Saturn Leaves Pisces for Aries (May 24, 2025)

When Intuition Trips You: Saturn Leaves Pisces for Aries

Saturn has been swimming through Pisces since March 2023, asking us to take responsibility for our dreams, our grief, and our gut feelings. And now, as it prepares to ignite Aries in 2025, it’s not just discipline that’s shifting—it’s direction.

This blog isn’t about astrological transits alone. It’s about how my intuition recently tripped me— and what I learned when I hit the ground.

The Renaissance I Didn’t See Coming

A few months ago, I felt a strong, soul-level pull to submit my name for a position that blended my two greatest loves: astrology and biofeedback.

The venue was beautiful. The people? Heart-centered. The mission? Aligned. My intuition rang loud and clear: Emily, this is a renaissance. Go.

I listened. I followed deliberately. The interview process was slow and thoughtful. It all felt intentional—at first.

Then came the onboarding. A new tone entered. When it came time to submit my paperwork, I realized there was no space to disclose my intellectual property.

I reached out to HR four times—no reply. I was passed off to someone who wasn’t even in HR, someone who didn’t understand how to process or respect my ownership.

Still, I asked more questions. I was told they would own any class I developed—but I wasn’t told what class that would be. I was given a rate of pay that didn’t match the original.

The deeper I looked, the more tangled it became. Eventually, it all unraveled. It wasn’t in alignment—for me or for them.

But the part that hurt the most? I had followed my intuition into this. I didn’t just want it. I knew it was right. Or so I thought.

Was My Intuition Wrong?

After everything collapsed, I sat in silence. Disappointed, heartbroken, confused. I asked myself the hardest question: Was my intuition wrong? Or worse—was I wrong to trust her?

Then I heard another whisper: Do you even know what happened during the Renaissance?

I didn’t. I just thought of art and beauty and flourishing. So I Googled.

And I found pain. I found manipulation. I found stories of artists who were patronized, yes—but also controlled. Their gifts were funded, but not freed.

One quote stopped me cold—Michelangelo, lamenting the toll of painting the Sistine Chapel:

“I’ve already grown a goiter from this torture,
hunched up here like a cat in Lombardy
(or anywhere else where the stagnant water’s poison).
My stomach’s squashed under my chin, my beard’s
pointing at heaven, my brain’s crushed in a casket,
my breast twists like a harpy’s. My brush,
above me all the time, dribbles paint
so my face makes a fine floor for droppings!
My haunches are grinding into my guts,
my poor ass strains to work as a counterweight,
every gesture I make is blind and aimless.
My skin hangs loose below me, my spine’s
all knotted from folding over itself.
I’m bent taut as a Syrian bow.
Because I’m stuck like this, my thoughts
are crazy, perfidious tripe:
anyone shoots badly through a crooked blowpipe.
My painting is dead.
Defend it for me, Giovanni, protect my honor.
I am not in the right place—I am not a painter.”

—Michelangelo Buonarroti, 1509
(AGNI Literary Magazine)

I remembered telling the highest-ranking person I interviewed with that my intuition called this a renaissance. And I meant it in the most beautiful way.

But now I see what my intuition was really saying.

Saturn, Pisces, and the Language of Spirit

Sometimes your intuition doesn’t speak in complete sentences. Sometimes she hands you a riddle, a symbol, a single word—just enough to get you moving.

“Renaissance,” she whispered. I thought she meant rebirth. But what she really gave me was a history lesson, a spiritual awakening, and a fire in my gut that said, Never again.

She tripped me, yes. But she also nudged me back. She sent me deeper, past the illusion, into the truth.

This is the gift of Saturn in Pisces: learning that intuition speaks in poetic code. You have to translate it. Research it. Live it. And sometimes, make a glorious mistake.

And now, as Saturn moves into Aries, I’m not bruised—I’m braver. Aries rules instinct, action, boundaries, and self-authority. The kind you earn by walking into the wrong room and realizing you’ll never shrink to fit a system again.

A New Way Forward

I don’t think jobs should give us purpose. I think we bring purpose with us, and if the container doesn’t honor it, we leave.

Final Truth

Listen closely to your intuition. Trust her, even when she trips you.
She may be sending you into the fire—not to burn you, but to reveal what you’ll never tolerate again.