{"id":1106,"date":"2025-08-22T12:28:05","date_gmt":"2025-08-22T10:28:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/astroremix.rs\/en\/?p=1106"},"modified":"2025-09-08T01:29:48","modified_gmt":"2025-09-07T23:29:48","slug":"quo-vadis","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/astroremix.rs\/en\/quo-vadis\/","title":{"rendered":"Quo Vadis?"},"content":{"rendered":"
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The plane was late. And from the perspective of those who travel, being late is just another word for waiting. Everything important in life arrives, but only if you wait. If you\u2019re in a hurry and refuse to wait, if you rush to \u201cnot waste time,\u201d you chase. You chase\u2026 and you never quite arrive. For a long time, I was a chaser. It felt like if I stopped, everything would grind to a halt. I moved through life with quick steps, lightly leaping over obstacles like hurdles on a track. I bruised my ankles and feet\u2014my weak spots, like a horse\u2019s, born under the Sagg’s star. I made missteps, like an athlete on a course, starting too soon, falling out of rhythm, circling back, catching up to myself, only to leave myself behind again.<\/p>\n

Sagittarius is the journey. All the wide streets that spill onto highways. My first stop was near highway. Then Konjarnik, where the Eastern Gates stand like sentinels at the city\u2019s edge. Ko\u0161utnjak followed, with its running trails and hippodrome. But always near the city\u2019s entrances and exits and highway, as if I\u2019d never truly arrived to stay. Just like all of us in this world, in this life. We\u2019re all passing through. Why does Sagittarius think of this daily? It must tie to the Scorpion that comes before. Just as crime, corruption, and violence spark the need for Jupiter\u2019s justice and laws, the Scorpion\u2019s shadow of death seems to chase the Sagg, urging him to seek answers. Where are we going? Quo vadis?<\/p>\n

And so we sought out religions, philosophies, and countless teachings. Billions of books were written, all in an attempt to soothe the Scorpion\u2019s restless anxiety. But the Capricorn, who follows Sagittarius, warns that we were perhaps too hopeful. \u201cIt\u2019s all well and good,\u201d<\/em> Capricorn says, \u201cbut it\u2019s not quite as you think. Because, you see, even that journey\u2014it leads you back.\u201d<\/em> \u201cBack to being born again?\u201d \u201cNo, no\u2026 nothing so intricate. Back to nature\u2014back to the trees, the stars, the earth, the water\u2026\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

I moved as if I were fleeing, switching places to cover my tracks. Patience for waiting? I never had it. By the time I reached my fortieth year, if you gathered all my waiting and zipped it into a single file, it would amount to roughly five months and twenty-three days. And that was mostly me, lovesick, waiting for the postman for love letters. It was also waiting for phone calls, especially those I hoped for in quiet dread, praying someone would pick up and say, \u201cEverything\u2019s fine.\u201d That was before smartphones. Smartphones killed that tradition. Now everything\u2019s instant, everyone\u2019s online. There\u2019s no one left to wait for. We see it all, know it all, and our rational minds kick in, algorithms charting the next route based on the data we\u2019ve got. How many people would\u2019ve called each other a hundred times by now if they hadn\u2019t seen who was online or what they\u2019d liked? That\u2019s why we don\u2019t even realize we\u2019re lost\u2014because it doesn\u2019t feel like we are.<\/p>\n

Waiting, though, is the complete absence of knowing what lies ahead.<\/em><\/p>\n

Waiting is doing something else, then a third thing, while you bide your time. That\u2019s usually when some love, some skill, some passion takes root. Music, painting, photography, writing, astrology, cooking\u2014whatever it may be. Only in waiting do we stumble upon all sorts of discoveries.<\/p>\n

Waiting isn\u2019t Saturn; it\u2019s Neptune. <\/strong><\/p>\n

Saturn is how the one who waits appears to us\u2014rigid, enduring. But how it feels to them? That\u2019s Neptune\u2014fluid, dreamy, boundless.<\/p>\n

Not everyone will fully grasp Neptune, that deep, demanding, metaphysically heavy force. But in the beginning, we all wait there. At first, we wait and we dream, we fantasize. Later, as the waiting stretches on, we teeter\u2014halfway to madness, halfway to faith. At some point, it splits, as Neptune always does, like a river delta fanning out. We either lean a little more into madness or a little more into belief. When we think, \u201cAha, a revelation!\u201d<\/em> or \u201cThere\u2019s the sign!\u201d<\/em> it often leads us back to solitude and a gentle kind of madness, though we don\u2019t realize it right away. If we lose ourselves too much, the Sun, Mars, or Saturn\u2014those sharp, grounding forces\u2014step in to jolt us back. Like a parent snapping a child out of a video game addiction with a stern tone or a harsh consequence, or like a crisis that yanks us from dreams and fantasies into reality.<\/p>\n

And if we lean more into belief, we don\u2019t need external connections. We lose that tether, slipping through life quietly, letting things stick to us like stray bits of lint, brushing off the excess like fallen leaves from our shoes. We stop reading altogether. We listen only to what clings to us, selective and instinctive. With Neptune, we don\u2019t go searching for our true self\u2014we might only stumble upon it by chance. The same goes for a friend, a partner, or a fleeting opportunity. No goals, no ladders to climb, just an inner compass guiding us.<\/p>\n

Then, at some point, you completely lose sight of what you were waiting for. You can\u2019t recall. Nothing feels like a vision anymore. What you once saw as signs no longer holds meaning. What seemed like a dream? It was just a dream after all. The excitement sinks, and that\u2019s why it\u2019s not for everyone. Many reach this point but, to avoid slipping into despair, they pull themselves out with stimulation\u2014a counterfeit life, an alter ego. And yet, that\u2019s still a kind of life. Ask the Pink Panthers<\/a> what they think, or those sitting in stolen leadership roles today, flashing fake titles and diplomas.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not easy, I tell you, to live Neptune\u2019s path to the end. Yet it\u2019s necessary if we want to save ourselves\u2026 from ourselves. The other way\u2014the way the world lives today\u2014can be summed up in one word: plastic. Synthetic. Fake. A whole life becomes a lie. That\u2019s when people start out well but get stuck, trapped in that artificial sheen. And yet, I\u2019ll say it again: that\u2019s always been the easier route, even if it\u2019s toxic.<\/p>\n

But when we surrender fully to Neptune, we go all the way, no matter what\u2019s in our chart. No one who takes this path turns back. Here, you meet what has found you and give yourself to it completely. You become a mystic, a wanderer, nameless, a secret, a wonder. It\u2019s not about having Pisces in your chart, or Neptune rising, or Venus dancing with Neptune in some aspect. Take Vlado Georgiev<\/a>, for instance, with his exact Venus-Neptune opposition. He\u2019s glimpsed truths about love and lies that many with this aspect will never touch. Through his songs, he\u2019s explained that aspect better than some astrology books ever could. It\u2019s not enough to just have the aspect. Millions with Venus-Neptune will live without ever willingly letting themselves be poisoned, lied to, deceived, or seduced\u2014all the things Vlado sings of while he\u2019s caught in the haze, enchanting his listeners, casting spells that make them feel it all in an instant: lovesick, lonely, remembering someone they\u2019d never otherwise recall.<\/p>\n

We all have Neptune in our charts, no question. But to reach Neptune, you must navigate a labyrinth where our ancestors buried countless secrets. The schizophrenia of a grandfather who ended up hanging himself. Grandmothers who, in hushed village corners, brought about miscarriages. Decades of political imprisonment for ancestors who were neither guilty nor indebted. Covered-up murders ordered by secret services, stolen children, planted lies that sparked further tragedies\u2014like in that heartrending, brilliant film Atonement. All the truly doomed loves, misery and betrayals.<\/p>\n

Because Neptune is SIN.
\nYes.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not reiki, not manifestation, not spiritual teachings or conspiracy theories, not tapping rituals or the magic of universal numbers some chant to ward off bad vibes. Or maybe it is all those things\u2014until, sooner or later, we abandon them. We snap out of it, like when the neighbor\u2019s chandelier crashes to the floor above us, the jolt shaking us awake. Neptune is simply our capacity to believe in everything\u2014absolutely everything. It doesn\u2019t declare, \u201cThis is the truth.\u201d It doesn\u2019t say, \u201cHere\u2019s your soulmate\u201d (though we\u2019d love it to). It\u2019s just our power to believe in it all. That\u2019s why we keep inventing something new. Because we never quite proved the last thing either.<\/p>\n

We inherit Neptune as living witnesses to those sins. It\u2019s as if only by pausing, by embracing an Odyssean<\/a> absence from life, we save ourselves from ourselves. Yet in our younger years, that other path often lures us into deception, lies, promiscuity, or vice. A nightmare of illusions, false hopes, and romantic disillusionments. We dive headlong into excessive devotion\u2014whether to a church, veganism, or some rigid way of life\u2014because, beyond being sin, Neptune is about devotion. Total, all-consuming surrender. Giving yourself over completely. So we sin first, whether we\u2019ve thrown ourselves fully into meditation, God, or alcohol.<\/p>\n

We learn to yield to vices, to all those things that will betray us ten times over, disappoint us, shatter our trust in a painful convulsion as we crisis-crave peace. We rush to escape into something new, anything to flee from ourselves, to dedicate ourselves to a fresh lie. We chase the pain of betrayal, abandonment, oblivion\u2014forgetting that, from the start, we\u2019ve been accomplices. Then, around forty, when Neptune forms a square with its natal position, it asks us again:<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

QUO VADIS?<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u2026where are you going?<\/em> Another chance. But by then, we\u2019re older. We don\u2019t drink like we used to. We don\u2019t hope like we used to. Even those honeyed illusions have abandoned us. So, without excitement, in a strange absence from our own life\u2014where nothing you\u2019re living feels like it belongs to you\u2014you pause. You don\u2019t run, you don\u2019t conjure illusions. That absence wipes the traces of sin from your psyche, reminding you of peace. You wait, not expecting anything, not knowing who you are or what you\u2019ll become. You just\u2026 wait. And that\u2019s when I stopped. I stopped chasing. When you do that, something always happens\u2014something necessary to disconnect you, to start saving you\u2026 from yourself. For me, it was my child.<\/p>\n

But if we keep going down the old path, we stumble into humiliations, the turned backs of those who were friends just yesterday. We end up alone, with no one to even greet. Or we\u2019re surrounded by people, but only false faces. Or, at the end of our vices\u2014drugs, pills, alcohol\u2014depression waits, born of unspent love. Love that was never given, never shared. And so come the stents, those tiny mesh tubes that prop open blood vessels, offering the heart one more chance to breathe.<\/p>\n

Neptune is the secret we must uncover for ourselves\u2014that we are worthy of love. That we can be loved. That we can give love uncontrollably, without restraint. We\u2019ve all felt that sharp pang slicing through our ribs when we\u2019re happy, as if something cracked open and spilled inside us, burning because we\u2019re breathing deeper, as if wings have sprouted where our lungs once were. In that moment, you can even let go of the cigarettes\u2014not out of fear of illness or age, but because we no longer need stoppers to hold back our love.<\/p>\n

And so, when we\u2019re sad and tears come, we\u2019re always crying for ourselves. When we want to forgive someone, we\u2019re forgiving those parts of ourselves we see in them, but first, we recognize them as us. When we feel someone\u2019s absence, it\u2019s ourselves we miss\u2014the whole life we haven\u2019t lived, everything that didn\u2019t happen and, truthfully, couldn\u2019t have. Because if it had, trust me, we\u2019d find something else to call impossible, something else to tie us to the eternal, the forever mystical, the unknown, the anonymous, the forgotten, the depth as vast as the secret itself.<\/p>\n

There you have it.
\nI\u2019ve laid it all bare, but it won\u2019t save you.<\/p>\n

You have to save yourself from yourself. From the vile characters we tried so hard not to resemble, only to realize that in rejecting them, we rejected love too, and ended up doing the very same things they did.<\/p>\n

Because Neptune is sin\u2014until it becomes love.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

And to close, Gibonni<\/a>, because in this song, Neptune\u2019s trident pierces every line.
\nThose who\u2019ve felt it, know.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n