As Saturn begins to crawl through its home sign Capricorn, on its way to meeting Pluto, god of the underworld, itself moving through Capricorn since 2008, I find myself looking back, to 1993, the year when Uranus and Neptune met in Capricorn for the first time in 168 years, and triggered an underground diffusion (Neptune) and eruption (Uranus) in the Saturnian forms we have concretized into matter via our financial, governmental, corporate, and other Capricornian institutional systems.
Well, at least that’s what we thought would happen. And maybe it did; or rather, maybe it waited, incubating, until now.
For that was so long ago, we think. We were so naive back then. Young, charismatic Bill Clinton had just been elected president. And we young ones rejoiced! Then came the bombing of the World Trade Center, followed by Waco. Within just that first year, the seeming electric excitement of the new young president met the ungodly power of the Plutonian police state, and those who would terrorize it.
What has changed? Well, for one thing, we no longer see Bill Clinton as the new young president. Rather, it turned out that he was just one more puppet globalist, hastening the NWO centralization of power that has been ongoing ever since, like grinding gears. Though it looked like we would start over, we did not. Instead, we grew cynical.
And, it appears that our cynicism is not unwarranted. Check out this chart:
But now, this year, as Saturn begins to press in on Pluto’s position, I suddenly realize that Pluto itself is in the same degree area of the zodiac that Uranus and Neptune occupied back then, in 1993! It’s as if that storied year dropped a seed into the collective unconscious, one which is budding now, and due to burst into flower in 2019-20, when Saturn does meet up with Pluto, still trailing that same degree area of the zodiac.
What we were hoping for back then, might it have been delayed until now? Delayed until Pluto hit that same degree area, and in the interim the internet woke enough of us up, started us thinking and acting as the autonomous sovereign beings we truly are, finally? Ripping off the masks of social propriety, of deep state conditioning, we feel electric, alive, and filled with energy. In part, I imagine that this electrification of the atmosphere (with its attendant dangers of incipient violence) has, yes, been stirred up via the personhood of Donald Trump, himself a Uranian of the first order, wild wild card.
Those of us still determined to stick to the old, “politically correct” Capricornian forms dislike him, intensely. In fact, we hate him, think him despicable. And yet, there is an undeniable fascination, a nearly unbearable urge to furtively check out his daily tweets. How does he do it? How does he continue to remake the world in his own image?
I suggest that Donald Trump is not alone. That he is showing the way for all of us. And I offer up both the article I just posted this morning, and this article now, written in 1993, about the then upcoming conjunction of Uranus and Neptune in Capricorn, in the same degree area occupied by Pluto now. I concentrate, for this essay, on the “feel” of these planets in the sign of Capricorn. I invite you to do the same. And especially, to concentrate on how, at levels deeper than we can imagine, Pluto is activating that 1993 conjunction, stirring it, and us, into an aliveness never before seen — or felt! Can we “catch, hold and release” the energy? Can we make it work for us? Can we change the world?
THE GRAND CONJUNCTION: A Harrowing Time, A Holy Time
By Ann Kreilkamp
This article first published in Welcome to Planet Earth, Pisces edition, 1993.
On February 2, 1993, Uranus and Neptune, mysterious and superior cosmic beings, began to join forces for the first time in 171 years. Their meeting is to be both formal — the planets are in Capricorn — and formidable: the entire conjunction process sextiles Pluto in Scorpio, is being fueled from that deep and primal place. In the past several years much has been written about what this grand alignment might signify on political, sociological and international levels. My aim here is to describe how it feels.
It feels . . . as if something is being born. Something subtle and indefinable. Something alive. But where? And what is it? Nothing I can point to. Nothing to grab hold of, to say there, this is it! This is the thing! Rather, it feels . . . as if my body breathes a different air, an air that is charged, shimmering, incandescent. Alive. As if space itself has come alive. As if that which surrounds us, supports us, makes room for us — that which is so much there that there is no there there, that which we move through but never see — that which makes all else possible, providing context, the ambiance within which all our actions occur — as if that nothingness, that no-thingness itself is now something palpable, to be reckoned with. Long experienced as the empty container within which all things take place, space is now a living, breathing presence on its own.
Space . . . filled with Spirit! Slowly, subtly, Spirit sinks into matter. Traditional formulas, schedules, structures, strictures yield, soften dissolve. Energy will no longer be trapped! Life will no longer be bound! Opening opening, Spirit pours in, charged with vitality, crackling with light. The old heavy sticky emotional glue holding us in certain poses, the old mechanical cycle of action/reaction, action/reaction, the same old story the same old song . . . all of this thins, dissolves, dissipates. Spirit penetrates Matter, lightening it, enlivening it, and the combination — that incredible, impossible, and utterly necessary combination, yields something new, never before seen.
The dragon is born, breathing fire, exhaling miracles.
My Spirit rejoices at this reunion with Itself. Body/Mind hums to the new sound. I hear the song of the universe, I sing the Song of Ourself. The angelic kingdoms have grounded, they are here among us — lightening burdens, quickening hearts, transmitting instantly everywhere, with a touch both graceful and full of power.
Spirit descends, and rising up to meet it, heavy with suffering, dense with the weight of generation upon generation of pain, is Soul. Soul of the Earth, Anima Mundi, Goddess Herself, now pushing upwards from below, discharging at certain points upon the skin of this planet. Long simmering conflicts erupt — the night lights up eerily, rockets and red glow exploding like the 4th of July. 20,000 women raped! Thousands upon thousands homeless, freezing, starving! Millions upon millions more homeless, frozen, starved in Spirit, dispirited. Ready to die. Wanting to be released from this too painful flesh, this mass hunger for meaning. AIDS. Cancer. Volcanoes, tornadoes, earthquakes, fierce storms. Oceanic waves of feeling break over the world. Personalities disintegrate, couples quarrel, families, groups, corporations, nations break up. Here and there armies clash in the night like boils erupting, sudden heat surfacing as an angry rash. Suddenly or slowly the buried weight of centuries of denied and neglected instinctive life — raw, red blooded and frothing with energy — is bursting from the musty tomb into the bright light of day. The emerging female Darkness colliding with descending Light! The opposites connect and the contact disturbs, sets up the terrible tension, invites the next eruption . . .
Each eruption is preceded by crisis: old memories stir, old resentment seethes, boils to the surface — it is inexorable, it will not be denied — and we feel our resistance as a blow to the solar plexus — we clutch, we freeze. No! No! And the rupture tears us apart, blows our minds, frees. Ah, yes! Yes!
What feels bad, terrible, terrible! — when we breathe into it, focus on it, concentrate, sink into it, and now push, push! — feels good. Releases us. We can breathe more freely. We expand. Each death of an old consciousness leads to rebirth. With each death we dwell among the angels, fill ourselves with love, incubate new life. We realize that what we thought was being held “in denial” — and oh! We know how numb we’ve been; we have known our numbness, our inability to really feel, and we wondered when oh when would we let this go! And now we realize what we thought was being held “in denial” was actually only quiescent; the tomb was a womb, ever patient, slowly and with exactitude and in great darkness harboring new life — and the child, perfectly formed, is now, over and over again, being born.
What we have all been waiting for is now being born among us, slowly and surely emerging over the next nine months. Three times Uranus and Neptune will come together before this labor is over. The time of agony. The time of exaltation! Long and difficult. One long miracle. The possibility of stillbirth is very real. Will humanity choose this time to regenerate itself? To gulp its first breath of fresh air? To yell, exultant, “I am! I am!” Or will humanity get stuck in the birth canal, experience the constriction of matter so powerfully that it gives up hope and perishes.
Will we humans, so long mired in the distraction of pretending we are other than we are, will we acknowledge our longing — for the precious beauty of our unique individual souls?
Will we humans, so long mired in the distraction of ancient territorial, ethnic, class and religious hatreds, will we acknowledge our longing — for community for unity?
This is a crucial time, a harrowing time, a holy time. The birth process is excruciating. All over the planet we see/feel points where energy is stuck — as if parts of the new being are sticking to the walls of the birth canal, as if the head is too large to move through. Centuries of old hatreds must move too, if the baby is to be born intact. And before they can move, they must be felt, acknowledged — and honored, for what they signify, underneath. Pain. The pain of our shared grief. Our terror of separation. Our sense of betrayal. All this must move. All the futility and cynicism and greed and numbness . . .
. . . all this must move within me.
And it is moving. Layer upon congealed layer, pushing up from the depths, the movement itself experienced as pain, terror, death, possibility, hope, joy . . . yes joy!
I feel . . . as if I am living within a universe of infinite possibility. As if I am moving through three-dimensional space/time as usual, and yet there is no more as usual. No longer do I have to gather myself together, discipline or align myself to pursue a particular path, which is out there, out beyond me . . . All my life I have wanted to reach out and grab it, and it has been elusive, the pot of gold at rainbow’s end.
Now, walking down the street, I sense myself moving through energy condensed into swirling points of light, each a point source through which another world lies waiting, perfectly and completely formed, for me to beam in on it. Feel myself into it. Breathe as one with it. Do I want this one? Incline myself this way. That one? Shift the focus. Realize. Magnify. I simply choose a channel and beam in on it. Whatever I choose to focus on greets me, immediately. Incline my head one way, and an entire energy constellation pops into place. Shift focus slightly, and it is gone, instantly replaced by another.
It feels as if this shift is that of going from a mechanical into an electrical system. From Saturn to Uranus. In mechanics, energy is defined as “the capacity to do work.” Work is defined as “moving a force through a distance.” Sounds like hard work! Drudgery! Let me outta here! No. Grin and bear it. Nose to the grindstone. One more Sisyphus, pushing boulders up hell’s hillside. There is no end to it in Saturn’s Capricorn. This is the way it was. This is the way it no longer has to be.
The unit of electrical energy, on the other hand, is the point charge; it radiates in all directions at once. Space, a field of energy, pulsating with points of light, charging the air with, with what? With meaning. With significance. What we have been dreaming of, comes to pass.
Whatever we are, in ourselves, that is what will appear, on the outside. Outside and inside as one, the unity achieved. For decades now, we have been working long and hard, moving down into our bodies to detoxify them, to allow them feeling, to honor the accumulated rage and terror of centuries. All the stepped down, stepped on passion we have been taught not to express, expressed! All the life inside us . . . aaah, so live! Then live! Energize! Expand! Let this loving heart overflow! Let heart flow into all the hills and valleys, let this love cleanse the waters, the air, the earth, the remnants of congealed emotion still hiding in our lower chakras, compressed, furtive, fearful . . . Let this love move into there, into the sacral area and feel the coiled energy awaken, the serpent energy arise!
Mechanical energy is two-dimensional, that of the line moving across the plane. Mechanical energy is irreversible. There is no going back.
Electrical energy is three-dimensional — and beyond! — that of points in space, each one the opening into another world. There is no end to it. The now is here, it is eternal, a space forever expanding in all directions at once. Our world is round. To go forward is to go back, is to meet up with what happened, to change it, to release the past, all the guilt, the revenge, the resentment.
To step into the eternal now is to clear the air.
In mechanics, the observer exists outside, within the three-dimensional field, looking at the mechanical action along a line. In electrics, there is no outside observer. We are all parts of the whole, and the whole is reflected in each part. We are all swaying in the same wind, singing the same song, our lungs breathing, our hearts beating — as one.
Whatever I choose to focus on leaps into view, greets me, offers itself as prime matter for creative intelligence to give it form. Lifelong dreams, intentions, what has been the very stuff of life, the (usually) unconscious matrix of foreground events, manifest now. As if they had been waiting for conditions to ripen. As if they had been germinating slowly underground. What I dream is ours. As if our Body/Mind/Spirit has been that womb — and only now is the spirit made flesh. We need only nourish what already is, what has been building quietly underneath, what has its own nature, and its life appears now, in the open, unfolding with breathtaking speed. The process is inexorable. It will not be denied. This is not rational planning. This is nature in action, evolutionary. The forms which we have been harboring, those which we have created through our lifetime longing, yearning, hoping, are now fleshing in, quickening, birthing. The conditions are, literally, ripe.
What is below, Soul (Pluto in Scorpio) meets with what is above, Spirit (Uranus/Neptune) through the medium of Body (Capricorn). Of my body. My body is an instrument for conscious choice. Incline one way, and a world appears. Incline in another, and another world rolls into view. . . There is no there there. Everything is here. Here. Now. I simply choose, focus, direct intention, and what is to manifest pops into place as an extension of my body. As a field of energy taking form continuous with what I have made of my body, lo these many years. These many years that I have been clearing, processing, remembering, releasing . . . My body taking its place as one node in a pulsating electrical multidimensional network, my body as meeting place of sacral soul and sacred spirit, of below and above. Body, will, and intention all in alignment, moving as one.