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Ceres and Pluto are exactly conjunct at 0°24’ Aquarius on December 8, 2024 at 4:42 AM PDT. This time of year is always challenging for me, as it is for a lot of people. I struggle with the darkness that comes with the end of autumn. It feels like an endless descent no matter what I have going on. I grew up with one parent who hated Christmas and another who didn’t celebrate it growing up, so the season is full of memories that aren’t exactly happy. When I was 40 my Dad died over the holidays, and though I try every year to overcome my own family’s history, I inevitably find myself counting down the days until New Year’s Eve, which is my favourite holiday of the year.
Ceres is the (dwarf) planet associated with practical sustenance, nurturing (mothering, particularly), women’s life transitions, agriculture, and the Greek myth of Demeter. Pluto is the planet associated with death, the Underworld, fallow times, destruction and subsequent transformation. To have Ceres conjunct Pluto in the sign of Aquarius, the sign which rules humanitarian impulses, structured communities, innovative systems, and the evolutionary drive to improve the human condition reminds me once again of how astrology really is all about timing. We are provided with the circumstances we need, at the right time, for the lessons we are destined for.
Under a Ceres/Pluto transit, we see in stark terms how critically important it is to tend to the practical needs for all humans required to obtain the necessities of life. I feel compelled to remind readers that I’m not American and don’t typically write about what’s called mundane astrology, though I’m aware of the many social and political events that one would be wise to attribute to Pluto’s recent ingress into Aquarius. Robert Wilkinson’s website Aquarius Papers is a good starting point, for readers interested in learning more about mundane astrology.
The myth of Ceres (Demeter) for those who don’t know it is one of unspeakable loss, separation, and eventually, imperfect unification. A mother (Demeter/Ceres) loses her beloved daughter (Persephone/Proserpina) after she is abducted and dragged to the Underworld, which is ruled by Pluto. It is her fury and vengeful mourning which eventually brings her daughter back to her for part of the year; crops will die and everyone else will starve if Ceres cannot see her daughter for at least part of the year.
With Ceres and Pluto conjunct, enemies are forced to contend with one another. In the sign of Aquarius, our desire to feed and provide for our loved ones feel critically important and we feel furious if met with systemic social indifference. Our righteous anger towards blasé governments, inhumane corporate practices, and environmentally destructive food production systems feels intolerable. We feel the rage that Ceres felt, when her beloved daughter was stolen from her to satiate the selfish, carnal impulses of Pluto. We believe we can’t compromise with an enemy, yet we’re increasingly compelled by forces outside of us to bear witness to grim circumstances when we don’t at least try to understand what compromise might look like. It doesn’t feel just or fair. It feels infuriating in a way that sickens us. There’s no way out, is how many of us feel. You don’t have to sleep with the enemy, so to speak, in order to understand what compromise means on a wider scale. We understand the destructiveness of Pluto a little better, if we understand how and when destruction became the preferred option to equilibrium.
Ceres/Pluto feels destitute, hungry, and very stark. It may feel impossible to even pretend to have hope. We follow our maudlin tendencies like it’s our paid profession. Darkness is interminable; the light will never return. We are breathless in our assurances that this is it, nothing good will come our way ever again. We will always be unloved, unhappy, or broke in spirit or finances; it doesn’t matter which. We will always be the thing we don’t want to be. We will never have the thing that we want to have. Always, never, always, never: the polarity of our needs and our desires keeps us feeling trapped until we consciously decide we can and must free ourselves.
Ceres/Pluto in Aquarius requires we cultivate the traits we wish to see in the world around us. We must tend to these traits like they are alive, biodynamic entities separate from our own capacity for manipulation. In order to receive compassion, we must actively be compassionate. We must actively consider the needs of others, in order to have our needs met. We must strive to embody interconnectedness. We must not shrink from that which we consider undesirable or beneath us. I can hear many readers now: I already do this. I am a good, caring, compassionate person. Pluto doesn’t care about what you think you’re doing, even if it’s factual; Pluto possesses a destructive drive that can’t be stopped or manipulated, which is why when one of my original astrology teachers told me ‘you can’t prepare for a Pluto transit,’ I listened.
We don’t know where we are headed, as a species. We can’t possibly understand all of the forces at play, globally or psychically. Ceres/Pluto in Aquarius marks the descent into one of the darkest times of humanity in the digital age. Aquarius and its modern day ruler Uranus rule technology. Artificial intelligence can and does ruin lives, we now know. It ruins ecosystems of all types. Coercive technology is a Pluto in Aquarius theme that I’ll write more about as I am called to do, and for sake of brevity I won’t in this newsletter. I try to offer hope as I write these newsletters, and I don’t want to leave anyone feeling bereft. So I remind you of the importance of understanding the Ceres/Demeter myth: where there is darkness, there is light. Where there is hunger, there is sustenance. Where there is imprisonment, there is autonomy. Our spirits will never be broken completely, because they exist independently of our physical bodies. Down but not out, as the saying goes.
Ceres/Pluto teaches us that everything living must die in order to really live. Aquarius encourages us to embrace the weirdness of the unknown. “One advantage of the detachment of Aquarius is that it allows [us] time to develop [our] unique perspective,” writes Gina Lake.1 Of the death-becomes-life duality of Pluto, Isabel Hickey shares that “All growth must begin its life in the dark…Pluto represents that life in the dark.”2
Pluto in Aquarius will bring what feels like an endless parade of lessons regarding our communal goals and objectives. Attempts to be neutral will be difficult, during contentious times. We can’t be friends with everyone, without risking becoming a friend to no one. Aquarius may be viewed as independent, but it’s so tightly connected to humanity, I don’t fully believe this. Its traditional ruler is Saturn, and Saturn embodies well-connected, big boss energy. All leaders have received mentorship in some way, whether it’s through adverse experiences or saturation in the socio-familial fabric. You don’t become a leader like Aquarius by staying solo. You do, however, must contend with the unceasing impulse to break free. Ceres conjunct Pluto in this sign ultimately asks you to sit with the impulse, in order to connect to your fellow humans whose suffering from which they cannot yet escape.
Lake, Gina. “The Evolution of the Signs.” Symbols of the Soul: Discovering Your Karma Through Astrology, Llewellyn Publications, St. Paul, MN, USA, 2000, p. 88.
Hickey, Isabel M. “Pluto Discovered.” Astrology: A Cosmic Science, CRCS Publications, Sebastopol, CA, USA, 1992, p. 287.
and they’re trining Sedna in Gemini! (and my moon)
wonderful work. thank you for making this essay available ✨🙏🏼