profection year reflections: pt 2

back in March, at the onset of my 12th house profection year with the sun/chart ruler AND timelord in the eighth, I shared with you some of my initial observations. (revisit that post here.) below are my latest reflections.

just before my birthday, I gifted myself a reading with Marcella Kroll, who told me that this year I was invited to renegotiate my contracts with my guides. that while I had signed up to be here at this time to do this work, I no longer had to abide by the previous rules. I was allowed to suit up, step up, and ask for things to move forward on my terms. somehow I sensed this would be true. it was time to meet my masters and strike a new deal.

I’m one quarter of the way into my current 12th house solar return, and at my yearly first quarter square. any profection year involves the themes of the house opposite, and Gemini is my 6th house, so there are many revelations coming to the surface these days. some of you know that my chart ruler, Saturn, sits in its joy in the 12th in Sagittarius, opposite my Chiron and Hygeia. as I sense old mental health narratives unravelling, in tandem with my recent ADHD diagnosis and the accompanying understanding of my sixth house time & routine woes, a singular theme seems to be ringing through. I have realized that my survival depends on my ability to determine what is worth it for me to be here.

and as I’ve considered the various conditions I have for participating on Earth, even simply allowing myself to create conditions for being here, I feel myself growing less hermit-like. I feel myself coming out of my 12th house stories of futility. I find myself feeling less responsible for the state of the world and more permitted to create a world I want to live in. and it somehow feels just the slightest bit freer. it allows me to be more present in the moment rather than anxious about what has not yet transpired. it allows me to just exist rather than attempt to solve. how much easier it is to know the self when you’re simply existing.

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diagnosis is a controversial and often abused and abusive process, and everyone should navigate it however feels best for them. for me, it was a huge lightbulb, and necessary in order for me to finally understand myself, to release myself from unhealthy and socially constructed and enforced expectations. it was the final straw that broke the bond to the capitalism camel’s back. I have always known that I needed to do things in my own way, at my own time, and my differences caused me to withdraw for most of my life. but my diagnosis has helped me accept that I’m allowed and designed to move at my own pace. that I understand and process information in my own way. and that people can see what they want to see when they look at me, but only I know what I want and am capable of in any given moment. for me, diagnosis was empowering.

I add the disclaimer that I get to work from home, and go to school from home, and live with a supportive partner who is navigating her own mental health journey and knows exactly how to meet me wherever I am. I recognize that diagnosis as empowerment is a privilege here, and I acknowledge that.

the true benefit of this revelation is that I now have such a deeper intuitive knowledge of the infinite branches of my anxiety. am I anxious because I don’t really want to do this task and I know it’s going to feel boring and require focused attention? or am I anxious because I’ve never done this before and I’m not sure what I’m doing and I might run into an obstacle I won’t know how to tackle?

the funniest revelation is the category of anxiety called “I simply don’t want to be bothered with this but I’m worried someone else cares and therefore I am creating paralyzing guilt.” understanding these different categories has made managing them so much easier. simply acknowledging that a task is going to be boring makes it easier for me to approach it. is that silly? maybe. but it surely is a timesaver and my feelings no longer have to fight me. together, we can accomplish infinitely more than we could when we were on opposite sides.

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it’s summer on my balcony, and many of my plants are thriving, which means I’m expecting all of them to thrive. I’m expecting my fig tree to thrive, and instead it’s losing its bottom leaves. I stick it with fertilizer, and it shoots out teeny tiny new growth. I’m expecting my fig tree to thrive, and I’ve left it with over a year’s worth of dirt layered thick on its waxy leaves, blocking its ability to photosynthesize. this afternoon, I spent some time with it, wiping it clean, apologizing for my negligence, as dirt dripped down into the soil below, completing the cycle and returning home. I hope to pay better attention moving forward. it helps to have Vesta, Venus, Mars, and Pluto in my sixth this solar return, making the mundane desirable.

I’ve been learning a lot about plant care, and I’ve only made space for it because I’ve allowed myself to slow down and understand. this past week, I learned how to separate bound roots, sitting patiently with my poor spider plants, breaking one free from its plastic pot. I’d never known that I could gently peel the layers back, that the soft white roots would happily oblige, that I could slice out the murky squishy ones.

a frustration is that, as I learn more about tending to my greenery, I recognize previous missteps and mistakes. a second fig tree’s leaves couldn’t be wiped clean because of a thick coating of neem oil leftover from a nasty bout of fall aphids. every lesson I clear seems to reveal another lesson I’ve yet to learn, another hill to climb. that I’m writing this in the hours of Saturn’s station retrograde are not lost on me.

having a thriving home garden, I know within myself, is something I consider to be worth it.