbox.  I look at it this way: there’s no way I can possibly know the future.  All I can control is what I’m doing right this minute.  I can take actions aimed in a certain direction, but it’s more like a shotgun than a target rifle.  Where those pellets hit exactly is hard to predict.  But if I never pull the trigger, I sure as heck am not going to hit anything.  I’ll be left standing here with my gun in my hand and nothing to show for it.  To me, that’s worse than missing the target entirely.

So to throw another good metaphor in here…go ahead and jump.  Take the leap already, just to see where you land.  Father Time is rapidly approaching you from behind, and if you hesitate too long he’ll getcha.  The only way to avoid him is to just go ahead and jump off the cliff.  It takes guts, but as they say, no guts, no glory.  Whether it’s your first jump or your last, make it a glorious leap of faith.  Take my hand and let’s go…we won’t land in the same place, but at least for part of the fall we can guide one another.  Let’s go.  Now.