In Response to Life
Lessons from Saturn and Mars on abstract dreams, ambition, and the value of life.
When I was about 8-years-old, my swimming instructor told the class that we had to jump from the highest diving board before leaving. I’m not sure if it was supposed to be a reward or a punishment, but I sure was scared. Actually, I was really scared because my instructor was a little mean. I let all of my classmates go first because my heartbeat was probably pounding in my head. Each step up the tall ladder reminded me of the impact of what it would be like to fall from that high… and higher… and higher. By the time I was at the edge of the board, I stood there. I looked in front of me at the bird’s eye view I had of the entire pool complex, to my right where the bleachers were — where my mom was waiting for me with a towel in her hands, downwards towards the deep pool of resting water, to the ground floor where my friend was slowly walking away to the showers as she waited for me, and where my teacher was now frustratingly gesturing me to come down. I wasn’t sure if he was waving his arm up and down as a signal for me to jump or to climb down the ladder. At that point, I’m not sure if I started walking back to climb down the ladder and I ended up not following through with giving up or if it’s because I saw him start to walk away. Was he just going to leave me? What was I supposed to do? And then I just jumped.
Lo and behold, the water caught me! I didn’t sink all the way to the bottom! When I got out of the pool, my instructor didn’t even say anything to me. He might’ve just grunted. Maybe he was pissed that I wasted so much time and he just wanted to go home. When I started walking towards the showers, my friend told me “Everyone saw” like I was supposed to be embarrassed. I wasn’t even thinking about the spectacle I put on for the whole pool complex as a child just standing on the high diving board for maybe five minutes, although it felt like a long time. From the moment my body decided to jump, I let go of my worries and I found accomplishment and it only came from within. I did it.
This is one of those stories that the tiny people inside of my head like to pull up at random times and I wanted to share it to talk about Mars and Saturn.
I have recently experienced a pivotal mind-bending, dream-crushing event that triggered another identity crisis. Is growing older in your 20s just asking yourself if the harsh reality of what it takes to fulfill your dreams even worth it? Beyond any dream being worth it, do I want them… that bad? Would I be okay if they don’t happen when I want them to happen? Can I live without fulfilling them?
I’ve always been an ambitious person and my dreams have been quite abstract, like wanting to be famous or live abroad. When dreams are abstract like that, you aren’t thinking about the reality (Saturn) of what it would take. I had this long-time dream of living in New York city and going to school there seemed like the most realistic option to live that dream. But is it? Saturn reminds me of all the systems that make it incredibly difficult for me — to name a few, the American education system and graduate programs in general are cash grabs (especially for international students) and I do not come from a wealthy family. Let’s say I do apply to my “dream” program and I get in. Would I even enjoy being around classmates, most of whom would come from upper social classes? Or would the whole experience be exhausting trying to explain and re-explain and suppress my upbringing — my identity? If a dream or a goal is difficult, do they exist because they want me to work through them, or do they exist for me to learn the reality of what they are… and maybe, to pivot or let them go?
When I get into this space of questioning, or as I think it is, being stuck in anxiety — affirmative to having Saturn conjunct my Ascendant,1 I start to lose sight of the dream. I start to get in my head, telling myself “I need to know if I am capable. I need to know if I can do this, if I can afford this, if I can deliver 110% to make all the sacrifices worth it. I need to know if I have it in me. I need to feel strong. I need to know if all of my work will be worth it. Because failure isn’t an option for me. It’s either I am doing this 110% or I’m not.” And part of this dialogue comes from my upbringing — again, going back to being in survival mode and being a child of immigrants.
So in these instances, I turn to Astrology. “Okay, let’s dissect my 11th house stellium.”2 And after many times trying to dissect and understand the 11th house, I have accepted that I currently see it and theorize it as an abstract house. Let me walk you through it.
I’ve spent years doing the hermit, ego work; not to say that it’s over, just that I quite literally isolated myself from many people for a long time, and not just because of the pandemic. I’ve worked on understanding codependency with my counselor. I’ve done a lot of healing work trying to understand love on my own, but just how relationships are not the work of myself, I realize that the 11th house, where a lot of my planets/energy lies is tied to the collective. And instead of falling into the trap that everything is on me (Saturn), I need to acknowledge that the root of my greatest, abstract dreams do not prioritize me.3 Mars working with my Saturn4 reminds me that how I decide to act in response to life, even if much of it comes from being in survival mode and an inner sense of accomplishment and determination, is there to remind me of what I tend to question when I get very anxious.
As I’ve been saying time and time again since turning 25, my younger self inspires me so much. When you’re younger, you haven't grown into your mind as much so you’re moving out of instinct. As I said in my story, I wasn’t even thinking about the fact that people were staring at me and watching me when I was scared. I was too focused on deciding if I was going to jump. And then I did it and that made me happy and it was one of the many moments that built up on creating who I am.
Of course, my dreams like moving abroad and higher education involve more dire resources that I have the privilege of being reliant on and consequences that I can’t even fathom until actions are made. It’s not the same as a pissy instructor relying on me jumping off a diving board so he can leave.
I don’t think I have to know now and while this story/article kind of villainized Saturn, writing this has also made me wonder — What if these big dreams are asking me to acknowledge the wisdom I have gained from the moments my Martian instincts took over? What if these big dreams are asking me to acknowledge that I have the big brain and the big determination to accomplish them? What if these big dreams are asking me to acknowledge my autonomy, which encompasses my ability to choose, to think and work through these hardships? I can't think of any moment, any job, any goal of mine where I have not delivered, despite being slow or making mistakes. Eventual success does not mean I wasn’t successful, it means I was determined enough to follow through.
Without being able to contextualize the mental energy it takes for me to live, a lot of this is spiritual. The amount of trust I have to hold onto dreams I cannot actually grasp with my bare hands asks for full surrender to the journey, and that is difficult when you live in a material world. But when you want something so bad and when you can envision it, there is so much power in showing people to trust your sovereignty and for me, that exists in so many personal stories and experiences.
It took courage to jump off that diving board. It took courage to take breaks in school while social pressure made me feel bad for it. It took courage to go back to school to complete this 4-year degree as a (will be) 26-year-old. It took courage to keep going every time I thought I couldn’t. It takes a lot of courage to be myself despite what others could think of me. I realize that I undermine my determination, and Saturn, “father of time,” reminds me — you did it and you can do it… if you want to. There’s so much potential in me that I don’t realize and so much potential I won’t realize until I immerse myself in life experience, just like when I decided to jump off the diving board.
I also believe my ambition was a gift from my ancestors. This life may be the most liberating one in a while for my lineage and I feel like as an Aries rising, whose narrative is one of a leader and a warrior, they are rooting for me to follow my big, abstract dreams and acknowledge the privilege I have, granted by their sacrifices, to go at my own pace. For every obstacle I face, they are the ones that keep my dreams alive. They show up in the people I meet, in meditation, randomly in my thoughts, and especially when I’m writing. My past is where these dreams are rooted and that is why life is precious and why I must live it fully.
Saturn is the planet of responsibility, time, and work. When it is making an aspect to a point in your chart (Ascendant, Descendant Midheaven, IC) or to a planet, Saturnian themes will affect it/them. In my case, an an Aries Rising, I do not embody the Aries qualities as obviously than if I didn’t have direct Saturnian influence. This manifests as me being more anxious and cautious than impulsive and confrontational. I still have those latter mentioned traits and moments where I embody them, but they just aren’t as easily accessible because Saturn’s effects limit those qualities.
A stellium is the result of 3 or more planets in one sign or house. If a planet rules certain themes and a group of planets fall into one sign or house, this manifests as an overwhelming amount of energy being focused on that sign or house. Like the essence of natal charts and Astrology itself, we grow into our charts (a natal chart encompasses correlation not causation!) and a stellium has great potential when we learn to work with it and understand it.
In editing this article, I realize a lot of my descriptions sound like 12th house themes and depending on your choice of house system, if you’re including how close a planet is to a house cusp, etc., planetary positions will differ. For the purpose of this article, I am analyzing my chart using the Whole Sign system. Technically, my chart ruler (Mars) conjunct Jupiter can be considered to be in the 12th house using the Placidus system as it is less than 5 degrees away from the 12th house cusp, and I acknowledge that’s where a lot of this “holding onto dreams I can’t grasp” language can stem from, but for now, I honor the Whole Sign & Placidus system — heck, I even acknowledge my sidereal chart. All that being said, It’s a lot to hold when you’re just learning Astrology. Some astrologers say to pick one house system and run with that, but when you’re writing and analyzing from an intuitive place, that’s what you can build on seeing what system works best for you. Personally, I can see the my interpretations fitting both 11th and 12th matters. After all, while the 12th house is collective consciousness and the unknown, Aquarius is similar in the way that it’s the “masses,” “community,” and the detachment needed to see the big picture.
My Saturn and Mars are in mutual reception. This means that these planets are ruled by each other’s signs and they help each other like neighbors taking care of each other’s houses (as depicted by @kirastrology on Twitter). My Saturn is in Aries, which is in “fall” — it struggles in Aries because Aries/Mars energy is impulsive, proactive, confrontational. On the other hand, Saturn is the ruler of Capricorn and Aquarius — he prioritizes stability, patience, and thoughtfulness. My Mars is in Aquarius, which I arguably like (of course I would think this as a fixed Mars LOL) because it means I’m good at picking and choosing my battles. However, Aquarius is just not home for Mars, who wants to take charge and be brave and be confident. My Mars manifests like a quiet but confident loner. It’s “stronger” than my Saturn placement because it is not dignified or debilitated (and it’s also conjunct Jupiter — a benefic planet — which helps it). I think I got carried away but I hope that made sense… basically the planets are helping each other!
This article was originally posted on Substack on March 10, 2023.