On Retrogrades
On Retrogrades
By Jennylynn Jankesh
At the time of this writing, Mercury, Saturn, Neptune, and Pluto are all in retrograde. A cosmic signal that life may feel slower, glitchier, or more uncertain than usual. I often notice an instinctive groan of anticipated struggle from within whenever I hear a retrograde is approaching or worse, when I realize I’ve missed checking the planetary calendar and find myself already deep in one. It seems to explain a lot about those times when my flow feels stagnant and nothing seems to be going my way. But if I take a step back and think like a retrograde, these periods hold a different kind of power. They invite us to remember, review, and reset. What if new beginnings during retrograde are actually invitations to:
Realize. Reassess. Regroup. Reorganize. Reengage. Recap. Renew. Rebuild. Rethink. Revisit. Rewrite. Reconnect. Reimagine. Reclaim. Restart. Reframe. Reflect. Resilience. Revelation. Renewal. Respect. Recognition. Redemption. Revamp. Reinvent. Remix. Reignite. Reshape. Refine. Repose. Reverie. Realm. Revival. Reverence. Resonance. Remedy.
All words starting with “RE”, just like Retrograde. Hmmm, there’s a connection there, isn’t there?
Growth unfolds when we release resistance to backward cycles, allowing shifts to guide steady movement that transforms into continuous forward flow. Ever changing form, like water and my element as a double Pisces, Aries rising. Water & Fire; a rare combo astrologers say where water wants to flow, and fire wants to ignite. These two elements don’t always naturally blend; one tempers the other. It creates a dynamic tension between who I am on the inside and how I project myself on the outside, and even emotionally manage and regulate. I am one who often feels the flux deeply, and being human, I too can feel stuck in an endless cosmic negotiation somewhere between a calm and chaos when retrogrades are also in their flow, causing our flux.
So how to help ourselves navigate the waters during a retrograde?
I recently heard water rises to meet water — it meets itself where it’s at. If water approaches from another angle, say from above, it becomes a waterfall or a deluge. But for water to truly flow, it must meet you where you are. Think about it, visualize it, water moves around its obstacles; under, over, and around and sometimes it even moves the obstacle itself. If we think of the ego as that obstacle (which it often is), then releasing control allows us to become fluid. When we let go, we can meet our own waters, and in that meeting, we can finally flow.
Easier said than done, always. The ego, like a stubborn rock in a rushing river, resists surrender. It clings to its hold because control feels safe, predictable. Letting go is scary because the unknown is uncharted territory for us where the current might pull you under or carry you too somewhere unfamiliar. But the beauty of water is that it doesn’t fight its path; it surrenders to gravity, to flow, to the journey itself.
Our challenge is to cultivate that same trust within ourselves. One where I am listening more intently to my inner wisdom. To practice patience when I get stuck, to gently remind myself that resistance only creates friction and tension. True flow arises not from forcing movement, but from allowing the waters within to find its natural course, even if it means pausing, circling back, or carving new paths altogether.
And sometimes, just sometimes, by loosening our grip, we find that the obstacle dissolves. Over time that flow of water will erode the rock, smooth out its edges, make it easier to maneuver around because our relationship to it has changed. We become less rigid, less reactive, more fluid. And in that space, we can meet ourselves fully, in all our complexities and contradictions, but instead of resistance, we observe, we say “Universe, take the wheel” and finally, flow.