The Neptune Cycle: Perceptions and Perspectives

The other day a client described a certain period in her life as “foggy.”

An astrologer hears the word “foggy” and immediately thinks of Neptune, that veil of mystery shrouding us from hard reality.

What’s surprising is not that the woman’s Age Point was crossing Neptune right during the time period she spoke of, but that she woke me up to the fact that I’m going through a major Neptune cycle right now and — in true Neptune fashion — haven’t really been aware of it.

The energetic antithesis of Neptune is Saturn: the building-up of tangible structures and plans; the hard reality of life that we recognize as boundaries, rules and predictable patterns; the limits we accept because they are laws of physics or laws created by humans to ensure security, safety, certainty. Saturn is authority, hierarchy and leadership, even hegemony and control. Boundaries and expectations are clear, hard and non-negotiable.

Neptune is precisely — or, rather, imprecisely — the opposite. It’s that place in the mind, in the soul, where lines blur and boundaries dissolve and truth is relative. We’re not sure what’s real because everything seems real, and it seems possible to slip through the mists of time/space to the sands of some other place, to be transported on music or breath or lushness alone. The mind grows lax with the incomprehensibilty of the cosmos, and we hardly know where to start to accomplish what needs to be done. In fact, the to-do list itself seems elusive and uncertain. What is necessary? Why should I start now, when everything will shift tomorrow? Why don’t I just pick up this fantasy novel and…

Photo: Matt "Birdeye" Rogers

The next thing I know, sleep has descended and with it, dreams, and I really am in another time/space for a short period where the rules and realities seem as equally valid as the doubtful requirements of my waking life. Giant piles of laundry look like soft mountains to climb, and my father says something about rafting down a slow, sleepy river, and a flock of Canadian geese flies past, upside-down and speaking in British accents, and it all makes sense to me.

I know it won’t last forever, but Neptune transits aren’t quick — they meander like mountain streams in the summertime — and for my more goal-oriented mind, its energy seems life-sucking.

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What do we do when our charts (by which I mean our psyches) are visited by energies that are antithetical to our natures?

I mean really, what do we do?

Clients often come to me when they’re in a cycle like this — not necessarily a Neptune cycle but one that goes against their typical selves. They feel like they’ve been taken over by aliens, that their normal fire has been doused by a bucket of water, or their typical ability to go with the flow has been replaced by a restlessness and dissatisfaction that they can’t escape from.

The most important thing is to recognize what’s happening, acknowledge its difficulties and realize that it won’t last forever. Next it’s important to recognize the risks of the particular energy that’s visiting. For me, where I am today, Neptune’s confusion and doubt are the worst of it. A few years ago, this transit would have manifested for me more as an alcohol problem (in fact, did so). Still others may experience Neptune as a shady, manipulative character; as illusions and delusions; as discouragement, martyrdom, idealization.

Awareness of risks allows us to protect ourselves against them — or, on the other hand, to accept them as part of our current scenario. (I don’t recommend this for really destructive risks!) Then, you can start working with the positive sides of the archetype. I mean, Neptune sounds dreamy, really, doesn’t it? I’ve never been able to rest, veg out, do nothing or sit still. I wonder what will happen if I do that, for a change?

What, then, if I allowed myself to be receptive instead of trying to act upon the world all the time? What if I made space for something else to eke through the time/space continuum toward me? What if I could think secrets were sometimes okay, could accept that I don’t have to know everything right now?

What if I watched my mind/soul for the things it’s picking up on instead of always trying so hard to have something to say? Or if I paid more attention to beauty than productivity, allowed myself to perceive leaves and spirit and soup in different ways, let myself be transported by music more often?

How would I change? How would I come back to reality, when this cycle is over, a more complete, productive and helpful person?