VENUSIAN VENTURES

VENUS RX BACK INTO PISCES, CONJUNCT NEPTUNE THROUGH LAST DEGREE

Image credit—@hana. katoba on Instagram

Ah, Venus… that soft-lit siren of sweetness and yearning, retrograding back into Pisces today, March 27, like she forgot her favorite silk robe at the dream house—and Neptune, of course, is still lounging there at the final, most saturated degree, painting the furniture with longing and lace. Together, they’re mixing a cocktail so potent it doesn’t just fog your glasses, it reconfigures your retinas. This is no ordinary celestial sip. This is the kind of planetary pairing that leaves you seeing double… triple… infinite.

Venus and Neptune at 30° Pisces is like the Earth herself glowing with unborn galaxies, round-bellied with unchosen futures. The air? Thick with “what ifs” and “if onlys.” Reality? As slippery as a fish at a masquerade ball. The moment? Ripe—no, bursting—with potential so tender it practically whimpers when you look at it too directly.

And you, sweet creature, are not immune. Oh no. You’re part of the dream womb now. Pregnant with futures, aching with alternatives, pulsing with paths not yet taken but already whispering their names. Inside you are gardens not yet planted, songs not yet sung, lovers not yet met but somehow already missed. And yes, it’s confusing. Of course it is. This kind of beauty should come with a warning label and a flotation device.

Because here’s the thing: it’s not about choosing the flashiest future, or the one with the best lighting. It’s not about the fantasy with the biggest payout or the most poetic ending. It’s about surrender. Surrender that isn’t weak or watery, but holy—bone-deep, soul-bright surrender to whatever path aligns most truly with the capital-T Truth of you. And that means letting go of the illusions that have been embroidered so artfully onto the curtains of your psyche. Venus and Neptune at 30° Pisces demand that we stop curating our destiny like an aesthetic Instagram feed and start listening—to the quiet, feral hum of the soul’s desire.

But gods, it’s hard to tell what’s real right now. The veils are not just thin, they’re doing burlesque in front of your third eye. Everyone looks like a soulmate. Every idea feels like a breakthrough. Every dream could be your calling, or your undoing. The key is not to pick one in a panic. The key is to root down into your inner knowing like it’s the last tree left standing in a field of mirages. Trust the pulse beneath the performance. The flicker beneath the fireworks.

Because the future that makes it through this fog—the one that grows legs and breath and real-world traction—won’t be the one you forced. It’ll be the one that fit. The one that slipped on like second skin because your soul already knew the lines by heart. It’ll be the vision you didn’t decorate but devoted yourself to. It’ll be the path you didn’t chase but became.

So yes, we’re all a little drunk on dream water right now. Venus is swaying. Neptune is chanting. The moon is wearing perfume again. But beneath all that glittering unreality is something truer than truth: the essential won’t pass away. The rightful will rise. And if you can stay with yourself—truly with yourself—through this misty in-between, you won’t have to choose a future. The future will choose you.

And won’t that be something worth being born for?