That thrill you’re feeling—the surge of energy mixed with a bitter taste, as if you’ve just bitten off the head of your guilty conscience and nailed it to the nearest tree so it can’t haunt you anymore—that’s because of the square Mars in Sagittarius is making with Saturn at the very end of Pisces. You wouldn’t slow down now for anything in the world; you just want everything to get out of your way so you don’t have to brake, pause, wait. Impatience cranked to the maximum, while accidents, falls, incidents, breakages, traffic collisions, arrests, hospitals—they just keep piling up.

Saturn in Pisces, on the final degrees of the sign, has finally lost faith that we’ll voluntarily confess our sins and secrets, and that he’ll keep handing us stones to carry through life as reminders, blisters to keep us human. He heard that Mars in Sagittarius—full of strength, pride, ego, and speeding at full throttle—would pass this way this week, so he set a trap. And Mars has been evading him for so long, leaping obstacles, charging ahead, changing direction unpredictably, because Mars refuses to worry about the soul. Never. He’ll chop wood if needed and stack it neatly, he’d go to war for you, fix your roof, settle an old score with a distant cousin—but don’t ever ask him about the soul.

He’d rather live without one; it’s his greatest enemy, which is why he barely sleeps. In dreams, the soul watches him from the clouds with eyes like his mother’s, and he—a five-year-old boy—covers his face in shame because he ran and shattered her crystal vase. He hid the pieces and never knew if he even had the right to cry, deeply ashamed, so he decided to stay silent about it forever. That’s why dreams are the enemy. In them, the soul chases him with those crystal shards. He’s trained himself to control even his dreams, waking up every time before the crystal can touch him. He leaps out of bed, turns on the light, goes running at three in the morning, or fixes something that isn’t even broken, or sends messages—“Hey, what’s up?”—to anyone he knows will reply at three a.m. Anything, anyone, as long as he doesn’t have to be alone. Because what else would Mars in Sagittarius do but remain forever in flight from his own conscience, far enough away, always chasing, never stopping.

So Saturn, as if this were his last chance before leaving Pisces forever, decides to wait for him at the one place he must pass. Right at the exit of the sign, where there’s no turning off, no detour. And he raises a thick, heavy wall of fog, hiding inside it everything Mars in Sagittarius never wanted to see, let alone carry:

– the shame over parents he wanted to escape as far as possible—
– the shame he turned into contempt because it was easier than admitting he’d abandoned them
– the tears of all the women he showered with false promises and left waiting
– the loneliness of friends he ran farthest from whenever things got really hard for them
– the sadness of a son who watched him leave and never understood why
– the pained look of a daughter at every “not now,” “leave me alone,” “later” that never came
– the betrayals he hid behind excuses of “needing change,” which were knives in the backs of those who trusted him
– disappearing in the middle of the night
– lies about feelings
– promises he called “plans” but never intended to keep

…and into it he breathed the scent of that old room where the vase fell and shattered with a sound that never echoed again. Only fear lingered in the air, and the eternally frozen moment of a boy with eyes full of tears that stayed there forever, because he understood that some things can never be fixed or replaced.

And Mars in Sagittarius, galloping proudly on his horse, thinking how he could survive anything and that freedom is forever the most important thing, when—CRASH! As if someone had yanked the ground from under him. He lay there, stunned by pain, when he sensed someone nearby. A small silhouette knelt beside him. Face wet, voice trembling, the boy spoke as if pleading for his life: “But I’m not that bad…”

Mars looked at him and felt something worse than the physical pain already lodged in his bones. It was a massive tsunami crashing from within—a mix of hatred and love, rage and pity, and overwhelming disgust, because he hated him with every fiber. He hated him for being weak, for being scared, for staying to face punishment, for being guilty. He hated him for looking at him now with those warm eyes full of kindness, nothing like his own—long dried out by anger and lies. He hated him for forcing him to see that he’d left him completely alone, betrayed him, lied to him, done nothing but run from him. That because of him he’d had to become hard, strict, soulless, impervious to any vulnerability. He wanted to stand up and ride on before this little shadow destroyed his entire life, the whole world he’d built for himself—a world whose border was called “Do not come closer, do not touch!”

But the boy reached out his hand and revealed what had been hidden inside the vase “so no one would know,” what he’d wanted to throw away that cursed day. To get rid of it. To stop carrying the secret. But things went wrong… And then Mars screamed in agony. An arrow of guilt and conscience pierced him along his spine. Every bone, every muscle convulsed; he thought there was no escape from the flood of mercy he felt—for himself—for the first time ever. Through tears he whispered, “I’m not bad at all…” Broken by the fall and by a tenderness utterly foreign to him, he turned to look at him one more time—but he was gone.

The boy vanished like the shadow he’d been fleeing, and instead of the panic that would normally follow—Mars felt enormous relief that first confused him, then made him laugh out loud, freer than ever, when he understood why!

The boy wasn’t angry with him.
The boy hadn’t chased him to punish him.
The boy held no grudge for being left alone.

He had simply been waiting for him all along.

“Incredible,” he murmured, because in that moment he realised something Saturn at the end of Pisces had saved as his final, most precious gift.

When you truly forgive yourself—deep, real forgiveness that asks no one’s permission—suddenly it becomes completely unimportant what anyone else will say.

Will they love you?
Will they trust you again?
Will you matter to them?
Will they understand you?

Now that he loves himself—he no longer needs others to love him in his place. He no longer has to run around the world begging everyone he meets to tell him what he couldn’t tell himself.

He doesn’t have to flirt to hear “You’re the one!”
He doesn’t have to fight and insult others to hear “I forgive you!”
He doesn’t have to stay in flight to convince himself he’s free
He doesn’t have to look back to see if anyone’s waiting in order to prove his worth
He doesn’t have to chase titles and “big things” so he won’t remain “small”

Some will stay hurt, and some will forget him. And that’s all right. That’s their pain, which he no longer has to carry for them.
Because Saturn in Pisces never demanded that Mars become perfect in the eyes of the world. He only asked him to become honest with himself. To stop fearing the mirror. Then others cease to be judges of your worth. They become ordinary people with their own flaws, wounds, choices.

Just like you.

As Mars in Sagittarius vanished into the distance for the first time truly free, Saturn at the end of Pisces brushed the dust off himself and began preparing a new trap… soon Venus in Sagittarius will pass this way too. He put his hands on his hips and sighed deeply…