Astrology for me is most useful when it is experiential. By experiential, I mean lived. I may know what the quality of time portends, but until I actually go through it, the meaning remains elusive, open, and multiple. This is why it is valuable and impotant for us to share what we experience in coordinance with astrological events. It is our collective experiences that contribute to ongoing meaning making.
Even the nature of this blog post makes sense in the context of the contemporary astrological weather: Mercury retrograde in Sagittarius opposite Jupiter retrograde in Gemini; Mercury applying to a square with Saturn and separating from a square with Neptune retrograde, both in Pisces. Mercury between the Sun and the Moon. Jupiter in Gemini square Saturn retrograde in Pisces on August 19, 2024 and Jupiter retrograde square Saturn direct in Pisces on December 24, 2024.
Why does it make sense to talk about the way we know what we know during this particular astrological season? Sagittarius season is Jupiter informed and affiliated, and Mercury’s influence is flavoring everything. Jupiter is the big knowing. It's epistemology. It’s paradigms. It’s that statement: when you know, you know. Because the knowing is so big, there is an underlying sense of, it must be right! It may, however, only be right for you. And this is where Mercury can be so helpful. Mercury is going to question everything. Mercury is going to ask how and where did that come from, what’s your source, and can it be verified, can it be measured?
The retrograde cycles add layers and layers to our experience and our conversation about knowing. If we believe experience is required for true understanding, what is the purpose of reflecting on that experience and that understanding? Because it is in the reflection that we gain perspective. It is the reflection that takes us out of the certainty that our experience and our understanding = truth. Truth is mostly what we know to be true. It is not universal. It also changes over time as we experience anew, as we gain perspective, as we learn from those whose experiences are vastly different from ours.
The Mercury retrograde cycles for 2024 have been fire: Aries in April; Leo in August; Sagittarius in Nov/Dec. We have been reflecting on the element of fire in all its forms, from the spark of initiation to the fire in the belly that is creativity, to the heart flame that travels from one to another across any distance. Jupiter’s retrograde, stretching from October 9 to February 4 of 2025, is in the Gemini (Mercury affiliated) field, asking us to reimagine and reinscribe the stories we tell ourselves and the stories we tell more broadly, about others. Gemini is about perception. How do we perceive? What could be missing due to certain limitations?
You might be wondering, where is Saturn in all this, and am I going to get to the actual story that goes with the image of the dog?
Saturn was retrograde in Pisces between June 29 and November 15 of this year. Saturn is the planet of limits, and Pisces is a field of denial. Pisces is also traditionally associated with Jupiter, which has a tendency to miss the fine print. Saturn is the wise one, the maturation factor. Saturn is chronological time, and before the discovery of the outer planets, was associated with death, the final limit. Pisces is the great dissolver and also unifier, the nameless and the mystery. Saturn in Pisces has trouble finding stability, which is ironic given that Saturn is associated with longevity. What is required of Saturn in this field is a reimagining of what stability even is. Maybe it is not about lasting or legacy. Maybe it is about adaptability and renewal!
The Saturn — Jupiter squares occur every 8-10 years, and are part of the larger relationship story of these two planets. The Saturn and Jupiter dance can feel like watching a balloon expand with the awareness that it could pop at any moment. I also think of the more harmonious dynamic between them as the action of breathing, expansion and contraction. Jupiter is in a first quarter square relationship with Saturn. A first quarter square has a Cancer feel, and though rich with the tension of development, it can feel like being pushed out of the comfort zone before you are ready. The stories we tell may come too soon to realize the full picture. We may need major revision along the way. This makes sense in the context of the two squares this year: the first with Saturn retrograde (your frame of reference is disintegrating); the second with Jupiter retrograde in Gemini (let’s revise the story).
Are you ready for the story? While it is not easy for me to share personal stories (Capricorn Moon sextile Pisces Mercury; Aquarius Mars semisquare Mercury), I want to add context to my opening statement about the value of lived astrology, how the experiential informs our meaning making. I hope my story will inspire you to reflect back on this year and ask or wonder what your experiences are teaching you and what upon reflection you have to offer?
The dog in the photo is Birdy. Birdy has the color and spirit of a fawn. In July of 2013, Birdy came into my life. Jupiter and Saturn were in trine (think entwined) in Cancer and Scorpio. Mercury was retrograde in Cancer. The quality of our meeting was highly nurturing and began the story of a deep and unbreakable emotional bond. For these intervening years, Birdy has shepherded me/us through all the things, from co-parenting my partner’s child (he is 18 now!) to losing family members and friends, from the pandemic to hurricane Helene. From two moves to a month-long visit to the west coast. From job and career changes to profound personal change.
In April of this year, during the Aries Mercury retrograde, we reached out to M the animal communicator. M has communicated with me and various animals for twenty years. In early February of this year, just after Pluto’s second ingress to Aquarius, a dear friend of ours, and one of Birdy’s closest friends, died with congestive heart failure. We used to walk with our friend Janie every day. Sometimes we would just walk to her house to visit, which Birdy loved. Janie would just hold Birdy’s face in her hands and say nothing and everything. Birdy told M that this gesture of Janie’s communicated worlds without words. For the weeks after Janie died, Birdy would pull us to her house constantly. She wouldn’t let us go past. With all of her ten pounds, she just dug in. We were concerned that Birdy’s grief was compulsive, so we reached out to M. As it turns out, Birdy was not grieving (she saw Janie all the time). Birdy was worried about our grief and wanted us to visit Janie to be reminded of the joy we felt every day. Birdy wanted to lighten our grief because she, too, would be gone someday, and she didn’t want us to feel this way!
A little back story is necessary here: since the spring of 2023 and Pluto’s first ingress to Aquarius, we had been home-treating Birdy for kidney disease. By home treatment, I mean we were guided by our wonderful veterinarian Dr. L who practices holistically. We administered intravenous fluids to support kydney processing, and my partner made food from scratch. Along with the grieving in April of this year, we noticed Birdy losing interest in her food, so we asked M about this, too. Birdy also had a lot to say about what would happen when it was her time to transition, but my state of mind (denial and a desire to be in the moment with her) did not allow me to take this in consciously. Luckily my partner recorded the conversation, which becomes important later in the story.
This summer feels like a blur, probably because I left a twenty-five year much loved career, and because that was the pre-Helene time. (I have written multiple poems and Substack posts about Helene, so the storm and its aftermath will be referenced here, but they are not the story.) My partner Gaby and I have a summer tradition of going with Birdy on waterfall hikes.
This summer was no different. Only, Birdy was less mobile, so we found a pack to carry her. She loved the combination of walking and riding. I loved the feel and heat of her against my heart. Birdy had a good summer. She was holding steady. Then on September 27, with Pluto retrograde in the 30th degree of Capricorn (applying to a conjunction with natal Mars in the first degree of Aquarius), and Mars in Cancer conjunct my natal South Node, hurricane Helene hit WNC. We live two miles south of Biltmore Village. Two trees fell inches from our bedroom window. Birdy, luckily, could hear very little, but her senses were strong. We went out at 8:00 am. I was not processing the severity of the storm, despite the wind and flooding and trees bent sideways.
The two big Helene aftermath factors in Birdy’s story include the days after the storm when we could not feed her home made meals and the month we stayed at my dad and step mom's house. With no power or water, all we initially had to feed Birdy was canned tuna. We eventually evacuated for a month to my dad and step-mom’s place in Hendersonville. They had a generator and water. This story also involves my partner’s mom who was in the hospital at the time, but we’ll leave that for another day. Needless to say, canned tuna, though MUCH enjoyed by Birdy, is not the food to give a dog with kidney disease—too much phosphorus. Within a week, Birdy’s previously stabilized condition had worsened. Once we were in a place with electricity, and around the time of Jupiter’s station retrograde, we were able to return to her healthier diet, but she never fully recovered her energy. We returned to Asheville at the end of October and visited Dr. L on October 31. Birdy needed more frequent fluids.
In hindsight, I can see we were on some kind of progression, but it didn’t feel like it at the time. The days leading up to Mercury’s retrograde station were tense and anxiety filled. I couldn’t see what was going on! On Sunday, November 24, we took Birdy on a hike. You need to understand the difficulty of doing this in our area post Helene. Thousands and thousands of oak and pine trees are down throughout the region. While most neighborhoods and streets are now passable, the woods are thick with massive over-turned trees and giant root systems exposed to the sky. It is impossible to walk on most trails. However, on Sunday, we found one trail that was walkable for awhile, and Birdy loved it! She sniffed and trotted and seemed more like herself. I was unprepared then for the actual Mercury station the next day. On our regular neighborhood walk, her legs just gave out. The word I used was collapse. She collapsed. I picked her up and carried her the rest of the way. She seemed okay when we got home. We even took her across the hall to our friends’ place to watch Somebody Somewhere. Our friend took a photo of Birdy looking back over her shoulder as Mercury stationed.
By Wednesday morning, Birdy’s condition had worsened. Gaby observed her heart beating fast and labored breathing. With it being the afternoon before a holiday, Dr. L said to take her to VEG, the emergency clinic. Gaby had to go into work—first day at a new job—so I wrapped Birdy in a blanket and we went to VEG. After three hours of observation, oxygen, and waiting for test results, the doctor said Birdy had congestive heart failure (same as Janie) and fluid on the lungs. Her heart was three times its natural size. I told the doctor that Birdy had a big heart, but I know her body can’t sustain a literal enlarged heart. The treatment for the heart and lungs would compromise the kidneys and vice versa. I texted Gaby. At her amazing new job, they told her to go. Gaby texted her son Wiley, who happened to just be home from college for the holiday. Birdy passed in our arms at 5:41 pm. In a fugue state, we made the decision to cremate her. Birdy died with Gemini rising and Mercury retrograde just above the Descendant opposite Jupiter retrograde on the Ascendant in the first house. The Sagittarius Sun was trine Mars in Leo—talk about a big heart. The Moon was in the 30th degree of Libra conjunct Asteroid Helena (named for Helen of Troy, associated for me with hurricane Helene). Persephone was in Capricorn square the nodal axis (a skipped step in the death chart, what does this mean?).
All I can say is that for twenty-four hours, I sobbed like I never have before. I cried so much that water pooled at the back of my throat to the extent that I could not lie down. So, I didn’t sleep. By the following night, my grief was so severe and all consuming that I couldn’t be home and I was too overwhelmed to be in public. Gaby was worried about me. Just when I felt like I couldn’t take it any longer, an idea flashed in my mind—listen to the recording of Birdy talking to M in April. Go back to it. It was as if I had never heard it. Birdy spoke clearly and emphatically about not wanting to be cremated, about loving her little body and wanting to give back to the Earth. She talked about grief. How she didn’t understand what we would call complicated grief. If you are feeling heavy, you make amends or you forgive. You feel your feelings but you don’t live there. It’s not so much about memories, as it is shifting to a new phase. The Love just expands in spirit form. It is so much bigger than we can imagine.
I turned to Gaby and said, we can’t cremate her. On Wednesday night, we made that decision because it was late; we were not remembering the specifics of what Birdy said to M; we couldn’t bury her at our place (against condo rules); the trails were inaccessible or too public; I thought of my dad’s, but it was dark and cold. So, we went with cremation. And my twenty-four hours of unrelenting, complicated grief began. Unconsciously, some part of me knew Birdy wanted to be buried. She wanted her body intact to go back to the Earth. This was the Persephone skipped step. Maybe, just maybe, we could rectify things?
Gaby called VEG that night (Thursday), and they still had her! Yes, we could pick her up on Saturday morning (Gaby had to work Friday). Yes, my dad said we could bury her in the woods at his place (where we lived for a month, where Birdy was also happy) near my first dog Cleo, also cared for by Dr. L and M. Cleo died twenty years ago this November. Cleo told M that she would send a little brown dog someday. That little brown dog is Birdy!
On Saturday morning, during a meditation, Birdy sent me the title of a song, “Bright” and said it was her song. "Bright" by Echosmith. I listened to the song and wept. Weeping feels different from sobbing. Weeping is about relief. Weeping is about joy. The grief felt lighter, more bittersweet. Birdy was so close I could hear her! I had wondered about Jupiter on the Ascendant of the death chart. I have read or heard that Jupiter can be the planet associated with a death. It is about expansion, and Birdy’s message upon leaving was about expansion into spirit form. If you listen to “Bright,” it’s Jupiter who conspired to get Birdy. It’s Janie (also in expanded form) who is with Birdy now. Both with the biggest hearts!
We buried Birdy at Noon on November 30 with the Moon on the Midheaven of the event chart, almost New in Sagittarius. The Moon conjunct my natal Neptune. As Echosmith sings: “I think you and the Moon and Neptune got it right/'Cause now I'm shining bright, so bright
Bright, so bright.”
Shine on Birdy, shine on baby Bird ✨
May reading Birdy’s story and my experiential astrological narrative, inspire you to reflect on the events of your year. May your stories bring you to your emotional truth. May your stories expand your frameworks and set you free!
#experiential astrology #pet loss #grief
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