Solastalgia tells the story grieving the loss of homeland. When we lose our knowledge and memories of the land, the stars, the herbs, and the rivers, we also lose the home where we belong. If we can return to the soil of memory, may everything grow anew?

Solastalgia tells the story grieving the loss of homeland. When we lose our knowledge and memories of the land, the stars, the herbs, and the rivers, we also lose the home where we belong. If we can return to the soil of memory, may everything grow anew?
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When I first discovered my connection with Aquarian energy, I thought it meant I should pursue the most "innovative" technologies. I remember feeling ashamed earlier this year for not understanding modeling and 3D technology. Determined, I pushed myself to learn, even purchasing a high-end computer for the task. However, I soon realized that I could not resonate with the illusions these technologies created—an imagined world rather than a perceived one.
In the latter half of the year, my studies in ethnobotany and astrology drew me toward indigenous worldviews. Unexpectedly, I found a connection between Aquarius and ancient wisdom/memory. This led me to reflect on Pluto's entrance into Aquarius and the layers of meaning that remain to be unearthed.
Aquarius is ruled by both Uranus and Saturn. Before writing this, I had simplistically viewed them as binary opposites—Uranus representing revolution, innovation, and upheaval, while Saturn symbolized rules, tradition, and authority. As an Aquarian dedicated to social change, I had always aligned myself with Uranian energy, regarding Saturn as an adversary. Yet, through this research and writing process, I began to realize my misunderstanding of these two celestial bodies. This article aims to provide a more nuanced vision of Aquarius.
Saturn governs the skin and bones—the structures that shape our bodies. Our bodies are the medium that builds, contains, divides, and connects us to the Earth. Without the framework provided by our bodies, we cannot perceive or act. Saturn grants us a container, defining our form and boundaries, allowing us to experience both the world and others.
Our bodies follow natural rhythms—they grow, decay, and eventually return to the earth. This reveals the essence of Saturn: a deep respect for natural order. To survive and dwell upon the land, we must understand and honor the cyclical rhythms of nature—the ebb and flow of tides, the dance of rivers and planets.


Saturn urges us to respect the inherent order of all things rather than forcibly intervene.
As the planet of time, Saturn imprints its domain with memory and forgetting. In The Rings of Saturn, W.G. Sebald recounts a journey through memory while bedridden, traversing ancient English estates, abandoned islands, and the ruins of civilizations. He weaves personal recollections with collective memory, crafting a vast museum where seemingly unrelated knowledge intertwines.

Saturn, like Jupiter, represents the transition from the personal to the collective. As the farthest planet visible to the naked eye, it governs Aquarius with the lesson of confronting history's shadows, the fractures of time, and the violence of boundaries.
"In Sebald’s work, history is a taboo (Saturn), difficult to approach directly, accessible only through infinite delay and detour."
—Single Reading review of The Rings of Saturn
In 1656, British traveler John Tradescant Jr. ventured into Southeast Asia and discovered the gutta-percha tree. Observing indigenous peoples' use of rubber, he brought samples back, leading merchants to envision its economic potential. Soon, rubber became indispensable for manufacturing tires, submarine cables, and essential infrastructure.
Yet, these merchants only saw how plants and land could be exploited for imagined prosperity, ignoring how this wealth was built upon the destruction of indigenous knowledge and emotional connections with the land. This prosperity was merely an illusion, masking deeper forms of scarcity.
This trade also relied on a massive influx of foreign labor. Beyond transatlantic slave ships carrying Caribbean peoples, European governments enacted the "Chinese Labour Ordinance" in 1899, drawing migrants from coastal Cantonese regions to British colonies in Southeast Asia. Seeking a better life, they instead found themselves trapped in indentured servitude—plantation laborers reduced to "coolies."

This journey of discovery and expansion was fueled by the erasure of others’ beliefs, knowledge, and bodily autonomy. If we analyze Jupiter’s archetypes—the explorer, scientist, and merchant—we see how their thirst for expansion often created long-lasting colonial violence. Their desires seized lands, displaced people, and forced labor upon the subjugated.

This history is not confined to the past. Are our modern industries, consumption habits, and tourism still based on ecological exploitation and human oppression, hidden beneath the facade of "commerce" and "prosperity"? Pluto in Aquarius compels us to confront the hidden depths of these realities—any development that ignores Saturn’s natural laws will ultimately face karmic consequences.
Saturn is not merely about oppression but about reverence for limits. Without limits, form cannot emerge, and life cannot be sustained. Saturn reminds us that all creation must respect natural boundaries and that every timeline is steeped in historical weight. In Aquarius, Saturn plays the role of "collective memory," ensuring that innovation does not become disconnection, and that progress stands upon a stable foundation.
Public interest and truth are not always aligned. Truth is not necessarily a prerequisite for societal organization. As Pluto enters Aquarius, this planet of destruction arrives with the intent to dismantle existing social structures—forcing us to confront the violence and trauma left behind in the name of "civilization." Through remembrance and stillness, Pluto catalyzes transformation.
Uranus is linked to the idea of "beginnings." It exists in the space between sky and earth, between perception and wisdom. As the first planet discovered by telescope, Uranus represents technological mediation—techne, the force that brings the unseen into manifestation.
In The Art of Stealing Fire, Liz Greene associates Uranus with Prometheus, who stole fire for humanity, introducing architecture, navigation, astrology, and cosmic knowledge. Fire, one of humanity’s most profound crafts, enabled survival—but also reshaped our relationship with nature.
In The Pyrocene, Stephen Pyne describes how humans have created an era where fire is ever-present. No longer bound by fuel, seasons, or climate, fire—through unchecked technological advances—grants us freedom yet threatens to consume us.

For instance, our digital world—search engines, streaming, cloud storage—seems intangible but relies on massive physical infrastructure. In 2021, Google's U.S. data centers alone consumed 4.6 billion liters of fresh water, exacerbating existing drought crises.
Similarly, AI's so-called "progress" conceals labor exploitation, particularly in the Global South. OpenAI's ChatGPT required hundreds of thousands of hours of data labeling. Kenyan workers, paid as little as $1–2 per hour, were tasked with filtering violent content to train AI systems.
If we equate progress solely with technology, we risk falling into Aquarius’ Uranian trap.
In The Ignorant Schoolmaster, the discussion of education and inequality reveals the paradox of Aquarius.
"Our world constantly repeats this notion of 'backwardness,' 'slowness,' and 'delay' in education. Global education is built on the assumption that students will always lag behind their teachers; that 'developing' nations will always lag behind 'enlightened' ones. Today’s widespread promotion of global 'democratization'—a contemporary symbol of institutionalization and progress—is merely a new name for inequality."

Where does this belief in "progress" originate? We rarely question it.
"The continuity of history is deliberately constructed, yet history is always fractured. It can only be examined from the present moment and through a political lens."
The last time Pluto entered Aquarius, it ignited the French Revolution and the Enlightenment—a historical milestone often viewed through a Eurocentric lens. Many consider the Enlightenment a liberation from ignorance into the light of reason. But a closer look reveals its contradictions.
For example, Immanuel Kant described indigenous peoples of the Americas and Africa as lacking reason or progress, portraying them as "childlike" or "savages." These ideas reinforced colonial policies, justifying the so-called "civilizing mission" of spreading European knowledge, Christianity, and economic development.
South African artist William Kentridge critiques the colonial nature of the Enlightenment: "Every act of enlightenment—every ambition to save souls, every impulse—carries the weight, shadow, and violence that follows. The colonial project, in its own words, was about bringing light to darkness—it was Plato’s cave enacted in its most terrifying form."

It is as if someone ignores your experiences, knowledge, and feelings, only to insist, "This is the right way. I am doing this for your own good."
In We Have Never Been Modern, Bruno Latour argues that we are products of modernity, nurtured and constructed by it. Our knowledge is confined to consumption, markets, work, homes, cars, and artificial objects. Unconsciously, our daily habits reinforce modernity, which is then passed on to the next generation.

Society does not encourage us to discover our own truths or the truths of the world. Instead, it seeks to educate and condition us to fit into labor markets and social structures. We have grown accustomed to the idea that humanity dominates the world through technology, while everything we perceive reinforces this belief.
"Radical revolution is the only solution modernity can conceive, yet modernity blinds us to the fact that things themselves carry complex histories and memories (Saturn)." —Bruno Latour
Aquarius challenges us: If our understanding of the past is fragmented and uncertain, should we continue rushing toward an imagined future? If the past is fading, how should we move forward?
Closing my eyes, I see an ancient ritual unfolding.
My Chiron is at 0° Aquarius in the ninth house, precisely where Pluto now transits. The Sabian symbol for Aquarius 0° is An Old Adobe Mission in California—a symbol of lasting connections, the creation of something enduring and transcendent.

At 27° Aquarius, the Sabian symbol is An Ancient Pottery Bowl Filled with Violets, representing tradition and continuity. It signifies the resilience of meaning and identity beyond fleeting material change.
Aquarius is not merely about progress; it is about the intersection of past, present, and future. It does not erase memory but renews it; it does not defy nature but harmonizes with it.
Aquarius asks us: What kind of future is, truly, worth pursuing?
References:
Greene, Liz. The Art of Stealing Fire: Uranus in the Horoscope.
Rancière, Jacques. The Ignorant Schoolmaster: Five Lessons in Intellectual Emancipation.
Sparkly Kat, Alice. Postcolonial Astrology: Reading the Planets through Capital, Power, and Labor.
Sebald, W. G. The Rings of Saturn.
Latour, Bruno. We Have Never Been Modern.
Pyne, Stephen J. The Pyrocene: How We Created an Age of Fire, and What Happens Next.
Regina
A curator and astrologer with a Sun-Pluto conjunction in the 7th house in Sagittarius and a Midheaven in Aquarius. Passionate about the interconnectedness of stars, plants, rivers, oceans, and humans, they believe in and seek knowledge of alternative ways of life.
This article is also published by New Moon Astrology Journal in Mandarin https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/U8gv09fhN2DkBQpa6Ie5WA

When I first discovered my connection with Aquarian energy, I thought it meant I should pursue the most "innovative" technologies. I remember feeling ashamed earlier this year for not understanding modeling and 3D technology. Determined, I pushed myself to learn, even purchasing a high-end computer for the task. However, I soon realized that I could not resonate with the illusions these technologies created—an imagined world rather than a perceived one.
In the latter half of the year, my studies in ethnobotany and astrology drew me toward indigenous worldviews. Unexpectedly, I found a connection between Aquarius and ancient wisdom/memory. This led me to reflect on Pluto's entrance into Aquarius and the layers of meaning that remain to be unearthed.
Aquarius is ruled by both Uranus and Saturn. Before writing this, I had simplistically viewed them as binary opposites—Uranus representing revolution, innovation, and upheaval, while Saturn symbolized rules, tradition, and authority. As an Aquarian dedicated to social change, I had always aligned myself with Uranian energy, regarding Saturn as an adversary. Yet, through this research and writing process, I began to realize my misunderstanding of these two celestial bodies. This article aims to provide a more nuanced vision of Aquarius.
Saturn governs the skin and bones—the structures that shape our bodies. Our bodies are the medium that builds, contains, divides, and connects us to the Earth. Without the framework provided by our bodies, we cannot perceive or act. Saturn grants us a container, defining our form and boundaries, allowing us to experience both the world and others.
Our bodies follow natural rhythms—they grow, decay, and eventually return to the earth. This reveals the essence of Saturn: a deep respect for natural order. To survive and dwell upon the land, we must understand and honor the cyclical rhythms of nature—the ebb and flow of tides, the dance of rivers and planets.


Saturn urges us to respect the inherent order of all things rather than forcibly intervene.
As the planet of time, Saturn imprints its domain with memory and forgetting. In The Rings of Saturn, W.G. Sebald recounts a journey through memory while bedridden, traversing ancient English estates, abandoned islands, and the ruins of civilizations. He weaves personal recollections with collective memory, crafting a vast museum where seemingly unrelated knowledge intertwines.

Saturn, like Jupiter, represents the transition from the personal to the collective. As the farthest planet visible to the naked eye, it governs Aquarius with the lesson of confronting history's shadows, the fractures of time, and the violence of boundaries.
"In Sebald’s work, history is a taboo (Saturn), difficult to approach directly, accessible only through infinite delay and detour."
—Single Reading review of The Rings of Saturn
In 1656, British traveler John Tradescant Jr. ventured into Southeast Asia and discovered the gutta-percha tree. Observing indigenous peoples' use of rubber, he brought samples back, leading merchants to envision its economic potential. Soon, rubber became indispensable for manufacturing tires, submarine cables, and essential infrastructure.
Yet, these merchants only saw how plants and land could be exploited for imagined prosperity, ignoring how this wealth was built upon the destruction of indigenous knowledge and emotional connections with the land. This prosperity was merely an illusion, masking deeper forms of scarcity.
This trade also relied on a massive influx of foreign labor. Beyond transatlantic slave ships carrying Caribbean peoples, European governments enacted the "Chinese Labour Ordinance" in 1899, drawing migrants from coastal Cantonese regions to British colonies in Southeast Asia. Seeking a better life, they instead found themselves trapped in indentured servitude—plantation laborers reduced to "coolies."

This journey of discovery and expansion was fueled by the erasure of others’ beliefs, knowledge, and bodily autonomy. If we analyze Jupiter’s archetypes—the explorer, scientist, and merchant—we see how their thirst for expansion often created long-lasting colonial violence. Their desires seized lands, displaced people, and forced labor upon the subjugated.

This history is not confined to the past. Are our modern industries, consumption habits, and tourism still based on ecological exploitation and human oppression, hidden beneath the facade of "commerce" and "prosperity"? Pluto in Aquarius compels us to confront the hidden depths of these realities—any development that ignores Saturn’s natural laws will ultimately face karmic consequences.
Saturn is not merely about oppression but about reverence for limits. Without limits, form cannot emerge, and life cannot be sustained. Saturn reminds us that all creation must respect natural boundaries and that every timeline is steeped in historical weight. In Aquarius, Saturn plays the role of "collective memory," ensuring that innovation does not become disconnection, and that progress stands upon a stable foundation.
Public interest and truth are not always aligned. Truth is not necessarily a prerequisite for societal organization. As Pluto enters Aquarius, this planet of destruction arrives with the intent to dismantle existing social structures—forcing us to confront the violence and trauma left behind in the name of "civilization." Through remembrance and stillness, Pluto catalyzes transformation.
Uranus is linked to the idea of "beginnings." It exists in the space between sky and earth, between perception and wisdom. As the first planet discovered by telescope, Uranus represents technological mediation—techne, the force that brings the unseen into manifestation.
In The Art of Stealing Fire, Liz Greene associates Uranus with Prometheus, who stole fire for humanity, introducing architecture, navigation, astrology, and cosmic knowledge. Fire, one of humanity’s most profound crafts, enabled survival—but also reshaped our relationship with nature.
In The Pyrocene, Stephen Pyne describes how humans have created an era where fire is ever-present. No longer bound by fuel, seasons, or climate, fire—through unchecked technological advances—grants us freedom yet threatens to consume us.

For instance, our digital world—search engines, streaming, cloud storage—seems intangible but relies on massive physical infrastructure. In 2021, Google's U.S. data centers alone consumed 4.6 billion liters of fresh water, exacerbating existing drought crises.
Similarly, AI's so-called "progress" conceals labor exploitation, particularly in the Global South. OpenAI's ChatGPT required hundreds of thousands of hours of data labeling. Kenyan workers, paid as little as $1–2 per hour, were tasked with filtering violent content to train AI systems.
If we equate progress solely with technology, we risk falling into Aquarius’ Uranian trap.
In The Ignorant Schoolmaster, the discussion of education and inequality reveals the paradox of Aquarius.
"Our world constantly repeats this notion of 'backwardness,' 'slowness,' and 'delay' in education. Global education is built on the assumption that students will always lag behind their teachers; that 'developing' nations will always lag behind 'enlightened' ones. Today’s widespread promotion of global 'democratization'—a contemporary symbol of institutionalization and progress—is merely a new name for inequality."

Where does this belief in "progress" originate? We rarely question it.
"The continuity of history is deliberately constructed, yet history is always fractured. It can only be examined from the present moment and through a political lens."
The last time Pluto entered Aquarius, it ignited the French Revolution and the Enlightenment—a historical milestone often viewed through a Eurocentric lens. Many consider the Enlightenment a liberation from ignorance into the light of reason. But a closer look reveals its contradictions.
For example, Immanuel Kant described indigenous peoples of the Americas and Africa as lacking reason or progress, portraying them as "childlike" or "savages." These ideas reinforced colonial policies, justifying the so-called "civilizing mission" of spreading European knowledge, Christianity, and economic development.
South African artist William Kentridge critiques the colonial nature of the Enlightenment: "Every act of enlightenment—every ambition to save souls, every impulse—carries the weight, shadow, and violence that follows. The colonial project, in its own words, was about bringing light to darkness—it was Plato’s cave enacted in its most terrifying form."

It is as if someone ignores your experiences, knowledge, and feelings, only to insist, "This is the right way. I am doing this for your own good."
In We Have Never Been Modern, Bruno Latour argues that we are products of modernity, nurtured and constructed by it. Our knowledge is confined to consumption, markets, work, homes, cars, and artificial objects. Unconsciously, our daily habits reinforce modernity, which is then passed on to the next generation.

Society does not encourage us to discover our own truths or the truths of the world. Instead, it seeks to educate and condition us to fit into labor markets and social structures. We have grown accustomed to the idea that humanity dominates the world through technology, while everything we perceive reinforces this belief.
"Radical revolution is the only solution modernity can conceive, yet modernity blinds us to the fact that things themselves carry complex histories and memories (Saturn)." —Bruno Latour
Aquarius challenges us: If our understanding of the past is fragmented and uncertain, should we continue rushing toward an imagined future? If the past is fading, how should we move forward?
Closing my eyes, I see an ancient ritual unfolding.
My Chiron is at 0° Aquarius in the ninth house, precisely where Pluto now transits. The Sabian symbol for Aquarius 0° is An Old Adobe Mission in California—a symbol of lasting connections, the creation of something enduring and transcendent.

At 27° Aquarius, the Sabian symbol is An Ancient Pottery Bowl Filled with Violets, representing tradition and continuity. It signifies the resilience of meaning and identity beyond fleeting material change.
Aquarius is not merely about progress; it is about the intersection of past, present, and future. It does not erase memory but renews it; it does not defy nature but harmonizes with it.
Aquarius asks us: What kind of future is, truly, worth pursuing?
References:
Greene, Liz. The Art of Stealing Fire: Uranus in the Horoscope.
Rancière, Jacques. The Ignorant Schoolmaster: Five Lessons in Intellectual Emancipation.
Sparkly Kat, Alice. Postcolonial Astrology: Reading the Planets through Capital, Power, and Labor.
Sebald, W. G. The Rings of Saturn.
Latour, Bruno. We Have Never Been Modern.
Pyne, Stephen J. The Pyrocene: How We Created an Age of Fire, and What Happens Next.
Regina
A curator and astrologer with a Sun-Pluto conjunction in the 7th house in Sagittarius and a Midheaven in Aquarius. Passionate about the interconnectedness of stars, plants, rivers, oceans, and humans, they believe in and seek knowledge of alternative ways of life.
This article is also published by New Moon Astrology Journal in Mandarin https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/U8gv09fhN2DkBQpa6Ie5WA
Regina Liu
Regina Liu
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