I have a bifurcated work life.  (bi·fur·cate (b f r-k t , b -fûr -). v. bi·fur·cat·ed, bi·fur·cat·ing, bi·fur·cates. v.tr. To divide into two parts or branches.)  

As many of you know, I have a real estate business and I have an astrology practice.  That’s not surprising because I have Gemini rising – the sign of the twins governing the arena of my persona.  I am happiest when I am living in two worlds at once.

The conjunction of Chiron and Neptune has been wandering back and forth over my Midheaven, which is the point of the chart at which we find our place in the world.  When Neptune crossed my Midheaven the first time, along with Chiron at about 26-27 degrees, I decided to quit the real estate business.  With the market tanking anyway, it seemed like the perfect time.  Beliefnet picked up my blog, everything was moving forward in that direction.  Finally I could do astrology full-time.  I had little interest in the kind of left-brain efforts required to run a business, I just wanted to do readings all day long (Neptune) and pursue a path of healing and helping others to heal (Chiron).

Then Chiron and Neptune retrograded, going back over my Midheaven last spring and summer.  Suddenly I didn’t want to do anything but play music.  I cut my reading schedule way back, and continued to enjoy the slow real estate market.  I was living a life of Neptune: meditation, music, yoga, daydreaming (fortunately I have a healthy savings account thanks to Jupiter in Taurus).   My usual workaholic self was nowhere to be found.

Then Neptune and Chiron turned direct, once again within a few days of each other, and just as suddenly I find myself throwing myself back into the world of business.  The fog  lifted, and I longed for the opportunity to organize something.  Neptune and Chiron will remain within a degree of my Midheaven throughout November and December, which will hopefully give me an opportunity to integrate the realm of spirit (Neptune) into both branches of my work life, allowing the wisdom of the healing path (Chiron) to penetrate all aspects of my world.

I thought about this as I read April Elliot Kent’s experience with Neptune turning direct, which mirrors my own so closely:

My individual Neptune matrix had gotten ensnared in a more pervasive and universal fog. The outer planets inch along at such a glacial pace, and stay retrograde for so long, that it’s easy to overlook their stations. But what they lack in activity, these planets more than make up for in heft.  Fleet little Mercury turning retrograde or direct is irritating, yes, but it’s like a goldfish that’s jumped out of its bowl and is flopping back and forth on the table; just pick it up and toss it back in the water, and that’s that. Neptune turning retrograde or direct, on the other hand, is more like a whale that’s beached itself, and it often requires valiant efforts to push it back out to sea.

Today, my inner sky began to clear. I woke refreshed, leaped into the shower, and prepared to take off later today for a few days of R&R.  The fog has lifted, and my great white whale has pushed itself back out to sea where it belongs. For now.

The Neptunian fog has a purpose: it helps us to see where we are too entrenched in the details of the material world.   If we use these Neptunian times to open up to that transcendent influence and embrace it, we can navigate through the fog with greater ease and  be transformed as a result.