NEPTUNE IN ARIES: ON THE SEVERANCE AND FORGING OF VISIONS
Neptune entered Aries on January 26th, searing the seal on the start of its 12 year transit through the sign of the ram. We had a preview of Neptune in Aries last year from March 30th - October 22. This pilot episode introduced the characters and setting but barely teased the plotline. Now, a few minutes into episode two, we might find Neptune’s fiery awakening a bit more crass than the initial spark of flint.
Some background notes on the outers and Neptune
The outer planets (Uranus, Neptune & Pluto) characteristically do not affect our personal lives with the same blunt capacity that the seven traditional planets deliver. Rather, the outers move like larger collective currents, shifting our worlds akin to the way we are shaped by evolving culture; we might even say they are reflections of one another - the outer planets and the culture that is.
Neptune, of the three outers, is probably the most culturally shaping and attuning. Neptune is generally nonverbal - delivering itself in images, ambiance, feelings. Neptune paints and entices, draws near and around, styles and seduces, visualizes and proliferates, forms and pedestals behaviors, morals, characters, colors and designs - anything it chooses to fancy - in waves. Like an incoming tide, Neptune’s way is to subtly smoothly emphasize and then suddenly consume. Its power is not just to imagine, but to attract and inspire our affinity for that which its eye beholds. And Neptune is decidedly idealistic - until it’s not.
While in any sign, Neptune will fashion a fascinating dream. It will tantalize and tempt until we are treading helplessly in its manic water world. So, Neptune’s movements are helpful for understanding the ocean in which we swim. When Neptune ingresses into a new sign, we begin an obvious new cultural phase.
It’s helpful to look back at the arc of Neptune’s passage through Pisces to understand this planet’s special ability.
Neptune in Pisces was woo-coded.
We followed the rise and eventual plateau of witchism. The proliferation of everyone made-their-own tarot deck, yielding many gorgeous (and some quite-lacking) iterations of a centuries-old augury. The wild popularization of astrology, numerology, human design and any other new/old age psycho-spiritual divination system; the professionalization of these paths and from the vestiges of the divinatory sea, the rise of fortune-teller fakes, impersonators and scammers.
Under Neptune in Pisces, we witnessed the clear spreading pool of eastern philosophies permeated the western and waking mind - Yoga, Buddhism, Tantra, Non-dualism to name a few - until we were drowning in both legitimately wise and sickeningly appropriated teachings. And finally, as Neptune waded through the last decan of Pisces, a clear distillation of compassion activism and neighborly togetherness pushed against the fierce currents of racism and supremacy ever-present in the modern colonial world. Yes, Neptune in Pisces was sometimes nightmarishly woke-woo but it was nothing if not magic on crack.
Neptune’s bold dive
So what is the culture of Neptune in Aries? To start, it is divergence from togetherness.
Neptune in Aries is a current of blinding courage, burning desires, and main character energy.
It is scorched style. Ungovernable marching boots. Anarchy en vogue. It is a phoenix finding identity in crisis. Rebellion rising. Rage a cause worth defending in the sudden absence of hope.
As the exaltation of the Sun, Aries is a visionary place. It is a match that blazes a markedly singed trail. An avant-garde author and an architect of arduous plans. However manic, Neptune in Aries will be mad for adventure. This transit will prime us to be pioneers and will prove time and again that pioneering isn’t an easy affair. Freedom seldom turns out to be as breezy and beautiful as our rose-colored daydreams. But Neptune in Aries is undeterred, preferring to pedestal challenge and dazzle us with fanaticism for triumphed feats. Neptune in Aries counts on the notion that the more harsh and heated the game, the harder we’ll play.
Be ware not of false idols, but furious ones.
Neptune in Aries will have an effect that conspires eagerness to prove ourselves. A real life gladiator ring of rugged and rampant individualism; the louder the crowd, the more they jump the barrier to join the feral fight before it devolves to chaos. In other words, Neptune in Aries calls forth our feistiness and verve. Think a militia of Pipi Longstockings on steroids. A degree of naivety which conveys little regard for the other and lots for a good crusade.
As adventurous as Aries is, it is not exactly a friendly place. Certainly, parts of Aries are kinder and more pleasure-dominant than others - namely the last decan which will surely be a welcoming terrain after so many years of Neptune making its way through the first 20 degrees. All that said, it is helpful to get a sense of the part of Aries that Neptune just dipped into, at least up to the ankle…
the decans in over/review
I’ve been talking to you about the decans for a moment now - these 36 subsections of the zodiac that together form onelayer of potential bonification in the schema of planetary dignity and debility. This means that decans provide planets with special powers, in a similar way that a planet is supported in certain zodiac signs (domicile & exaltation). But the decans are special because they represent more than just dignity.
In the introductory chapters of Austin Coppock’s renowned text on the decans, 36 Faces, he makes it strikingly clear that the decans historically have a particular connection to magic that transcends the fundamental purpose of dignity and debility. He further explains that the specific magical capacity of the decans functions through the vehicle of images. True to form, another term for decans is faces. The face of something is an explicitly visual element.
While other components of dignity (such as the bounds or planetary joys) are limited to technical pluses and minuses to planets, the decans are most like the zodiac signs themselves in that each carries a visually rich rendering of a part of the zodiac and with it, fertilizer for stories*.* The decans thus surpass simple planetary dignity by offering visual references that become channels through which specific powers can be illuminated and made manifest. They also are accessible to the masses beyond astrological professionalisms precisely because they are a visual conveyance more than just a technical one. One need not have a level of astrological mastery to engage a picture. Like reading a children’s book, the decans require only our intrigue and a bit of imagination.
Since each decan occupies exactly 10° of the 30° in a zodiac sign, when a planet enters a new sign, it also enters a new decan. Therefore, the decans are a useful place to look around any planetary ingress for more pointed information on how that planet’s entrance and early transit through the sign might be experienced.
Back to Neptune who, to reiterate, describes the cultural ocean we swim in.
Here’s an overview of the dates of Neptune’s passage through the Aries decans:
Aries Decan I
March 30 - Oct 22 2025
Jan 26 2026 - May 8 2029
Sept 22 2029 - March 9 2030
Aries Decan II
May 8-Sept 22 2029
March 9 2030 - July 2 2033
Aug 13 2033 - April 15 2034
Aries Decan III
July 2 - August 13 2033
April 15 2034 - May 22 2038
Oct 21 2038 - March 23 2039
As you can see, Neptune will spend years in each of these places so while this transit might be less acutely and personally impactful, it is worth our time to tease out the distinctions between them. For today, I’ll focus primarily on Aries Decan I. If you have planets or points in the first degrees of Aries in your natal chart, this should be extra poignant for you.
Aries Decan I is, by all intents and purposes, a fairly gruesome decan. Defined by cardinality and fire, it is also the first of the entire decans scheme. While the number one is often a symbol of unity, it is exactly its antithesis which we find here.
Coppock gives the image of the axe to this decan, noting that aside from the historical plethora of horror we conjure with the image of an axe, its primary function is to split in two. To create severance. So, in this decan we find not just the individualism of Aries but the painful process of individuation. Child from mother. Baby bird from nest. A marriage divorced. A bloom cut from the stem.
Not all of this is necessarily bad. As Coppock points out, the trunk of a tree split by an axe creates valuable goods for a winter fire or lumber for shelter. But we are not yet at the building stage. We are in the tearing down. The blast apart. The feverish raze. We will have to wait, as one does after a forest fire, for new growth to come in. And still, we must acknowledge that this space of separation is productive. It clears the path to new life.
Fire is a form of purification. It is one natural way the earth cleanses and renews herself.
“Therefore it is said, that in the first face of Aries, ascendeth the image of a black man, standing and cloathed in a white garment, girdled about, of a great body, with reddish eyes, and great strength, and like one that is angry; and this image signifieth and causeth boldness, fortitude, loftiness and shamelesness;”
-Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa von Nettesheim. Three Books of Occult Philosophy. Originally published 1533. Translated by Eric Purdue, Inner Traditions, 2021
This description by 16th century philosopher Agrippa is fairly consistent with other texts in the history of the decans. We might begin by examining the colors mentioned. It is worth noting that much of what we know about the decans was written long ago and has seen centuries of socio-political evolutions of racism since their inception. Thus we must look at the description outside the context of modern day racism. The dark man referenced in the white garment could speak to a person grappling with the shadows of their humanity, and reckoning (or raging) with the dualities within. The white robe might be considered a symbol of purification or power as white is often connected to the luminaries and therefore to divinity and cleansing.
Note also that while the person described is attributed anger, they are not made out to be evil. Rather their “great body” and “great strength” gives way to “boldness, fortitude, loftiness and shamelessness.” These are simply qualities of the powerful and often triumphant.
Still, this is a Mars decan and violence will therefore be present. The eyes drenched in crimson remind us that to live is to suffer. It is a great agony we all experience to be birthed and severed at the umbilical. Life implies pain as much as joy. Life invokes vulnerability as well as grit and survival instinct.
Red eyes happen when we cry; wailing the devastation of slaughtered hopes. In Aries I, the blanket of anger may be thrown aside to meet distressing wounds underneath. Red eyes are therefore not just a symbol of anger but of our hurt and humanity. Once we have released raw emotion through a good cry, we often experience the life force begin to return and course through our veins.
Furthermore, rage is also an expression of confusion. The separated forces inherent to Aries I experience the shock of reckoning. They need not necessarily be in opposition but in the process of splitting they find themselves for the first time in a position to confront one another, or to confront the ache of rupture itself.
Consider a couple united in life - they will naturally meet conflict along the way, even if it is not their baseline state. It can be confusing for a body which knows primarily cohesion to experience division. There is a sensation that “we are not supposed to feel this way” in a partnership or relation. Of course we know in reality it would be unnatural to never have disagreement. Still, the resulting manifestation in the body is dissonance in extremes, envenoming the carriers with blinding temper which furthers the process of tearing at the seams of current reality.
The red eyes referenced are thus a result of confrontation within and without. It is looking at the world around us and finally perceiving all the systems that gave way to this moment. All the forces at play with unfair rules and absurd game. To witness is enough to make one crazed. Soaked in this ocean of violence, survival instinct begins to kick in. And with it, sensations of guilt, questioning one’s moral compass, sometimes even tossing it entirely aside in frustration.
This is not an inherently good or bad thing - it simply is.
In this space, the rules of the world are torn apart and remade subjectively. For if the laurels on which society rests do not support the individuals within it, the individuals will set off a course of severance from the systems and principles which are in theory, supposed to support them.
They will exercise their right to overthrow abuse in the name of self-sovereignty. And thus, anarchy is born. The individuals become self-governing and world-creating. Tyranny may be rampant now but its leaders will be short-lived. When the majority of individuals refuse a primary power, that power ruptures. And then someone else will surely step in to try to grasp it. It slips through their fist and the vicious cycle continues for a time.
Let us return to the axe for a moment though. This is not a serrated blade. There is no slow grinding giving way to a soft piece of toast or even a tough piece of meat. The sharp edge of the axe makes things clean and swift.
The last decan of Pisces may have detached with love but Aries I will detach with an axe. So as both Neptune and soon Saturn (on February 13th) enter this first chamber of Aries, the break-up stops drawing itself out. The divide becomes abrupt - in some ways more clearly finished, in others blurred by the surge of reckoning’s fury.
On the macro-level the rampage is certainly deserved. And yet, in our personal situationships we would do well to remember that resentment is a poison we wish upon another but suffer ourselves. Let any severance you pursue be a decision made not out of spite but for the sake of survival.
And it is here that we arrive at the cultural peak of Aries Decan I:
The crimson eyes, white cloak and brute strength of the figure describes the purity of our will to survive, triumph and thrive.
Neptune in Aries thus may be a time of “do what you have to do.” Its modus operandi knows little of slowing down or appreciating the good things in life. No, this energy is much more savage. Its teeth tear flesh from bone, relishing not the flavor of the meal but the act of self-sustenance.
Anger and ambition are the diet of Aries I.
Planets in Aries Decan I thrive in the abyss; their will springing up from the alchemy of despair and hope distilled at the end of the zodiac. Their passage through this place inspires the chaos of simultaneous disintegration and inception. It is here where they train their militias for the intense battle ahead. Neptune’s time in Aries I will likely be a stampede driven around purpose and zeal. It will have us pursuing challenging, perhaps even impossible goals for pure sake of accomplishment. Competition becomes a prominent motivating force. This is less about vengeance and more about vigor.
It is a time to let yourself come alive with the quality of motivation itself. When Saturn enters Aries and joins Neptune mid-month, it is a good moment to solidify your visions surrounding the subject of the house in your chart which contains Aries.
While Saturn’s presence can and will create barriers, it will also provide real structure and a sense of responsibility to one’s ambitions. It will be be inarguably hard but it will not be dull. The manifestation will ultimately be slower than we’d like and faster than we can realistically manage.
Saturn is the most solid of the planets and Neptune the most fantastical. Seemingly opposing forces, Saturn and Neptune can either make one another’s work obsolete or render it freakishly inexorable. I believe that fate has a hand in the decision of which events do come to pass.
My work today is primarily about using astrology to ascertain what plans fate has for us so that we can lean into and effectuate them as completely and enthusiastically as possible. This makes life feel divinely connected, guided and supported while retaining a sense of agency and cultivating the satisfaction of self-accomplishment. Admittedly, this practice has a lot to do with the entire overhaul of my life in the last six months. I’ve been looking at what is written in my chart with some degree of fear but without shrinking from it. However heart-rending and demanding the plan, it is also a source of pure inspiration and glorious purpose. But once you find purpose, it can actually be extremely difficult to pursue. Procrastination, avoidance, and doubt become contagious.
It’s at this point that I often call to mind the work of one of my favorite scholars and activists, Joanna Macy. In her book Active Hope, Joanna instructs on tools for staying engaged in work that helps mitigate the destruction of our livable climate and habitat. Most of her life was dedicated to helping people stay with the trouble because the weight of climate change often imbues activists with a freeze state.
Early on in the book Joanna explains that when we feel thwarted or stuck, it is useful to consider the arc of the heroes journey and to center ourselves in our own lives as the hero. We know from studying lore that heroes cannot triumph without challenge. Heroism actually implies it.
There is always at least one (if not many) moments of despair when we are on a quest for something of great importance. The pit of despair is a part of the story arc that the hero must take upon themselves to climb out of. They must cross the bridge, jump the hedge, fight the demon, escape the prison. They must summon the will to go on because if they give up, they will not reach the end of their story. And so they find a way to do the next right thing.
Courage collected and surrendered upon the altar through action is the energy of Aries.
Will, feistiness and determination to succeed make Aries a powerfully resourcing place when all feels lost. Of course this is easier in theory than practice. But practice we must. As Neptune and Saturn make their way through the beginning of Aries, I want you to remember that courage requires vulnerability, perhaps even hardship.
Neptune’s job is essentially to fantasize and in Aries it can idealize adventure. But these trials are generally much more gruesome than the stories we collectively paint on social media. Jason and the Argonauts (the supposed heroes of the ancient Greek myth surrounding the sign of Aries) certainly had their share of nightmarish maladies, seduction by sirens and tempting by all manner of grim obstacles.
On a more contemporary note, my recent personal adventure was less quest and more questionable at the beginning of 2026. I arrived in France and was soberingly sick for over a week, an initiation which delivered a culture shock I’ve never before experienced in this country where I’ve spent collectively over a year of my life. That first week in bed felt like an eternity as I hacked up most of the confidence I’d stored away for the process of self-exile, fought off a high fever of self-doubt and and reeled with the nausea of survivor’s guilt while watching protest scenes all over the States unfold from the safety of my disgusting bed and affordable socialist healthcare.
I struggled to breathe, my lungs clogged with the virus as much as the grief of homesickness for my friends, worry for my people and ache for the familiar waft of bay laurel. I admittedly still miss California and am sifting through the waves of what it means to have left the United States at this particular moment but the return to my body’s natural currents (and a bit of human to human contact) has also meant I can hear the clear resounding verse of this is where I am supposed to be right now.
I’m sharing this personal anecdote with you because it’s important that I paint a clear picture when I talk about gleaning fate from your chart. Do not expect that playing the cards fate hands to you is easy. It can be fulfilling and invigorating, frightfully satisfying and also terrifying at times. Playing along with fate means embracing deeper lows and soaring to higher heights all while intentionally trying to walk your personal fine line of stasis. It is a delicate art and it is much better not to do it alone.
As an astrologer, it’s difficult sometimes to observe the storylines play out in our lives and stay balanced in the inventorying of our own particular destiny. It’s the curse of knowing how and what but not always being able to do something for yourself. We as much as anyone can go through phases where we are prone to catastrophizing our transits and it’s good to have a team of trusted colleagues to set things straight.
It is much much easier to delineate a fate for someone who isn’t living your life because the follow through isn’t on you. That said, I’m grateful for the friends and colleagues who continue to help me get right-sized in the wake of the big and critical and in hindsight, clearly right decisions.
The attuned choices are often the ones that most naturally give way to uncertainty, just like clear distillations found in the last decan of Pisces give way to Aries I chaos. I am thankful to Kira and Sam and many others who point out time and again the things I know, but of which I need to be reminded, even if that is simply whatever the Moon is doing on any given day to create a slightly scarier or lazier or overly excitable experience of the world. This too is why people come to see me.
If you’d like to talk about your impending (or perhaps already fully in swing) Aries I adventures, stories of severance, and the forging of hope within furor, my February books are open. Bring me your rage and your reckonings, your hunger for triumph and your thirst for audacity. I’m here for it.