Retrobabe: Saturn & Pluto

I love it when Bob Ross just THWACKED his brush. My grandmother, the very first persyn I remember putting medium in my hands to make, was an award winning painter. She taught herself from books and partially with  his instruction. After dipping a brush in citrus thinner, she did in fact beat the devil out of it. That’s exactly the type of satisfaction I’m getting out of Saturn in retrograde. For me, Saturn is a serious artist doing such a thwacking and I’m the brush. Soon, I’m going to be loaded up with pigment and wielded to create the most beautiful, technical, yet open expressions from the heart of the universe. Saturn turns your eyes toward that future, then asks for preparation in a way in which Time tested and of which you approved.

Everyone’s retrograde has persynal elements depending on chart and age. Beating out the thinner for me during this retrograde (AND the latter half of my Saturn Return) is examining little yet important, hygienic actions around wealth, business, and boundaries. There were ideas and practices incorporated as patches or to make myself look/feel better. And that is perfectly ok. These were effective methods during the time they were put in place. But everything changes and in moments like these, I’m grateful that I experienced and recovered from mental illness. When you’ve gone through a few massive cognition shifts to recover, you learn to be okay with letting go of behaviors that helped you get through difficult times. You learn that the judgements you have about yourself for engaging in those behaviors aren’t useful to your healing, but the behaviors themselves kept you alive to get the healing. You needed it. Yes. It’s ok. Especially if you’re black and queer and disabled.

Saturn retrograde is a time allotted for peeling off the gaff tape and making meaningful repairs.

Pluto retrograde is a time for me to see my shadow self have their moment. It can be tough to face the side of yourself you don’t like. It’s helping me to think of Aaahh!!! Real Monsters in this particular instance. Like clearly this little garbage goblin part of me has its own life, needs, and side adventures. Pluto retrograde says “Let’s follow this for a few episodes” so that your shadow self can be well fed enough to stay in the shadow. Shadow Commarrah wants invisibility. At her more extreme moments, she wanted for me to believe that my life had no impact at all, so I’m hesitant to let her out. She used to run the whole show 24/7. I remember learning that the worst damage you could do to most beings around you is insist that you have no effect on their existence. It was a serious Tower Card Moment™ in healing from my internalized devaluation in therapy. All this responsibility to connectedness through understanding my own worth became much more important to focus on than habitually punishing and erasing my existence. More important than using others as the cost payment for buying into the unreality that I could erase it in the first place. I’ll never forget the feeling of it— similar to maybe becoming a parent, but to myself.

However, words are only understood because of spaces. Music is only heard because of silence. Shadow Commarrah has to come out and play for Bright Commarrah to do the damn thing and now I’m just fine sharing focus. All Shadow Commarrah gon do is get out on stage, be weird because she never up there, and then walk off telling me to go back on. That’s all she do. All I do is take the opportunity to really live in the pleasure of being a proportionate amount of unseen and unnoticed. I’m not really good at that, so you know, it’s about as short as Shadow Commarrah’s time on stage. But that’s all it needs to be. A brief difference from the usual routine to create an adaptation and suddenly, you don’t have to fight yourself. Then when it comes to world phenomena forcing me into a narrative of invisibility--like white womxn buying my hair, my skin color, and my butt in a cycle to continuously turn a profit off the theft of my body--I have more strength when I bash back. Krushed in a wave of Karjenner and being smothered by racist ass insta algorithms, picking up the camera and showing up takes a lot more stamina than anyone who isn’t a black womxn could ever understand. And however long I fight this war, I won’t be wasting time battling myself.

This is the gift of Pluto retrograde.