How to Navigate the Fog of Mars Square Neptune

I am standing at a crossroads.
Actually, it’s more like a traffic circle.
Roads lead out in all directions.
Some paths are familiar.
I’ve travelled them before.
They offer a comfort and an ease.
The road is paved and the route is clearly marked.
I know what to expect: the landmarks and the views are familiar.
So are the potholes.
Some are not easy to avoid.
I wonder if the experience might be different if I traveled them with others.
I would have companions.

Other paths are less known, but still familiar in their own way.
They seem well-suited to give me security and safety.
Well-paved, with clear signs.
Even if parts are unfamiliar to me, plenty of people have traveled these paths.
Advice and guidance would be easy to solicit.
These routes cater to skills I’ve honed over the years.
They offer the comfort of doing something I’m good at.
They are easily identified and identifiable. As such, they offer the comfort of being known by others. It would take less energy to tell people what path I’m on, and where they could find me. That counts for something.

There is a third set of paths. These roads are not paved or even clearly marked. They are uncertain and unfamiliar. Choosing to navigate these paths will require work. Clearing weeds and wildflowers. Carving my own path through the underbrush. Setting up my own landmarks.
Making my way as I go. The contours of how these roads might shape out is uncertain. Amorphous.
They represent a stretch.
Or more like a departure.
They are not the paths I think of as being “for me.”.
These roads don’t seem to fit with the person I’ve always been.

But is the person I’ve always been the same person that I am now?
Should I be so quick to dismiss these paths just because they don’t seem, on the surface, to “fit” the image of me that I’ve cultivated for years?

As I stand at the traffic circle, a fog descends. I feel compelled to choose a path, but in the fog I cannot discern one path from another. The way forward isn’t completely clear.

Welcome to the energy of Mars square Neptune.

Today is the third and final installment of this square between Mars, the firey planet of action, and Neptune, the watery planet of illusion, dreams, and deception.

Mars has been in Gemini since August, which is a long time for a planet that likes to move fast. Neptune has been slowly floating through Pisces, where it is the modern ruler, for several years.

A square is a challenging aspect that often brings conflict or obstacles.

Some astrologers have described Mars square Neptune as “the fog of war.” On The Astrology Podcast, astrologer Leisa Schaim described this aspect as having a quality of being prodded to act but unsure which direction to take.

It resonated with me.

Mars is looking for a path, a way forward. It desires action and achievement. Neptune creates illusions and deceptions. With Neptune in play, we don’t know what we don’t know. Facts are hazy.

When these planets meet up, we might doubt the reliability of our information. What’s known isn’t certain. The way forward is unclear.

How to Work With Mars Square Neptune

When a thick fog descends, you don’t step on the gas at full speed.

This is a time to pull over. To stop. Perhaps get out of the vehicle.

And this is what I have been doing.

I get low to the ground.
I attune myself in the silence.
And then I listen.

I listen to what people tell me. And to what I tell them.

I listen to the shifts of energy in my physical body and the tone of my voice as topics arise in conversation.

I attune to the vibration I feel in connection and conversation with others. I listen to what is distracting me and to the vehicles I use to procrastinate.

I float ideas and theories into the world, and listen for the feedback. I watch what catches a wave and what sinks to the bottom.

At times, I pause to wonder or wander, to rest or reflect, to imagine or incubate.

I take it all in.

But I don’t rush a decision or set off in a particular direction.

Stepping full throttle on the gas in a dense fog doesn’t serve any objective. There’s no sense in rushing headfirst into something when visibility is zero.

Instead, I remain in the center of the circle, mediating my circumference.

I move slowly, feeling my way through the fog, until it lifts.

And I remind myself that this is just a transit.

I trust that the fog will lifts eventually, and that the way forward will become clear.