Saturn as Liberation
Born under a Capricorn Sun just one degree above a Capricorn Ascendant, Saturn is an important part of who and how I am. In traditional astrology, the planet that rules our rising sign offers insight into the direction we move. I have Saturn in Pisces at the helm of my chart, the figurehead of a mergoat meticulously carved into the bow of my vessel.
When I first publicly launched my astrological practice, Mercury was an important symbol of my brand. While I still love the fluid, playful, and quick-witted nature of the planet of communication, my Saturn return has revealed that the core of my astro practice is more Saturnian than Mercurial. I have not yet crossed the threshold of my first Saturn return, but I’m getting close. Central to my experience is this process of seeing Saturn as an archetype of liberation.
Saturn is considered a malefic planet by traditional astrologers, alongside Mars. It’s associated with limits, frustration, patience, coldness, boundaries, mastery, extremity, and structure. The glyph for Saturn includes a scythe, a representation of its agricultural significations. Saturn governs farmers and gardeners, people who know when and how to reap what they sow. Saturn is a reflection of Kronos, the Greek god of time and harvest. Yes, his mythos includes swallowing his children to avoid being overthrown (delays are very Saturnian) but he also brought peaceful abundance to the first generation of humans.
Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash
In my Saturn studies, I return again and again to Liz Greene’s book Saturn: A New Look at an Old Devil. The 1984 copy that I found at a used book store depicts Saturn as a man with horns, donned in flowing robes, and holding a chalice spilling over with water and an illuminated lantern. The reference to the Hermit in tarot is undeniable - solitary, eyes downcast, a sun of enlightenment blazing behind his head. This illustration does not depict Saturn as alone, however. He’s surrounded by a scene of snakes curling around branches of fruit and battling a creature that’s a cross between a fish, dragon and bird.
Saturn’s eyes are not open to this scene. He is centered, even in chaos.
Liz Greene is a Humanistic astrologer, so her writing is contextualized within Jungian psychology. Astrology is a practice with many possible lenses, so it’s important to consider hers when engaging with her work. I find it to be very useful when exploring my own psychological relationship with Saturn.
At a cursory glance, Saturn seems to represent more challenge than construction. My friends about to enter their Saturn return tell me they’re scared of what will happen. Fear is a Saturnian emotion, just as moving through fear towards deeper self-understanding is a Saturnian process. One that requires commitment.
What is the purpose of fear? Of delays? Of pain? Liz Greene asserts “…it is not enjoyment of pain which Saturn fosters, but rather the exhilaration of psychological freedom.”
Freedom as a Saturnian concept contradicted my understanding of freedom as a Jupiterian concept. Jupiter is the benefic planet of abundance and expansion. Freedom in the context of expansion seems more like Jupiter than Saturn. Freedom as expansion within capitalism is more like unchecked limits, the ability to act however you want regardless of consequences. Saturnian freedom is a reckoning of consequence, and a reframing of outcomes simply as is, rather than something inherently negative.
I took a Latin American Politics class in college and my professor distinguished freedom in two categories: freedom from and freedom to. In America, freedom is framed as the latter: freedom to free speech, freedom to practice religion. She explained how in Cuba, a country that Americans typically see as “unfree,” they frame freedom as freedom from. Their universal healthcare system is an example of how citizens have freedom from sickness. Freedom from medical debt. A kind of freedom deeply foreign to an American consciousness.
Liz Greene says: “There is nothing we hate so much as accepting responsibility for our actions and our fate, although man wants to desperately believe that he is free.”
We are not free until we are all free. We cannot truly enjoy our freedom if the consequences of our freedom is someone else’s chains or if freedom is contextualized in a wider scope of oppression. The path to liberation feels grueling because we have to walk with the weight of responsibility. Maybe if our perspective shifted, it would feel easier to carry. Would it even be heavy if everyone carried the consequences of their actions?
Boundaries are a Saturnian concept. A Saturn Return is a threshold of age — moving from early adulthood into middle adulthood. Physical boundaries keep our bodies safe. Emotional boundaries ensure that healthy love can flourish. Boundaries are containers — we need cups to drink, skin to keep our insides in place, and spaces to hold gatherings. When we know our limits, we are said to know ourselves.
Framing is everything. Perspective can dramatically shift how we experience Saturnian challenges. Liz Greene asserts that frustration “is the gift of Saturn.” I think about frustration whenever I see the square aspect in astrology. Squares are when two planets are around a 90° angle from each other. Squares are catalytic because tension often pushes us into action.
Saturn has associations with lead, the base metal according to ancient alchemists. It was believed that all gold originated from lead, leading alchemists to believe they could transform this base material into sparkling radiance. Alchemic processes are not instantly gratifying. They involve a lot of steps and a lot of time. Saturn doesn’t rule quick fixes because hasty solutions do not beget substance.
Saturn is foundational. Maybe that’s why Saturn returns can feel daunting — they present an opportunity to create something solid. Substantial. Sustainable. These are concepts that grind against the values of a capitalistic culture: prioritizing profit over people, instant gratification over lasting change, convenience over consciousness. Liz Greene argues that we struggle with Saturn because our culture does not want to contend with the challenges it governs. To do so would unthread the faulty stability of dominance.
This leads me to believe that Saturn is an effective archetype to channel when engaging in liberatory practices. And by liberatory practices, I mean the construction of alternative systems that prioritize the needs and dreams of the people; the actions that support revolution as a movement rather than a moment. With Saturn’s eye for structure and sustainability, liberation has the potential to be long-lasting.
If you’re interested and learning more about Saturn in astrology, I would highly recommend listening to “Saturn in Astrology,” an episode of The Astrology Podcast that heavily influenced this article.
Would you like to dive deeper into your natal Saturn? I offer Saturn Return readings — whether you’re in it, about to be in it, or have been in it, I approach these consultations with the ideological framework of Saturn as a liberatory force.
