I am thinking about the planet Saturn. In astrology, Saturn is associated with limitations, delays, time, and maturity. It’s the long-term, hard-working path: what you put in is what you get out.
I’m sitting with my relationship to work in the context of those themes, and my day-to-day life in context to global events. I’m a hard worker. I know how to put effort and consistency into things I am passionate about.
I recall myself in university, putting countless hours into my photo assignments—overnights in the computer lab, days and even nights spent with my photo subjects.
I’ve seen this relationship to work evolve over the years—not just working harder, but also working smarter.
As I’ve aged, I’ve become more aware of burnout, of sustainability. There’s a saying: my love is limitless, my energy is not. It brings me to this moment, where I feel my energy level much lower than usual.
How do I work today? How do I make concrete effort if I am feeling sad so often lately, or tired with a heavy unsureness that seems to permeate most of my days?
The reality is, my feelings are not unique. Scrolling through social media, seeing the news headlines, and just my general empathy toward the collective inform me that the mass struggle the world is witnessing—at the hands of powers beyond us—is tapping on our reserves in ways that really test how far we can go at this pace.
I am torn, tender, holding the inner awareness of the power of rest, grace, softness, time to tend the inner garden—and at the same time, facing the external push to work harder and keep going. It’s not only capitalism that demands it, but also the sheer effort required to resist, not submit, and persevere.
This moment feels like a zero-sum game. Test after test. Patience called on to the highest degree. And without truly any sense of whether better is to come from this.
I have moments of feeling the weight, the reality, the limitation—and I truly question how I’m still moving forward when life feels like a penultimate standstill.
And yet, I still move forward. Even when I’m still, grieving in bed, I’m being moved forward at 450,000 miles an hour across the galaxy.
I’m moving toward change, a breakthrough, a potential to prosper against all odds. There are so many symbols in nature—plant life, animals—surviving the most unique conditions.
It’s almost comical to think about: how unique this moment in time feels, and yet how un-special this pressure is in a way. There is a genetic coding amongst our species—and across species—to survive and adapt. And that is what keeps me going, even when there is not much conscious willpower.
I am both frustrated by and extremely grateful for resilience. I understand that the tests of this moment shall pass too. And while I may not understand right now what the fog and the simultaneous cold, hard reality of this moment are bringing, I can still keep writing, sharing, expressing with honest sincerity. I can take naps and breaks when I can. I can keep moving forward, one way or another.
Powerful