Mars and Neptune meet in their roughly-biennial conjunction in Pisces this year, on Monday 29 April 2024 at 12:16 am EDT. The conjunction takes place in the decan called The Cup of Blood, Pisces III, associated with the Ten of Cups in Tarot, and with a happy life — but also a kind of enthusiasm or zeal dissociated from reality or fact.
Mars’ essential nature is hot and dry — like fire, his purpose is to separate and disconnect and destroy and transform; he takes the stuff of material reality and sublimates it, deliberately changing it from earth to air, from solid mass to gaseous particulate and heat. But if Neptune has a similar nature, it is cold and wet. It takes particulate matter in the atmosphere and turns it to rain; it dissipates heat and quenches fires. Part of the reason that Neptune’s visionary tendencies take so long to appear or manifest, is connected to this notion that water takes a long time to arrive at any destination… the meandering, ego-denying journey takes the longest, most humbling way. Meanwhile, Mars leaps like a forest fire over the landscape: jumping to conclusions and swiftly arriving in new places without covering all the intermediate ground.
In any conjunction, the faster planet dominates before the conjunction takes place, while the slower planet dominates after the conjunction. Accordingly, Saturn is still strong after the Saturn-MArs conjunction, while Mars is stronger than Neptune now, as I write this poem, but after 12:16 am EDT on Monday, both Saturn and Neptune will be quite powerful — and consequently, obstacles and limitations will seem insurmountable on the 29th, while motivation and ambition will drain away more completely until the Mars ingress to Aries on April 30.
Hymn to Neptune and Mars
Hail to you, Mars, as you sink in to tides
that threaten to quench your heat and your drive;
and you, great Neptune, whose power abides
not in flame nor heat, but Ocean's broad wave:
Lightning may strike, or the galley stove fail,
or a careless match might fall to the deck,
or cannonballs pierce the gunpowder store —
but no one listens as the sailors wail,
or the vessel becomes a ruined wreck —
no soul on board will ever reach the shore.
And no timber that burned will still smolder
when the damaged hull rests on the sea's floor
in waters much darker and still colder
than any cave behind Hades's door.
So many ships lie in waters less deep
than their own length measured from bow to stern —
but no kind breeze will ever puff these jibs.
What fire gave it, the waters will keep
and nothing of that boat will again burn
from crow's nest to keel, from gunwale to ribs.
Sing, Neptune, of ships abandoned and lost —
projects we wrecked on ambition's far shores;
love lives we gave up, not knowing their cost;
visions scuttled by drudgery of chores.
But shout, Mars, of fires we're still feeding —
plans we sustain despite the hurricane,
and matches in a waterproof flagon.
Help us change course from the storm's impeding,
and find the swan-road 'cross the dreamy main
beyond the sunrise, beyond the dragon.
One of the key images of the Mars-Neptune conjunction, as outlined in Robert Hand’s Planets in Transit, is the degree to which the transit feels like an ego-destroying moment: our personal projects and activities that bring a sense of self-fulfillment, and even our internal moral compasses or sense of purpose, often fail at these times in our lives. And there’s often a need to abandon some things, and seek out non-ego-centered work for a while… essentially, to change course, steer around the thing that seems like an insurmountable obstacle, and let go of your own drive for a while. Sometimes it’s about wandering in the doldrums for a bit, until the wind picks up.
And sometimes it’s about putting the fires out before they consume you and sink your ship forever.
Mars is certainly ambitious in unique ways; but Neptune is both visionary and potently ambition-quenching — since he represents both hallucination and dreaminess, as well as procrastination and delay (for allegedly good reasons). Mars wants to take the most direct path to his destination; Neptune insists on the scenic route. Mars wants a motor and a sleek cigarette boat that goes so fast it hydroplanes off the tops of the waves; Neptune uses 100% canvas sails that only catch 40% of the wind that touches them, and never takes the straightest path (unless it’s to the ocean floor in a shipwreck).
So by all means — play with taking the long way around this weekend, and figure out whether the vision suits you overall goals or not. But don’t push too hard to achieve big things this weekend; you don’t want to start an uncontrollable fire, and you don’t want to tip the boat over in your race to get where you think you want to go. Find an easier way.
