How to be friends with Saturn
what I've learned from 600 astrology readings
A note on the astrology of the moment: Just after midnight ET on July 13, Saturn stationed retrograde in Aries. Saturn goes retrograde for several months each year. This year’s retrograde journey will take the ringed planet of discipline and structure back through the first two degrees of Aries, and into the final degrees of Pisces for one last pass. Saturn entered Aries at the end of May, so we’re just getting to know what the planet of rules in the sign of giving no fucks is all about. A planet’s first retrograde station in a sign often tells us a lot of what the entire transit will be about. With this retrograde station, we’re beginning one story and ending another one. And from now through November 27, when Saturn stations direct, both are having a systems review.
For me, Saturn is transiting my 7th house of relationships. This includes lovers, friends, business associates, and also: clients. Interestingly, this retrograde station marks the exact Saturn square of when I started offering 1-on-1 astrology readings. Saturn was at 1º Capricorn then, and now it’s at 1º Aries. Saturn squares serve as audits, make or break moments. I wasn’t thinking about the technicality of this when I sat down to write this newsletter, but what came out was an ode to this Saturnian milestone.
Not unrelatedly, this Wednesday (7/16), I’m opening my books for the rest of the summer with my (long-mentioned) updated offerings. Paid subscribers will get a special discount code for bookings. So if you’re enjoying this newsletter and love a sale, now’s a great time to show your support.
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How to be friends with Saturn
On January 4, 2018, I announced via Instagram story that I was open for astrology readings. For a suggested price of $30-60—or a meal! Or a trade! Or a 2018-priced cocktail!—you too could sit with me for an hour and talk about your birth chart. I was six months into an intensive traditional astrology course. I was such a beginner, but learning way too much to keep it to myself. I was info dumping on my roommate about Saturn-Pluto conjunctions, and texting paragraphs of poetic prose about the quality of light during Virgo season to any friend who would receive it. My teacher said that the best learning came through practice, and sitting with actual people and their charts. It was my Saturn Return. It was time.
When I embarked on this journey, I had no intentions of becoming a professional astrologer. I’ve now logged over 600 astrology readings. As I approach a milestone in this practice, and reconsider how I do things, I want to reflect on what I’ve learned from doing hundreds of readings —about astrology, the people I’ve served, and most importantly: myself. I want to make sure the structure is sound before entering a new era.
Saturn is my friend, or Structure = Boundaries
In the beginning, I did readings for mostly friends, and friends of friends, and sometimes a frenemy from a previous life. I’d put out calls on my newsletter or Instagram or Facebook, and the curious few would send a DM. Most readings took place at my apartment, or their apartment, or a bar. There was always a hosting aspect. The scheduling required many back and forth messages to find a date, time and place. I loved how social it was, but it also felt like I was planning an endless string of first dates. Dates in which I talked a lot, but didn’t get to share about myself. This went on for years, even after the amount I was charging became more formalized.
Lockdown in March 2020 forced the readings, like everything, onto Zoom. Though there are some astrologers who thrive as the sage who lives atop the mountain, I’m not one of those people. I’m horrible at making friends online and much prefer IRL connections. But moving my business online provided something crucial: boundaries. When a reading ends in person, there’s always an excuse to hang around, even when I’m exhausted. I love being with people! Who can turn down an offer for another glass of wine??? But on Zoom, when the reading ends, so does the meeting. I can close the window and walk away.
The other structure that saved me was scheduling software. I can’t believe I functioned without it. This solved the problem of scheduling, but also the problem of payment. All readings must be paid in advance. A concept I was terrified to enforce for a long time. Now my scheduler handles the transaction. Gone are the days of intense performance anxiety, worrying that the client might think my show wasn’t impressive enough for pay. I’m good at singing for my supper, but doing that while providing a luxury service is tough. I understand some people prefer things to be less formal and more friendly, but these boundaries facilitate a sacred exchange. A reading can be a friend date, but it also needs to be a safe container. For all parties. Including me.
Intuition > Preparation
Friends and clients often say to me, “You must prepare so much for a reading. I can’t imagine.”
But the truth is: I don’t.
Yes, at certain points in my practice, I couldn’t do it without taking hours of notes, poring over a new technique, or re-reading several chapters of a textbook to find the right tiny nugget of wisdom. And yes, in certain cases—like in Solar Returns or trying to find a good launch or wedding date—I run a lot of numbers. But that’s not where the magic happens. Clarity happens in movement, not data saturation.
For the first 100 readings or so, I hand drew everyone’s chart—choosing specific colors for the natal promise, adorning the image with poetic phrases that matched the vibe. I wanted each person to see their chart as a portrait. In those early days, I wasn’t so fluent in timing techniques and was still seeing how transits really worked in practice. So drawing the chart, taking note of the natal planets and aspects, was the bulk of my preparation. I’d tap into the theta waves as I drew, gaining insights and regulating my nervous system. As time went on, things got more technical, and I’d come to sessions with lists upon lists of dates and times. For a few years, I tried way too hard to math my way into predictive genius.
But the truth is: when I focus too hard on the numbers, my insights always fall flat. Readings are easiest when I forego the technical minutiae and tap into my intuition instead. I do my best when I trust I’m already prepared.
There was a reading I did a few years ago during a marathon of sessions around the new year. A new client came to me on recommendation from a friend. In the first moments of sitting together in the Zoom room, I brought up their chart and they politely let me know that I entered their birth information wrong. The month and date were correct, but the year was a decade off. I had done an uncharacteristically large amount of prep with very wrong information. Instead of panicking, I trusted my years of study and expertise. I updated the info and dove into the real chart. What followed was maybe my most natural conversation with a new client ever. My mistake brought humility into the room, and from there, we found flow. The new chart also made so much more sense with the client’s questions from their intake form. Things felt vulnerable and lived in. Ideal for everyone.
This is not to say that I’m against preparation There’s a time and place for it. Especially when someone needs specific dates. But beyond the data, if my energetic hygiene isn’t on point, I will crash. So what do I to prepare? I take walks. Clean my space. Wake up early and eat a nice meal if I have a morning session. Stay hydrated. When my head is in a good place, I can open the chart and hear it sing.
Everyone wants to know two things: “When?” and “Why?”
To abide by fortune telling laws in the state of New York, I’m legally bound to inform you that my services are for entertainment purposes only. But most people who book astrology readings are seeking not entertainment. They want a different kind of drama. Catharsis. Clients want all kinds of things: affirmation, reflection, a guidepost. But not a song and dance. Not a distraction. But no matter how ready the person is to receive, how tangled in thought they are, there are only two questions: “When?” and “Why?”
i.e. “When will I get the job / find the love / have the kids / get out of this mess / feel better / enter a new era / When should I get married / When do I launch the project?”
“Why am I like this / Why did this happen / Why can’t I let go?”
It’s my job as an astrologer to discern what the client is ready to hear. Astrology offers images and timing that can lead to that catharsis. To ideas. To resolution. But only if you’re ready to hear it.
Anyone who knows me well knows I’m too Libra rising to work in absolutes. But I’ve had many clients come up to me months or years later to thank me for kindly delivering a hard truth. I’d never put something as bluntly as “Get out of that relationship” or “Quit that job immediately,” but clients often remember me saying things that directly. Usually because that’s what they wanted or perhaps needed to hear. That’s how intuitions collaborate. And that’s why, as fun as it can be, I take this job very seriously. Because people ask me questions and listen to what I have to say.
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Presence is Everything / Meet the Moment
I never planned to build a business as a consulting astrologer. My intention in hanging out my shingle wasn’t to make this into a career. At the time, I was frustrated and disillusioned, and ready for a change. I wanted to fill my time doing things I actually like to do. I was meeting the moment.
Now, a Saturn square later, I want to reclaim that initial spark. Though my skills have improved and my knowledge has grown exponentially over the last seven years, I’ve felt stagnant in my work for a while now. For a few years there, I was trying to forcibly fit myself into someone else’s box. Developing projects and offerings based on what I thought I “should” do. Some of that came from survival mode. But I’ve outgrown trying to fit into what someone else thinks an astrology career should be. I began my practice with Saturn in Capricorn. So much of it has been about the long game, architecture, building a structure that can last. But now Saturn is in Aries, and it’s clear I need to do things my way.
I love to collaborate. My previous life was in theater, and I did that for so long because I love working on projects and making friends. I love to encourage others through their risks and pivots and breakthroughs. These things will always be true about my work. Now I’m ready to shape shift. Things can evolve because the core is strong.
What I’ve learned through 600 astrology readings is that to run a successful business or to do anything that I love, I need to: embrace structure, trust my intuition, know my audience, and pivot when necessary. I think I knew this all along, but I also think life is a constant process of remembering. I was out at sea for awhile, but now I’m coming back home.