Today, the Sun finishes its month-long journey through the airy, yang, and progressive sign of Aquarius and moves into dreamy, watery, compassionate Pisces. It’ll stay here until the Spring Equinox on March 20th.

This is a total atmospheric shift. We’re moving out of the headspace of Aquarius—which is all about the big picture and the future—and sinking into the heart-space of the Fishes. In your body, this feels like a softening. The sharp edges of the last month start to blur, and you might notice you’re feeling a little more sensitive, a little more porous, and a lot more intuitive.

Because Pisces is the sign that wraps up the entire zodiac, it’s the final chapter that prepares us for a whole new year once the Sun moves into Aries next month. This gives Pisces a heavy, liminal, transitional vibe—it’s the space between what was and what’s next. This season closes out the year in a hazy, reflective, and deeply emotional way. It’s less about doing and more about being. It’s a time to let the dust settle, feel what needs to be felt, and surrender the things we don’t need to carry into the new year.

In honor of the season and to better understand the feels of this super feely time, let’s dive into the mythology that Pisces is rooted in. By getting to know the story of the fish, we can better navigate the mystical month ahead.

Pisces is the 12th and final sign of the zodiac. It sits at the very end of the line, right before the astrological New Year begins at the Equinox. Because it’s the "omega," Pisces carries the weight and the wisdom of the eleven signs that came before it.

One way to think about it is as the “Great Dissolve”. If the rest of the zodiac is about building an ego, a career, and a life, Pisces is the ocean that eventually washes over the sandcastle. It’s where we let go of who we are to remember what we are. It’s the spiritual reset button before we burst back into life with Aries in the spring.

The mythology of Pisces starts with a survival story. When the terrifying monster Typhon—the literal embodiment of chaos—attacked the gods, Aphrodite (Love) and her son Eros (Desire) had to find a way out.

They didn’t fight; they transformed. They became two fish and dove into the deep waters of the Euphrates River. To make sure they didn't lose each other in the dark, rushing currents, they tied a silver cord between their tails.

This is why we see the symbol of the two fish swimming in opposite directions but forever linked. It’s a myth about how love and connection are the only things that keep us tethered when the world feels like it's falling apart.

Looking closer at those two fish, the symbolism is heavy. Because they swim in opposite directions, they represent a dual reality:

The Pisces struggle is the tension of being a spiritual being having a very loud, very human experience. The fish tell us that we don't have to choose one or the other; we are the cord that connects them.

To really get the vibe, you have to look at what fish actually represent in the psyche. In almost every ancient culture, water is the symbol for the unconscious mind- the deep, dark, swirling parts of ourselves we don’t fully see.

If the ocean is the mind, the fish are the thoughts. They are the specific insights or "aha" moments that suddenly surface from the depths. And because fish are silent, they represent inner wisdom- those truths that are so deep they can’t be put into words. This is why Pisces energy is so tied to psychics, artists, and anyone who channels their reality rather than just living it.

Long before the Greeks, the Babylonians saw this constellation as Kullat Nu-nu, or The Fish-Cord. To them, the two fish represented the life-giving Tigris and Euphrates rivers. The cord tying them together wasn't just for safety; it was a symbol of binding the heavens to the earth. It’s a reminder that even when we’re deep in our feels, we are still tethered to the world around us. We aren't just floating away; we’re anchored.

As the 12th and final sign, the fish ultimately represent dissolution. Think about the journey of the zodiac: for the last 11 signs, we’ve been busy building an identity (Aries), gathering security (Taurus), and seeking power (Leo).

But when we hit Pisces, the fish swim back into the great ocean of the collective. It’s the symbol of the soul returning to its source before being reborn. Pisces asks us to let go of the I for a moment and become part of the All. It’s the ultimate cosmic reset.

The Piscean window of time isn't limited to a thirty-day window in February and March. We’re actually at the tail end of a massive 2,000-year historical cycle known as the Age of Pisces.

An "Astrological Age" lasts roughly 2,150 years, and it flavors the entire span of human history it's associated with. For the last two millennia, we have been swimming in the Piscean era. You can see its signature everywhere:

As we slowly transition into the Age of Aquarius (remember, astrological ages move backwards through the zodiac), we are effectively in the liminal space between these two eras.

This is likely one reason our world feels so chaotic right now—the old Piscean ways of merging and believing are shifting into something more intellectual, tech-driven, and collective. Using this month to honor the Pisces archetype is a powerful way to integrate what the last 2,000 years were trying to teach us: that we are never as separate as we think we are. Before we move fully into the air-centered future of Aquarius, we have to finish the work of the heart.

When we talk about Pisces as an archetype, we aren't just talking about a constellation. We’re talking about a primal drive within the human psyche.

Just as Pisces represents the liminal space between cycles—that "in-between" season where one year is over but the next hasn’t yet begun—the archetype lives in a very specific place in the body.

Somatically, Pisces is that liminal state right before falling asleep. It’s that heavy, melty moment where the edges of your body start to feel less like a container and more like a bridge. You are no longer fully here, but you aren’t gone yet either. You are suspended in the fluid transition between two worlds, mirroring the way this month sits between the ending of the winter and the spark of the new year.

This physical sensation is actually the drive to merge. It’s important to distinguish this from the Scorpio drive, which seeks a deep, intense union with another person. The Pisces drive is universal. It is a craving for transcendence- the soul’s urge to move past its own ego boundaries and return to the Source.

From a transpersonal perspective, this drive leads to a state where you recognize no separation. It’s the feeling you get when you’re so lost in a sunset or a piece of music that the you part of the equation disappears. You realize, on a cellular level, that you are part of the All.

This isn't just dreamy; it’s a radical act of empathy. In a world that constantly asks us to build walls and stay in our own lanes, the Pisces archetype allows us to look at the world and feel its interconnectedness as a literal, felt reality.

Because this archetype is about the dissolution of boundaries, the psyche becomes incredibly porous. You aren't just observing the world; you are absorbing it.

The work here isn't to build a wall, but to find the internal anchor. It’s about utilizing that Silver Cord- staying tethered to your physical center while allowing your consciousness to expand into the universal.

Pisces season is the final breath of the astrological year. It’s the time to stop "doing" and start "being" so you can clear the slate for the fire of the Spring Equinox. Here is how to best harness this liminal energy:

Before we hit the reset button in Aries, give yourself permission to drift. Lean into the silence, get lost in the music, and trust that the "All" has you exactly where you need to be.

Welcome to Pisces Season.

To help you navigate the porous boundaries of this season, take some time to sit with these questions. Don't think your way through them—try to feel your way through them.