On Having No Particular Direction: Mutable Angles

During a recent reading, I advised a client that their chart spoke to a patchwork of experiences that may not make sense at the time, but that contribute to and create their Great Work, their legacy. Like a quilt fashioned from different textures and patterns but keeps you warm all the same. It was only after the session ended that I realized I was doing that ironic thing where you lovingly dole out advice that you would do well to take yourself.

I have always struggled to pinpoint any one direction in my life. My interests are myriad, and the energy I put into them is endless. My midheaven sits in the vast expanse of energy otherwise known as Pisces, where consciousness bends and snaps in and out of place, up, down, and around, very much aware of cosmic speed limits but choosing to set its own pace anyway. Pisces is that sign that you can never quite get a read on precisely because it speaks no language. Pisces is the experience of experience. Pisces and Gemini aid and abet each other in my chart, Gemini fascinated by anything that moves, Pisces the movement itself. It is the tension of possibility. Add Mars into the picture and suddenly this duo has nowhere to go, and fast.

I used to want to be a surgeon. My mom bought me books about the human body. Devoured. Next. I wanted to be an astronaut. My mom bought me stickers of the planets that glowed in the dark. Wow…