Saturn in Pisces: The Bone Collector
forgotten himself, he forgets nothing.
There is a wanderer who walks the margins, collecting bones. Far from the epicenter, he has seen all at a distance; he waits for the dust to settle and gathers what has withstood the force of time. Horn and bone, antler and fingernail, naught is too small for him to find and keep. He is Stranger, eccentric, a humble chronologer few understand; forgotten himself, he forgets nothing.
Saturn Enters Pisces: March 7, 2023
Saturn has answered to no one for nearly 6 years, being in both its home signs since late 2017. We have been both blessed and beset by Saturnian virtues; like specialty tools, the malefics have their gifts and skills to offer, but it often takes practice and caution to engage them safely (think of both the use and danger of a sharp kitchen knife). We’ve had a masterclass in all things Saturnian for more than half a decade. Limits, boundaries, “cold hard reality”, tightening, restriction, loss, suffering, fortitude, delayed gratification, responsibility, accountability, and so much more have been brought to the fore, especially for those of us who experienced our Saturn Returns during this era (those born roughly between 1988 and 1993).
On March 7, Saturn exits its domicile and answers to someone else: Jupiter, ruler of Pisces. Here, the Saturnian is less straightforward as it is in Capricorn or Aquarius. Nothing is clear-cut in Pisces, a mutable water sign informed by a planet who seeks to see the wisdom and truth in all things. Here is a place where the apparent distinction between things, people, and concepts is blurred, and the connections weaving all things together into a greater One is revealed. If Saturn sees through to the very substance of a thing, Jupiter sees through to the spirit of a thing. What happens when this Lord of Limits enters a Realm of Limitlessness?
In answer, I offer you a story for the times.
There is a wanderer who walks the margins, collecting bones. Far from the epicenter, he has seen all at a distance; he waits for the dust to settle and gathers what has withstood the force of time. Horn and bone, antler and fingernail, naught is too small for him to find and keep. He is Stranger, eccentric, a humble chronologer few understand; forgotten himself, he forgets nothing.
His ragged cloth is grey with the dust of wandering and scraping. He looks out of place in the Temple he enters, where rich cobalt and violet streaked with cyan reflect off white marble floors, where the weary come to be uplifted and Spirits come to rest in the primordial─ but his steady, rhythmic plod makes plain that he is here with a purpose none can doubt.
The Temple Altar is a site of trance, petitions, and surrender. Here is the chamber at the center of all that swirls about, where it is unclear if there are walls and ceiling; here the Sea of Spirit itself flows in and through, offering seekers visions and offering Spirits release and homecoming.
Bent by his bag of bones, the Wanderer lumbers to the Altar chamber. Carefully but without hesitation, one by one he picks bones from his stash, examining some closely before choosing which pile they belong to. By his deliberateness and the growing piles around him, it is clear his work will be long, and he will see it through.
Some bones he places on the Altar: it is smooth and streaked as milky quartz with translucence that diffuses soft light from beneath. He is meticulous as he selects and places, so that one might think he is seeking to compile a complete skeleton. But the Wanderer’s goal is not wholeness, completion, or perfection, but something more sorcerous: seeing which bones have Spirit left, and seeing which Spirits come to claim them as Body.
The Wanderer stops. The bones he has arranged on the Altar begin to glow; a hum fills the air. Beyond the Altar the Sea of Spirit billows, breathing, galactic hues merging and undulating in a dizzying spectacle. A tendril of color diffuse as a plume of smoke emerges from the Sea, curling toward the Altar like a tentacle. It enters the bones, becoming their marrow, the cerulean hues shifting to purple and heliotrope as the bones rise, rise from the Altar, turning and floating into a form. Sinew and fat and skin grow and knit the skeleton together as the Spirit tendril, now glowing magenta hot with orange halo, inhabits and animates the bones. Crimson fur bursts through the skin, darkening as it grows thick and rough; the Spirit tendril narrows, a stream running dry, as yellow fangs emerge from a slavering mouth. The Chimera is complete.
Steam rises off the beast as it hovers above the Altar. The Chimera’s blood red eyes turn and lock with the patient eyes of the Wanderer─ the Chimera lurches, wretches, and blood splatters the milky quartz surface below.
The Chimera writhes and its terrible scream rends the peace of the Temple like claws through silk. The white marble reflects burning red as the Chimera twists and squirms, its new body striving to hold this Spirit of battle-honed courage and rage; its form drips and hisses as if melted by some acid, and one by one the bones fall with a clatter back to the Altar.
A great reek of grey-brown smoke winds back to the Sea of Spirit beyond as the amalgam disintegrates, howling like cruel wind in a cursed valley. The Sea is untainted as it receives the Spirit again: it is vast enough to purify all that enters.
The Wanderer watches, unblinking, and his eyes record all as they have always done. He keeps no ledger, but in his mind as old as time itself he records:
“The bones did not take. I will begin again.”
Saturn solidifies and concretizes. Saturn recognizes the substance of a thing: what will last through time and trial. In Pisces, Saturn solidifies the connections between, the both/and truths that defy the false either/or binaries we are fed.
In Pisces, the truth that there is less distinction between this-and-that or you-and-me is revealed, and we find ourselves in a sea of Stories, none more or less objectively real or true than the others. Saturn in Pisces teaches us that the Stories that become Real or True are the ones we choose. The chimeras that take form are the ones you feed with your time and attention.
Saturn in Pisces is understanding that what becomes solid, what ceases its writhing and takes a Shape, is based on your choice. And there is no “right” one. It is subjective. And no less Real or True for it.
We all have our bag of bones from the past 6 years: the remains of what has lived and died, what withstood the test of time, partial or cobbled together as it may be. Now we sit at the Altar and lay out these bones: our values, lessons, sufferings, grief, hope, and inspirations, and see if the bones take. If they do not, we let what is solid dissolve back into the primordial, and try a different configuration.
This is not a process of a day, a week, or a year. The Bone Collector is nothing if not committed to the process: settle in, be deliberate, and notice the chimeras before you. Even the ones who reject the bones in the end have something to show you before they dissolve back into the primordial. Watch closely, listen carefully. And begin again.
An Imaginal Experiment: Meeting the Chimera
The end of this Story is yours. The Chimera that appears to you may not be the one that appeared to me. Should you wish to know your own ending, the door is open: you can use this Story as a launching point for your own imaginal exploration/journey work.
1) Relaxation and Prep If you have a meditation or trance induction practice, you may open with it (recommended reading: Six Ways by Aidan Wachter). If not, find a comfortable position, and take several steadying breaths. Allow your mind to run for a few minutes, and eventually begin returning your attention again and again to your breath, a candle before you, your body in space, or a fixed point at which to softly gaze.
2) Enter the Temple, Lay Out The Bones Invite into your mind a vision of the Temple Grounds: your steps are slow and steady as you notice the Sea of Spirit flowing around and before you, cobalt and violet streaked with cyan. Spread wide around the Temple Grounds are tall, white marble pergola-style buildings with pillars that reflect the swirling colors of the Sea of Spirit. You arrive before the central chamber, the Temple Altar, and walk between pillars to enter. The Altar itself is milky-clear with white streaks, lit softly from within. Kneel or sit comfortably before it, and begin laying out your bones. Hold gently in your mind the solid bits and pieces of all you have been through, all you have kept, all that has substance from the last 6 years of Saturnian trial. You need not have definitions for your bones, or a complete vision of what they look like or what they represent. Simply imagine you are laying out bones: hear their muted click as you carefully place them on the milky quartz Altar, slowly and mindfully.
3) Invite the Spirit When you feel done with the bones, invite a Spirit to inhabit and animate them. Gaze at the Sea of Spirit before you, undulating and billowing like a galaxy. Rest in this gazing for as long as you like, calling on the patience and commitment of the Wanderer if you feel restless.
Notice a tendril emerging: a Spirit approaching to inhabit and animate the bones you have offered. Notice its color, its texture, its movement quality. Watch as the Spirit infuses the bones and enfleshes them. Is there a feeling or emotion present in the Spirit?
4) Meet the Chimera Observe the Chimera that forms. What does it look like? How solid does it appear? What does it show you or tell you, whether explicitly or through its behavior? Is the Chimera emanating an emotion or energy? Do the bones take, or does the Chimera dissolve back into the Sea of Spirit?
If the bones take and your Chimera remains, ask it:
What message do you have for me?
What is your role in my life/story?
For how long will you accompany me?
(Whatever else feels right)
Thank the Chimera, and release it to go wherever it chooses.
Slowly return to your breath as you release the vision, allowing the Temple and Altar to fade. Wiggle your fingers and toes, bringing awareness back to your physical body. Open your eyes softly if they were closed, and take your time returning to the present.
Note: this kind of visionary work can be intense. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or unsafe, release the vision and breathe deeply, coming back to the present time and space. Post-journey work, drink plenty of fluids and perhaps eat a grounding snack to root you in the present. It is wise to pair this kind of work with good energetic hygiene practices, such as a cleansing bath. Find a comprehensive guide to energetic/spiritual hygiene here, from proprietress and expert Kaitlin Coppock of Sphere and Sundry.
You may journal about your experience and/or draw your Chimera as part of the contemplative work of this practice. This is a practice you can return to again and again as Saturn in Pisces is activated by other planets’ transits, its retrograde or direct stations, or transits of its ruler, Jupiter.
For the astrologically inclined, you may hold gently in your mind the following before beginning the exercise:
The houses that coincide with Capricorn and Aquarius in your chart: these house topics and significations may be relevant to the bones you bring with you into the Temple
The house that coincides with Pisces in your chart: these house topics may be relevant to the Chimeras presenting themselves
The house that coincides with Aries in your chart: the topics may be imported to your Chimera process as Jupiter (ruler of Pisces) transits this house
While Jupiter transits Aries, it is in aversion to Pisces and Saturn. The Chimeras that appear during this transit (until May 17, 2023) may not “take” or remain embodied, but they likely have something important to reveal when they appear anyway.
When Jupiter enters Taurus, it will be sextile Saturn in Pisces: Chimeras that appear during this transit may be more lasting, solid, and supportive, and may reveal themselves as allies in your Story.
The key in any imaginal process such as this is to hold it gently, take it slowly, and do not force it. While understanding transits and astrological symbols in a narrative format can be a very intellectually stimulating experience, it is so important not to overwork it, overthink it, or intellectualize it too much.
Story speaks when it is ready, and will not reveal insights if you grip it like a child grips a toy to make it move. Waymaking, or this process of inviting astrological symbols to show themselves in a Narrative/Story format, is above all about listening. My hope in offering you this story is that it will help you to be still at the Altar, opening eyes and ears to what this transit has to teach you.