The PLANETARY PLANNER

MARCH 2025 ISSUE|PART 1

SOLAR SPOTLIGHTS: MARCH 2025—A SEASON OF REVELATION, RECKONING & RELEASE

March strides in like a mystic weighed down by the past, yet aching for the future—dragging behind it the remnants of what was while squinting toward what could be…

The sun’s square to Jupiter on March 2nd sets the stage for an existential paradox: the profound isolation of knowing too much, sensing too deeply, yet feeling utterly incapable of acting. The world spins forward, but you—suspended in a karmic waiting room—find yourself stranded between resignation and revelation. The memories murmur, the desire to break free flickers, but the moment is not yet ripe. You are cocooned, a vessel of transformation that has yet to shatter, your gifts held in containment until the wheel turns.

And turn, it does. By March 7th, the sun locks into a grand trine with Mars in Cancer and Vesta in Scorpio, and suddenly, the stillness erupts into motion. This is the alchemy of passion meeting purpose, a sacred ignition of forces long held dormant. Here, the old karmic script gets re-written in real-time—your ancestral ghosts take the stage, whispering their dramas, their guilts, their unfulfilled desires, until you realize: this isn’t just their story anymore. It’s yours. The labyrinth of self-doubt, of tangled emotional histories, of questions with no clear answers—it all combusts in a furnace of pure will. This is the moment where souls converge, where separateness dissolves in the fire of shared intent. But the test remains: will you have the courage to walk into that fire, to be seared by what you must confront?

By March 12th, the sun meets Saturn in Pisces, and the reckoning begins. The shadow moves, long and heavy. The unconscious mind stirs with memories too deep to name, wounds inherited from the ghosts of history. Trickery, deception, and the weight of past mistakes coil through the ether—this is a moment where one could either face the darkness or continue performing light. But the truth is unavoidable: something must be owned, acknowledged, transmuted. A storm brews inside the psyche, filled with mischief and menace, demanding the conscious self to claim what has long been denied.

As the sun sextiles Uranus on March 14th, the turbulence is met with equal parts terror and triumph. A crack in the static, a breach in the endless loop of suffering—here is the warrior’s moment, the leap of faith through the fire. The weight of personal, collective, and ancestral burdens presses down, but the future pulls just as fiercely. The two forces wrestle, and you stand at the fulcrum. Will you be swallowed by what has been, or will you rise toward what has yet to come?

The stakes intensify with the sun’s conjunction to the North Node on March 17th. There is no more illusion of stability. The ground tilts, the known order collapses, and you are cast into an abyss where nothing is certain. The ego’s desire for control evaporates in the chaotic, trickster energy of fate. This is the unraveling, the dismantling of status, identity, expectation—a karmic crash-course in humility. And yet, within the wreckage, the first whispers of something new emerge: a call to change, a desperate hunger to transform. The leap is inevitable. The only question is: will you surrender willingly, or will the current take you anyway?

Then, March 19th arrives like a prophecy. The sun merges with Neptune at 30 Pisces, the degree of dissolution, the precipice of rebirth. The Earth, heavy with possibilities, aches with alternate futures waiting to be chosen. Here, free will and fate become indistinguishable, and the path forward is determined by one thing: who is most willing to surrender. Those who resist will be caught in the undertow. Those who listen, who trust, who dissolve their fear into devotion—these are the ones who will emerge as vessels for what is to be.

And next, as if the cosmos itself exhales, March 20th delivers the spring equinox. The sun roars into Aries, breaking the spell of the past, snapping the cycle of indecision, setting ablaze the very fabric of hesitation. Retrograde Venus and Mercury stand in the path, waiting. Pluto lurks in the background, a silent architect of destruction and rebirth. This is not subtle. This is the moment of stark, brutal honesty. The moment where all illusions are stripped away and you are left with nothing but the raw, undeniable truth of yourself. The jackhammer of existence pounds away, demolishing all facades. There is no time for softness. There is only revelation, only candor, only the intoxicating fire of rediscovery.

And then—release.

A flood of impulse, desire, raw life force surges forward. The cosmos itself laughs in delight, sings in ecstatic revelation, and you—wild, uncontainable, alive—find yourself swept into a state of exhilaration, wonder, and boundless possibility.

You are no longer just a spectator to your fate.

You are the force, the fire, the architect of the future.

MOON MOODS: MARCH 2025—ECLIPSE SEASON & THE BATTLE BETWEEN OLD WORLDS & NEW

March is not here to whisper sweet nothings in your ear—it arrives with a cosmic wrecking ball, tearing down old illusions and unearthing what has long been buried. It is a month split between masks and unveilings, karmic collapses and rebirths, deep reckonings and electrifying reinventions. The moon, ever the keeper of our hidden tides, is in no mood for gentle nudges—it will shove, unravel, ignite. And with two eclipses punctuating this celestial drama, we are thrust into a season of radical turning points.

MARCH 6: FIRST QUARTER MOON IN GEMINI—THE RUSE OF REALITY

The first quarter moon at 16° Gemini, loosely conjunct Jupiter, invites a game of deception—though not necessarily the nefarious kind. This is the art of camouflage, the trick of appearing simple, basic, unassuming, while the subconscious runs wild beneath the surface. The mind frolics in unseen dimensions, waiting for the right moment to drop the act and step into the future.

There is a disconnect between the external and the internal, between the part of you that plays along and the part of you that knows too much, sees too far. You may find yourself going through the motions, slipping into your daily persona like an old coat, while your soul stands at the threshold of something vast and unknown. The air crackles with the anticipation of a future not yet named.

Something deep within you is gestating. This moon speaks of veiled wisdom, hidden potential, and a life that has not yet begun—but will, when the time is right. The question is, when will you finally stop pretending and step into what you were always meant to become?

MARCH 13: TOTAL LUNAR ECLIPSE IN VIRGO—THE FRACTURING OF THE KNOWN ORDER

Here is the breaking point—a total lunar eclipse at 23° Virgo, conjunct the nodes, shatters the illusion of control. If you thought you could navigate life by logic alone, this moon will pull you under and show you the depths you’ve ignored.

Virgo is the analyst, the methodical observer—but an eclipse in Virgo? That’s the mind imploding on itself, the structure collapsing, the old system failing to compute. What was once carefully contained and understood begins to spiral into chaos, a fever-dream of forgotten knowledge and buried truths.

This moon is a psychic pressure valve. It holds the weight of ancestral memory, collective trauma, and the suffocating grip of patterns that refuse to let go. The eclipse rips open a portal, pulling you into the raw undercurrents of everything left unresolved.

At first, it may feel like madness. The mind scrambling to rationalize the irrational, to impose meaning where there is none. But then, a shift—something forbidden, something lost, suddenly stirs awake. A truth that has always been waiting, trapped beneath lifetimes of conditioning.

This eclipse is a purge, a revelation, a last straw. It will not let you keep carrying what is breaking you. And if you try to resist? The weight will crush you until you surrender.

MARCH 22: LAST QUARTER MOON IN CAPRICORN—THE KARMIC INQUISITION

By the time the last quarter moon at 2° Capricorn arrives, you are face to face with the consequences. The ghosts of your past actions—the ones you ran from, the ones you thought you had outmaneuvered—have found you.

This moon is a brutal reckoning, a karmic audit, a ledger of everything unresolved. Capricorn is unforgiving, and with Venus and Mercury both retrograde, past choices will not stay buried.

This is the moment where avoidance is no longer an option. The fears, the judgments, the repulsions—all of it is shoved into the spotlight, daring you to flinch. You can either stand in the truth, strip yourself bare, and take accountability—or you can keep cycling through the same patterns, trapped in an endless loop of self-recrimination.

This moon does not ask for politeness. It does not care for charm or deflection. It wants honesty—raw, blunt, unfiltered. It demands that you cut away the false narratives and own what is yours.

Break the loop. Or be swallowed by it.

MARCH 29: SOLAR ECLIPSE IN ARIES—THE BATTLE FOR THE FUTURE

And then—the flashpoint—a solar eclipse at 9° Aries, a razor’s edge between burning the past and forging the new.

This is not a gentle rebirth. This is a collision of wills, an all-out war between who you were and who you are meant to be. The past clings, vicious in its death throes, desperate to keep you locked in old habits, predictable patterns, familiar chains. The future roars from the horizon, wild and uncontainable.

Aries is raw power, sheer momentum, the refusal to be caged. This eclipse strips away hesitation, obliterates fear, demands that you step fully into your own becoming.

But here’s the truth: transformation is never clean. It is ugly, volatile, marked by bruises and scars. And the battle within—the one between regression and evolution—will not be won easily.

There will be resistance, because the old self does not die without a fight. There will be doubt, because stepping into the unknown requires faith in something you cannot yet see. But there will also be fire, clarity, and an unmistakable knowing that you cannot—must not—turn back.

The eclipse marks a threshold. One that, once crossed, will not let you return to what was. The weight of history collides with the force of destiny, and from that collision—a new self emerges.

The only question is: who will win?

THE FINAL TAKEAWAY

This eclipse season is not merely a cosmic event. It is a confrontation with fate, a raw unmaking, a passage through fire. It will strip you down to your most essential self, burn away illusions, and leave you standing at the crossroads of everything you have ever been and everything you are about to become.

There is no easing into this one. There is only the leap, only the transformation, only the irreversibility of what is coming.

Shed the old skin. Burn the old world.

The future is waiting…

MERCURIAL MACHINATIONS: MARCH 2025—THE MIND UNCHAINED, THE MIND UNHINGED

If March is a storm, then Mercury is the lightning, striking, sparking, and occasionally setting the whole damn structure on fire. This is not a month for passive contemplation. This is a month where the mind becomes a battleground, a playground, a proving ground—where thought is both a weapon and a gateway, where the boundaries of logic blur, stretch, and finally dissolve altogether.

It all begins on March 1, with Mercury conjoining the North Node at 28° Pisces, and suddenly, the air is thick with ghosts—trickster spirits, karmic echoes, the murmurings of fate disguised as stray thoughts. What’s real? What’s hallucination? What’s a memory from three lifetimes ago that just showed up as déjà vu? This is a mind unmoored, a consciousness forcibly stripped of certainty, cast into the raw, chaotic sea of pure receptivity. It is the exile, the sacrifice, the reluctant mystic whose mind is no longer entirely their own.

Then, on March 2, Mercury collides with Neptune at 29° Pisces—the last degree, the final breath, the threshold of madness and genius. Here, the script is rewritten, but it’s unclear who’s holding the pen. Reality flickers, shifting from ritualistic precision to fever-dream improvisation. This is the alchemy of discipline meeting divine inspiration, of breaking one’s mind open in pursuit of the perfect pattern. It’s intoxicating, obsessive, a mind hell-bent on recreating the cosmos from scratch, no matter the cost.

And then, in a whiplash shift, Mercury barrels into Aries on March 3. No more drifting through Piscean fog—here, thought ignites, words are fire, ideas demand action. Aries doesn’t ask permission. It demands the future.

That demand turns into a battle cry by March 5, when Mercury squares Pluto at 4° Aquarius. This is no ordinary idea—this is a revolution, an uncontainable force of revelation, a crack in the common day that lets something entirely other come pouring through. The mind is now a conduit, a frequency attuned to discovery, a wild and electrified return to wonder. Thoughts burst forth raw, unfiltered, ecstatic. The stale assumptions of the past crumble beneath the sheer momentum of new awareness. It’s exhilarating. Dangerous. Uncontainable. It cannot be hoarded; it must be shared, spoken, unleashed upon the world like wildfire.

On March 11, Mercury—now deep in Aries—collides with a retrograding Venus at 9°, and suddenly, time folds in on itself. Here is the meeting of past and future, the seer who has already seen it all and is bored stiff with humanity’s refusal to evolve. A sharp and ruthless mind, weary of repetition, impatient for what’s next. But beneath the detached, world-weary cynicism, there is a hunger, a burning ache for something fresh, something that refuses to be contained by history. The battle begins—not just between what was and what could be, but between the part of the mind that sneers at hope and the part of the mind that still secretly believes in miracles.

That battle hits a breaking point on March 13, when Mercury stations retrograde at 10° Aries.

Suddenly, the fire that was raging outward turns inward—and the war begins within.

It is a cage match between old patterns and new possibilities, between who you were and who you are trying to become. The mind resists change with everything it has, because change means confronting the parts of yourself that you’ve long since stopped questioning. Aries fights for autonomy, reinvention, rebirth—but Mercury retrograde in Aries? That’s the raw struggle between the mind’s refusal to evolve and the soul’s refusal to remain trapped.

It is a battle for survival—of thought, of identity, of will.

And it will leave scars.

By March 25, Mercury retrogrades back into sextile with Pluto, at 4° Aquarius—a second encounter with the lightning strike of revelation. But this time, it’s different. This time, the mind has been humbled, wounded, reshaped by the internal war. This time, the insights are not shouted—they are whispered. The arrogance is gone, replaced by awe. The door to discovery swings open once more, but now, there is reverence, not just rebellion.

And then, in a final act of cosmic theater, March 29 pulls Mercury back into Pisces.

The mind returns to the dreamscape—but not as it was before. This is no longer passive surrender. This is a magician’s mind, tempered by fire, reshaped by battle, stripped of illusion yet open to wonder.

The patterns repeat—but this time, they are no longer prisons. They are portals.

And the question remains:

Will you step through?

VENUSIAN VENTURES: MARCH 2025—LOVE, LOSS & THE ART OF BECOMING

March unfolds like an old love letter found in the wreckage of a life already lived—half-remembered, half-rewritten, fragile in its yearning, relentless in its call to transformation. Venus, ever the siren of beauty, love, and value, does not glide through this month in silken ease—she unravels, reverses, resurrects, and returns. She is a ghost, a warrior, a dreamer lost in the liminal space between past and future, between what has been loved and what has yet to be chosen.

The dance begins with Venus stationing retrograde at 11° Aries, lingering there until March 8—a threshold moment, suspended between self-will and higher will, between the illusion of control and the reality of surrender. Here, Venus does not merely pause; she hovers, she observes, she waits.

This is not passive waiting, not idle dreaming—this is the space between destruction and reinvention, where everything hangs in the balance. Venus in Aries is not delicate; she does not beg for approval. She burns with the force of self-becoming, wielding desire as both sword and compass. But in retrograde, that fire turns inward—who am I, really? What do I want, truly? What parts of my own love story have I been running from?

The world itself feels like a landscape of lost things, scattered dreams and forgotten desires—but beneath the rubble, something new is waiting to be born. Venus is not here to retrieve what was; she is here to salvage the vision, to resurrect the dream, to sculpt something raw and unbreakable from the ruins.

MARCH 11–21: THE PRESSURE BUILDS

By March 11, Venus meets Mercury in Aries—and the mind ignites. If Venus retrograde is the dream, Mercury is the voice, the declaration, the refusal to keep it contained. Here, the mind races ahead of the heart, translating the ache for something new into restless thought, sharp analysis, impatient desire.

Then, by March 21, Venus moves into sextile with Pluto—and suddenly, the undercurrents stir. Here, love is not gentle, not soft. It is raw power, magnetic force, the gravitational pull of something too deep to name. If Venus in Aries seeks reinvention, Pluto asks: “Are you willing to burn for it?” The past does not vanish without a fight. The old patterns, the unresolved entanglements, the echoes of past selves—they do not release easily.

This moment is a reckoning, a confrontation with what we refuse to let die, what we secretly still long to keep. The choice is clear: cling to the ashes, or walk into the fire and claim the rebirth that awaits.

MARCH 22: THE SUN STRIPS AWAY THE VEIL

As if the universe itself demands full exposure, the sun collides with Venus retrograde at 3° Aries—and the mask shatters.

This is truth unfiltered, love unvarnished, reality in its most raw and unrelenting form. There is no room for illusion. No more pretending, no more posturing, no more polite avoidance of the thing you already know deep down.

Venus in Aries does not tolerate self-deception, and the sun acts as a cosmic jackhammer—relentless, ruthless, impossible to ignore. What you see now, you cannot unsee. What you feel now, you cannot deny. This is a love that demands truth—whether it is beautiful or whether it is devastating.

MARCH 27: BACK INTO PISCES—A RETURN TO THE DREAM

Just as the fire reaches its peak, Venus retreats into Pisces on March 27, falling backwards into the ocean, dissolving into the dream once more.

But this is not the same Venus who burned through Aries with raw force. This Venus carries the weight of what she has seen, the exhaustion of fighting the past, the quiet knowledge that some things can only be surrendered, not conquered.

And so, she drifts—not in passivity, but in trust. In Pisces, Venus does not force, does not push—she allows.

And in her conjunction with Neptune at 30° Pisces, the entire world becomes pregnant with possibility.

Here, all futures exist at once. Every path, every choice, every version of love that could ever be—it is all here, waiting. But which path will take root? Which dream will break through the mist and become real?

Venus in Pisces does not chase, does not demand. She waits for what is true, for what is surrendered, for what is chosen with the heart wide open.

MARCH 31: A FINAL COLLAPSE, A FINAL RECKONING

And just when the month could not twist any deeper, Venus—still retrograde—conjoins the North Node at 28° Pisces.

And the spirits arrive.

This is not metaphor. This is the moment when everything you have been running from—every unspoken feeling, every discarded truth, every love lost to time—it all comes flooding in.

Pisces is not bound by the rules of space and time. Here, past lovers, old wounds, long-forgotten desires—they slip between the cracks of reality, whispering, laughing, reminding you of everything you once thought you had left behind.

Venus in Pisces at the North Node is not here to give you clarity. She is here to leave you utterly unmoored, stripped of certainty, emptied out so completely that all that remains is what is real.

And when that moment comes—when the abyss opens, when the past collapses, when the weight of longing reaches its final breaking point—there will only be one thing left to do.

You choose.

You surrender.

You let go.

And in that letting go, the future arrives.

THE FINAL TAKEAWAY

Venus spends this month walking the razor-thin edge between destruction and rebirth. She moves through the fire of Aries, into the deep waters of Pisces, back through time, back into the dream, back into the origin point of love itself.

She does not return the same. Neither will you.

This is not a month of easy love. It is a month of unraveling, of facing what has long been buried, of choosing between what has already died and what is still waiting to be born.

And when the dust settles, when the ghosts quiet, when the path ahead clears—

You will know.

You will feel it in your bones, in your breath, in the space that was once filled with longing and is now simply open, waiting.

And in that space, love begins again.

MOVEMENTS OF MARS: MARCH 2025—FIRE ON THE FAULT LINE

Mars does not tiptoe through March. He does not ask permission. He does not apologize for the collateral damage. Instead, he bares his teeth, throws himself into the fray, and tests every weak link in the system.

This month, Mars does not charge blindly forward—he squares Chiron in Aries, exact on March 26 at 22°, and the wound is opened before the battle begins.

There is a tension here, a friction that cannot be ignored. If Mars is raw willpower, Chiron is the tender spot that winces when pushed too hard. Together, they create a battlefield of healing—a place where old scars throb under new pressures, where the drive to move forward clashes against the ghosts of past failures.

And yet, this is not just a wound—it is a door.

Mars squaring Chiron forces the issue, strips away avoidance, demands that the old pain be confronted, not carried.

The world is shifting. There is a call for something new, something vital, something beyond the stagnant echoes of history. This energy is spacious—making room for what has yet to be born, inviting something different to take shape. It holds a collective longing—a deep, pulsing ache for breakthrough, for unity, for a world that does not repeat the past in endless cycles of destruction.

But Mars is not patient. He does not wait for change to be gently coaxed into existence. He demands it. He rips open space. He cracks the foundation, forces the water to rush in, calls the Great Goddess herself down from the sky and says, “Now. We do this now.”

And yet—here is the catch.

Mars is not just fighting against the world—he is fighting against himself.

Chiron does not merely wound; he reveals. The battle is not just external—it is internal. Every fear, every insecurity, every hidden sabotage that lingers in the subconscious—under this square, they will surge to the surface, full-force, refusing to be ignored.

This is not an easy confrontation. This is the kind of inner war where what you resist does not merely linger in the shadows—it becomes amplified, magnified, projected onto everything. The mind becomes a battlefield, and what you believe—truly believe—about yourself will play out in front of you like a prophecy fulfilled.

So what do you believe?

What have you been feeding your mind?

What have you been allowing to shape your reality?

Because this month, Mars will test it all.

THE AFTERSHOCKS: SATURN & URANUS WAIT IN THE WINGS

By the end of March, Mars begins applying pressure to both Saturn in Pisces and Uranus in Taurus, though their exact connections won’t hit until April.

This is a foreshadowing, a gathering storm.

Saturn, ever the stern gatekeeper, will try to rein Mars in, to discipline the fire, to demand patience, restraint, endurance. But Uranus? Uranus will egg Mars on, push him toward the edge, whisper revolution in his ear.

Structure or rebellion? Control or chaos? Strategy or instinct?

This tension will brew beneath the surface, growing sharper as the month closes—Mars isn’t finished, not by a long shot.

MARCH 2025: THE FINAL TAKEAWAY

Mars is both the initiator and the destroyer, the breaker of chains and the forger of new ones. This month, he forces a reckoning with the wounds we carry, the visions we hold, and the reality we create through our own unchecked will.

This is not a passive month. This is a crucible, a test, a raw and undeniable confrontation with self and circumstance.

What you put into the fire will determine what emerges.

Will you burn away the ghosts of the past, or will you keep repeating their stories?

Will you let your fears shape your world, or will you forge something new from the ashes?

The choice is not coming.

It is here.