Pluto-in-Virgo Generation: Transforming the Work Environment

Back in the day (i.e., December 1999), I published my first astrology article, "The Astrology of Generation X," in Dell Horoscope. That month, I regularly walked to my friendly neighborhood news stand, Gem Spa, which also made the best egg creams in New York City, to see my name featured on Dell Horoscope's final cover of the twentieth century. I was 29 years old and had every reason to believe that I was on the verge, that my thirties in the "aughts" (as I somewhat pretentiously referred to the '00s) would bring me over the threshold. To be sure, my upcoming Saturn Return chart looked ominous, with a pileup of planets in Taurus squaring Uranus in Aquarius. Yet I was still hopeful. It helped that the magazine almost immediately accepted another article and that I landed my first telecommuting job that winter (organizing a database for an online business dictionary), which necessitated my first desktop (a Compaq) with internet capability. To be sure, it was a gig (meaning the hours were just shy of making me eligible for benefits), but the hourly wage was decent, and my landlords at that time were my parents. The ruler of my 6th house, Uranus, was in my 1st house, so I was born to be my own boss, to freelance. If I was a patchwork worker, I figured I could cover myself enough to have a patchwork blanket.

In that first article, I wrote that the Pluto-in-Virgo group, born between 1956-57 and 1971-72, may have "bad job karma." This was in part a reaction to what the early Gen-Xers (and late Boomers) experienced in the workplace during the 1990s, trailing the Pluto-in-Leo mainline Boomers like Cinderella picking up after her diva stepsisters: we were either snubbed or bullied. The media painted us as apathetic slackers or stupid jocks; the smarter ones were nerds before geek was chic.

As the "aughts" wore on, however, the slacker image wore out like an artfully ripped flannel shirt. Pluto-in-Virgo workers got busy as transiting Pluto burned through Sagittarius. By the end of the first decade of the twenty-first century, with Pluto entering Capricorn, the so-called Great Recession hit the United States, and most downsized Pluto-in-Virgo individuals had the misfortune of being on the wrong side of forty while also being left out of the fledgling Boomer-Millennial debate/pity party/pissing contest. Virtually every industry was cut to the bone; it was a "jobless recovery" that mainly benefited corporations and banks (Pluto in Capricorn) as well as people who were already rich (the so-called 1 percent). Freelancing and gig work became more common, with many people having to cobble two or three jobs together just to survive. (The only reason I was able to stay afloat as a freelancer in publishing for as long as I did was because I had worked "in house" for a few years.) Now, with the Covid-19 pandemic leading to unemployment levels in the United States not seen since the Great Depression, it will fall to the Pluto-in-Virgo group to transform the work environment.

It will be a tough task, as the Pluto-in-Leo generation isn't going anywhere, and they are far more likely to be at the top of the pyramid in terms of position and power. But in the decade leading up to this global health crisis, the younger Millennial generation (born with Pluto in Scorpio and Sagittarius) has been far more likely than their Boomer bosses to view white-collar office or "knowledge" work more as a thing than a place, thanks to the technological advances that occurred during Uranus and Neptune transiting Aquarius, from the World Wide Web and Windows 95 through smartphones. It is therefore up to the Pluto-in-Virgo group to transform the work environment, even if it means jamming the gears with our bodies.

For office workers, this will entail Pluto-in-Virgo managers convincing Boomer top dogs that health concerns (Virgo) matter more than face time and that actual productivity (Virgo again) matters more than the appearance of busyness. As all 50 states have reopened in varying degrees for business despite the warnings of epidemiologists, this is the optimal time to jettison the one-size-fits-all approach to work in favor of flexible arrangements that will suit everyone's different and often unexpected needs, including the most control-freaky Pluto-in-Leo bosses (when they consider how much money they will save on office space while still being able to monitor their employees' output via tracking software). The "essential" workers in the service industry who are grossly underpaid while risking their health face an even tougher battle for a living wage plus sick live, as well as the millions of Americans who will remain unemployed and, consequently, uninsured and at risk for all sorts of health issues, including malnutrition. I am hoping against hope that some Pluto-in-Virgo individuals will come out of the woodwork to engineer a pragmatic (Virgo) plan (Virgo again) that will clean up (yep, Virgo once again) the mess we are in.

At its worst, Virgo is myopic and pays so much attention to detail that it can't see the forest for the trees, but at its best, there is a purity of purpose that cares more about what works and less about ideology. It is worth noting that the US natal chart has Neptune in Virgo square Mars in Gemini, which can lead to poor judgment as well as erratic energy, lies, and scandal. Transiting Neptune in Pisces is within range of opposing America's Neptune, and in part this is manifesting as the United States being #1 in infections and deaths from a pandemic.

Pluto has an extreme nature; it transforms or kills all matters relating to the sign it transits. The "tune in, turn on, drop out" credo of the late 1960s was born during the Uranus-Pluto conjunction in Virgo. Divorce peaked with Pluto transiting the marriage sign of Libra, while AIDS peaked during the Pluto in Scorpio transit, effectively ending the sexual revolution. Organized religion, higher education, travel, and zealots were all spotlighted during Pluto's transit of Sagittarius (9/11 occurred on the heels of the Saturn-Pluto opposition). Now, with Pluto in the last decanate of Capricorn, edging up to the US's Pluto's Return, individuals born between 1969 and 1972 are best positioned to work with this often frightening, harsh energy. Since Virgo excels at finding the perfect words for each situation, perhaps it is time to come up with 95 memes for a new reformation.

Solar Eclipse in Virgo: Work It, Baby!

Greetings, Lovelies and Uglies and those who are a combination of the two:

We are fast approaching the final New Moon of summer (in the Northern Hemisphere), which will also be a partial Solar Eclipse. Exact September 13, 2:41 a.m. EDT, this lunation at 20 degrees of Virgo is a challenge to put on your cosmic hardhat and Get. To. Work.

This is one of those times when all work and no play will not make you a dull boy or girl. To the contrary, the more you work on yourself, the more rewarding you will find the New Moon / Solar Eclipse.

Even in modern-day astrology, when it is standard to sugarcoat the most heinous planetary aspects and placements as "great potential for growth," Virgo suffers from a bad reputation without the fun and intimidation points racked up by its cousin Scorpio. At least Scorpio is a seductive force to be reckoned with and can always get laid, whereas poor Virgo gets zero respect for being a prissy, perfectionist, nitpicking, overly cautious, submissive worker bee whose main weapons appear to be white gloves (handy for doing spot checks of dust levels in other people's homes) and an insistence on perfect grammar.

For those of you smartypants whose knowledge of astrology goes beyond Sun signs, you have doubtlessly learned that Venus placed in Virgo is the pits, and that if you are unlucky enough to attract one of those killjoys who give love a bad name, to run for the hills. Take that, Mick Jagger, Julia Roberts, Joni Mitchell, Roger Federer, Eminem, Mila Kunis, J. K. Rowling, and Kate Winslet! (Although speaking as a Venus-in-Virgo native, I will state here that I myself would probably flee from the likes of Sean Penn, Roman Polanski, and Martha Stewart.)

Now is the time to summon up and own those very qualities that consign Virgo to the dustbin of the Zodiac. Working on yourself can be a royal pain in the ass, and unless it involves a bottle of hair dye or a visit to a tattoo parlor, there is no guarantee that anyone will even notice. Working on yourself can take your entire damned life if you're doing it right. Virgo understands deep down that all worthwhile ventures can take a lot of time and effort, and that if you are in it for the long haul, you must be patient with yourself while pushing yourself.

As a Mercury-ruled Earth sign, Virgo also understands that thoughts are in fact things. To quote R. W. Emerson, "A man is what he thinks all day long." The self-loathing Virgo does itself no favors; the confident Virgo can win its version of the jackpot. This observation applies to all signs of the Zodiac, of course, yet Virgo in particular must be especially vigilant to monitor its tendency to self-doubt. A crippling degree of self-criticism will lead not to a jackpot, but a straitjacket of your own making.

Virgo's place in the Zodiac occurs at a critical juncture of humanity's evolution: self-consciousness. The immediately preceding sign Leo assumes it will be loved and valued simply for being its royal self; Virgo asks, What can I bring to the table? Plenty, actually: the symbol of Virgo is a wheat-toting maiden -- the purity of hard work culminating in harvest time. Even if you are gluten-free or on a low-carb diet these days, take the best page from this sign's thick book and work toward your own harvest. If you are less than thrilled with such Virgo-ruled areas in your life as job, health, diet, and/or wardrobe, use the energy of the upcoming Solar Eclipse to begin to change these areas. Although you may not see results immediately, at least you can make a definite start, and even starts can be very healing.

Mars Retrograde to Me: You're Fired. Me to Mars Retrograde: Up Your Nose with a Rubber Hose.

Okay, so Mars is retrograde in Libra and I really shouldn't have been shocked by what happened right after I got to work on Tuesday, on the approaching Moon-Mars conjunction.

But what the hell, the Sun was also exactly trining my Neptune and Mercury (forming a grand trine in water). I thought that would be more than sufficient protection. In fact, I was no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop; I was plenty tense the day before, figuring if there was gonna be any blowback from the events of last Friday night, it would happen on Monday.

I couldn't have been wronger. It was on Monday that my fate was sealed via an upper-management meeting. The so-called team with whom there was some unpleasantness on Friday night (which was not my fault -- it was a design issue, not my department) turned out to be a bunch of turncoats. This Gang of Four apparently didn't complain to my mild-mannered, lower-than-low-key Libra supervisor (who hadn't been there on Friday night when the team gang-up occurred, though the other evening-shift person had been, and she claimed without my asking her that she'd never seen anything like the shit that happened, shit that involved my methods and my competency being called into question, so I'm not crazy). No, the team went straight to upper management to get rid of my troublemaking ass. I even know which one of them was the instigator to throw me under the bus: she was the classic down-masquerading-as-an-up with tacky dyed blond hair and a face that only a Mack truck would love. This was the charmer who had never bothered to learn how to spell my name correctly even though it was right on my work email.

Fittingly, my Libra supervisor was the henchman on Tuesday. Due to some typical snafu my name was not in the corporate reimbusement system, so my supervisor paid me in cash for the cabs I'd had to take home two nights in a row from staying at the office till 1 a.m. to get the tons of absolutely necessary work done, then he wanted to know if we could talk for a minute. I felt like a regularly scheduled prostitute being given the boot after above-and-beyond services rendered.

I was never even given an opportunity to defend myself. That hardly seems fair -- especially since if anyone should've been fired, it shouldn't have been me.

But fairness seems to be in rather limited supply these days. My oldest friend, who shuffled off this mortal coil nearly seven years ago, had some old-school astrology book that claimed when Mars was retrograde, "bullies prevail." That's it in a nutshell.

So much for snitches winding up in ditches. In this case, it's the rats that ratted me out for the heinous crime of wanting to do my job correctly that won. Last Friday night, the Sun was within half a degree of opposing my Pluto -- I was right to be paranoid, but never dreamed I'd get fired over the kerfuffle, and never figured my best defense would be to go on the offensive and complain to my supervisor over what had transpired. The other evening-shifter told me on the phone on Wednesday that Libra Supervisor was "a nice guy, but won't stand up for us when there's a problem." As a result, I am back to square one, where I was in January, newly cut off from EUC, not making enough coin as a full-time freelancer, raising worrying to an art form.

So much for thinking that I wasn't going to have to deal with the fearsome-sounding Cardinal Cross in April, starring Uranus, Pluto, Jupiter, and...oh yes...Mars. Stay tuned (as opposed out out of tune).

Transiting Sun Opposing My Natal Pluto: The Whole World's Out to Get Me

...or is it that I'm out to get the whole world? This topsy-turvy logic may make more sense, and it may not even be that weird; after all, Pluto Rising, c'est moi.

First of all, has anyone out there in astrology-lovin' cyberspace missed me? It's been something like five weeks since my last post. What's changed in those five weeks? Simple, really: I got a part-time (technically freelance) job that feels like a full-time one due to a long commute and fine print attached ("You must demonstrate the same degree of commitment and general gung-ho-osity as this company's full-timers, including but not limited to checking work email early on weekend mornings in order that you may resolve the sphincter-spasming issue of a PM's not receiving a file you sent late last night in order to meet a crucial deadline. Oh, and if you are not a technical wizard, you had better either become one or pray that nothing seriously goes awry after our tech ninjas leave the building for the day. And did we mention you will need to stay late again tonight?")

This is what I wanted, even prayed and burned candles for: steady work. Now I've got it and while there are some definite positives (a steady paycheck that will launch me a notch or two above what NYC considers piss-poor; a cool, laid-back supervisor who answers my many questions with amazing patience; a very nice fellow evening-shift colleague), I am also stressed-out, constantly tired yet too wired to relax, and perhaps most upsetting of all, supremely uncreative. It wasn't too long ago that I was that magic combination of imagination and discipline. Now...fuggedaboutit.

I was really hoping that today would be different; that I'd be able to get some Creative Time in. But with the Sun opposing my Pluto (and, by the way, poised to enter my 7th House later this evening), my laptop became infected with a virus that somehow infiltrated my trusty (Ed) Norton Internet Security, and had to be fixed via remote technician to the tune of $89.98.

And somehow, it's gotten to be almost five o'clock Brooklyn Time. Fuck. If I manage to put away all the laundry I did yesterday before work and get to the grocery store to pick up a few staples, I may still have a chance.

And maybe once the Sun leaves my 6th House and begins to trine my Mars, Mercury, and Neptune from my 7th House over the next few days, life won't seem as bleak, and the Cult of Work that's been up in my grille for the past month or so will ebb at least somewhat.

I can only hope.

The Glorious Grand Trine in Water

With all the talk over the past year or so about the fearsome and feared Uranus-Pluto square, an equally important, powerful, and rare "good witch" aspect was ignored: a Grand Trine in the Water element involving Mars conjunct Jupiter in Cancer, Moon (plus North Node) and Saturn in Scorpio, and Neptune in Pisces.

As if this was not already enough Water, the Sun and Mercury are also in Cancer, bringing us to a total of seven planets in Water. Although the Moon in Scorpio triggered this Grand Trine on Tuesday evening, even after the Moon leaves Scorpio at 1:54 p.m. (ET), the Grand Trine will still be in effect, as Mars has yet to trine Neptune and Saturn on Saturday (3:53 p.m. and 5:34 p.m., respectively) and will then conjunct Jupiter at 3:35 a.m. on Monday, with the Sun in the last few hours of Cancer.

What this Grand Trine is about includes mastery of the emotions, as this is the domain of the Water element. Expansion, faith, and risk taking are in tune with contraction, structure, and hard work, which in turn supports dreams, inspiration, and intuition. This could be a watershed moment for popular (or unpopular culture) and the collective unconscious, but the Moon in Scorpio has made this Grand Trine highly personal -- and what is continuing to energize the Grand Trine is the red planet, motor of our the solar system.

Mars is said to be in its "fall" in Cancer, yet Jupiter is said to be "exalted" in this sign -- so this conjunction could go one of three ways: Mars could dominate (bringing much energy but possible conflict into the home and family), Jupiter could dominate (bringing blessings and bounty into the home), or Mars and Jupiter will manage to cancel out each other's worst and best qualities. However this conjunction plays out for you personally, there will be a magnification (Jupiter) of the emotions (Cancer), a spotlight on home and family (Cancer), and a DIY spirit toward home improvement (Mars in Cancer).

Discretion is the better part of valor (or is it velour?) so I cannot go into detail about how I managed to snap out of my Mercury Retrograde funk and dive headfirst into the waves of this extremely rare Grand Trine, but it was possibly the best post-birthday gift I ever gave to myself. Among many other things, I learned how to breathe.

Sun/Saturn Conjunction: Taking Responsibility for Yourself

Today the Sun and Saturn meet (the exact conjunction is 8:42 p.m. EDT). Because we are also coming up on the Last Quarter Moon in Cancer (11:52 p.m. EDT), there will also be a Moon/Saturn square (11:40 p.m.). The Last Quarter aspect itself relates strongly to the sign Capricorn, which is ruled by Saturn. All this by way of saying that there's a lot of Saturn energy out there today. Saturn can be a melancholy "heavy," and especially combined with the Moon in Cancer, a "wet blanket." The weather today, at least at my coordinates, is literally reflecting that: plenty of rain with the possibility of flooding. (The Moon also opposes Pluto in Capricorn at 2:54 p.m., which is a good time to avoid being drawn into any emotional or manipulative exchanges.)

How best to handle your inner weather? Saturn is all about time--especially slowing it down. If your day is dragging, take it as a blessing in disguise and use that extra time to ponder your relationships (since the Sun/Saturn conjunction occurs in Libra, the most relating-centric sign in the zodiac), your ambition, your goals. It is a good day to concentrate on structure of any kind, both inner and outer, such as hierarchies, architecture or bones (especially spine), outlines or timelines. It is a good day to work hard, but not so hard as to force an idea whose time has not come.

Fellow earth sign Virgo is the sign of discrimination, details, organization, and service, but Capricorn is more likely to want to run the company and be on top than to toil or tinker, unrecognized, on the finer details. Yet if you wind up being the lone goat on the mountaintop, you can easily become disconnected from others; it is very important to make an effort to connect and foster a sense of interdependency. Even if you are the most rugged, anti-team-player individualist on earth, you can't do it all (whatever "all" means to you) by yourself. Again, the fact that Sun and Saturn are in Libra, the relating sign, should help.

And if all this difficult yet necessary effort is getting you down, listen to Capricorn Janis Joplin's "Try Just a Little Bit Harder" (preferably the live version).