Neptune at the Threshold of Aries and Pisces

Between Sea and Flame: Mythic Reflections on Neptune’s Passage from Pisces to Aries

We’re in a liminal space—a cosmic tide between the last degree of Pisces and the beginning of Aries. Neptune has already crossed the threshold into Aries, but it will return once more to Pisces, hovering at 29º before entering Aries again and staying for the long haul. The door is open, and we're standing in the in-between: part sea mist, part rising flame.

In modern astrology, Neptune is often paired with Pisces, but I work with traditional rulerships—Pisces is the domain of Jupiter. Neptune’s connection to Pisces, while popular, doesn’t speak to me in the same way. Neptune is not a gentle mystic for me. He’s oceanic, yes, but not necessarily peaceful. He’s the crashing wave, the flooded cave, the spirit of something vast and unknowable.

Poseidon’s Fire: Neptune in Aries

To understand Neptune in Aries, we need to leave behind the dreamy mermaid associations and meet a wilder, more tempestuous version of this planet: Poseidon.

Poseidon, god of the sea and earthquakes, brother to Zeus and Hades, is known not for serenity but for storms. He creates horses, splits mountains, curses sailors, and shakes the earth. He doesn’t wait to be invited in—he arrives with force.

Poseidon’s myths are laced with fire beneath the water. When he competed with Athena to become the patron deity of Athens, he struck his trident into the earth and created a saltwater spring. Athena’s olive tree was deemed more valuable, and he lost the contest, but the act itself was pure Aries energy: dramatic, instinctual, powerful. He didn’t negotiate—he declared.

In another myth, when the Trojans angered him, Poseidon sided with the Greeks and sent sea monsters and earthquakes to their shores. When enraged, he was known to flood cities or withdraw the sea entirely, leaving ships stranded and armies vulnerable. His presence was never passive. It was always a signal: the gods are moving, and so must you.

This version of Neptune fits Aries like salt fits blood. The watery spirit is no longer floating in the background. It’s rising, urgent, and undeniable. When Neptune moves through Aries, it doesn’t dissolve—it asserts. It doesn’t escape—it challenges.

This is a spiritual tide turning. We're being asked to listen to the undercurrents of instinct, anger, and spiritual courage. Not all sacred energy is soft—some of it strikes like a wave. Some of it demands to be lived through the body, the voice, the action.

Back and Forth at the Threshold

With Neptune weaving between Pisces and Aries in the coming months, we’re being pulled between surrender and assertion, dissolution and emergence. The 29th degree of Pisces is saturated, sacred, and final—a point of endings, sometimes confusion, and sometimes transcendence.

This is a rare invitation to experience a planet between worlds. To reflect on what the last Neptune-in-Pisces era has meant in your life, not through idealism or exhaustion, but through mythic perspective and lived experience.

The Sacred Grief of Isis and Nephthys

If Neptune in Aries speaks through Poseidon’s fire, then Neptune in Pisces lingers in the mystery and mourning of Isis and Nephthys. These two sisters—one luminous, one shadowed—are priestesses of threshold spaces. They carry the soul work of Pisces: dissolution, sacrifice, and the magic of reconstitution.

Their story begins in rupture. Osiris, god of regeneration and rightful king, is betrayed and murdered by his brother Set. In an act of chaotic dominance, Set tears Osiris’s body into pieces and scatters them across the land. The body is dismembered. The cosmos is wounded.

Isis, the devoted wife and sorceress-queen, begins her long and painful journey to recover him. But she is not alone. Nephthys, sister of both Isis and Set, joins her—not in innocence, but in conscious defiance. Though married to the murderer, Nephthys refuses complicity. She chooses the soul over the structure, love over allegiance.

Together, they become ritual mourners and sacred restorers. Their search for Osiris is both literal and symbolic: a quest to reclaim the divine from destruction, to stitch spirit back into form.

Nephthys guards the gateways of death; Isis breathes life into what remains.

When all the fragments are recovered, Isis uses her magical arts to temporarily resurrect Osiris—not to return him to the living, but to transform him into the sovereign of the underworld. In this liminal space between death and rebirth, she conceives Horus/Egyptian version of Jupiter, the falcon god who will one day reclaim the throne.

This is not a simple resurrection myth—it is a map of sacred grief. A devotional path walked by those who tend to what has been lost. A ritual of feminine power, where intuition, mourning, and mystic craft become acts of cosmic restoration.

This is the story Neptune tells at 29º Pisces to me: a final labor of love before the tide turns.

Not a dream—but a rite.

Not an escape—but the holy task of re-membering what has been broken.

What Comes Next

As Neptune prepares to enter Aries for good, we’re walking through this myth in real time.

We’ve gathered fragments. We’ve felt the salt of mourning. We’ve remembered the magic.

Now the wind shifts, and the sea begins to boil.

Neptune in Aries won’t wait for permission. It doesn’t linger in longing. It acts. It may be a call to spiritual rebellion, to creative ferocity, to a new kind of mythic leadership—where your intuition doesn’t just guide you, it moves you.

This isn’t about healing forever. It’s about carrying the wound with purpose.

It’s time we meet the god of the sea at the crossroads of fire.