Man, thinking back to March 2019, that was quite a ride. Especially with all the Virgo stuff I got myself into. You know how sometimes you just feel like you’re searching for something, some kind of compass? Well, that was me, big time. I remember that winter, things just felt… off. Like the gears of life weren’t meshing right. My usual ways of figuring things out, my go-to routines, they just weren’t cutting it anymore. I needed a new perspective, something to hold onto, something to help me make sense of the constant churn.
See, what happened was, I’d just gone through a pretty rough patch. It wasn’t anything dramatic, just a slow creep of uncertainty and a whole lot of feeling stuck. My career felt stalled, personal relationships were a bit muddled, and my energy levels were in the basement. Every day felt like I was walking through fog, trying to grasp at something solid. I wasn’t just looking for answers; I was looking for a way to ask better questions, if that makes sense.
A good friend of mine, she’s always been a bit more, shall we say, cosmically inclined than me, kept nudging me. “You should really look into your signs,” she’d say, “especially for this month, for what’s happening with Virgo. There’s a lot going on.” I was pretty skeptical, not gonna lie. I mean, horoscopes were just fun little blurbs in magazines, right? But at that point, I was desperate enough to try anything that sounded remotely like it could offer a glimmer of clarity. So, I figured, why not? What did I have to lose?
My Dive Into the Cosmos (for Myself)
I started digging. Not just skimming articles online, mind you. I mean, a proper deep dive. I pulled out old astrology books my aunt gave me years ago, ones I’d never even cracked open. Dusty old things, full of symbols and strange diagrams. I spent evenings just reading, cross-referencing, trying to make sense of what Venus in Aries meant for a Virgo that week, or how the new moon was shaping things. It felt like learning a whole new language, and sometimes, my brain just hurt trying to connect all the dots.
I grabbed a fresh notebook – you know, one of those nice Moleskine ones, felt a bit fancy and serious, which was good because I needed to take this seriously, for myself – and started scribbling. This wasn’t about making some official, polished guide for anyone else; this was purely for me, my own personal roadmap for March 2019. I’d jot down general Virgo traits for the month, what they typically struggle with, what their strengths were, and then I’d break it down week by week. What planet was where? What “energy” was supposedly floating around in the cosmic ether? I’d look at the moon phases, the aspects, the whole nine yards.
- Week 1: Early March Energy. I noted down the general themes – organization, details, health, and service, typical Virgo stuff. But also how external pressures might be making Virgos feel extra critical or overwhelmed. I felt that big time.
- Week 2: Mid-March Shifts. I really focused on the planetary movements here. I remember Mercury being a big deal that month, and I tried to track its ingressions and retrogrades. When Mercury, which rules Virgo, was changing signs or going retrograde, I’d write down how that was supposedly going to affect communication and decision-making.
- Week 3: Approaching the Equinox. This was a big one. As the sun moved into Aries and we hit the equinox, it felt like a shift in gears. I wrote about how that fiery Aries energy might clash or merge with Virgo’s more grounded nature. It was all about balance.
- Week 4: Month’s End Reflections. I’d review the whole month, connecting the dots between the astrological forecasts I’d noted down and my actual daily experiences.
And then, crucial for me, how did I feel that day, or what happened that day, that seemed to connect with what I was reading? It wasn’t about predicting the future, not really. It was more about observing my reality through a different lens. I’d write things like, “Tuesday: Venus squared Saturn. Felt a real pushback at work, like trying to move a brick wall. Classic Saturn vibes, huh? Felt totally undervalued.” Or “Thursday: Mercury entered Pisces. My brain felt totally scattered, couldn’t focus on details. Like everything was a bit dreamy, blurry. Misplaced my keys twice.” I was essentially creating my own little real-time log, mapping my internal and external world onto these astrological movements.
What I Actually Got Out of It
What I found, surprisingly, wasn’t some magical revelation that solved all my problems. Far from it. My life didn’t suddenly become perfect. What it did give me was a framework. A different way to look through the fog. Instead of just feeling “bad” or “confused” or “frustrated,” I started to articulate it, even if it was just to myself in that notebook, like, “Okay, according to this, the cosmos is doing X, and this is how it might be influencing me to feel Y.” It wasn’t an excuse, but a way to categorize the feelings, to understand that sometimes, things just are a certain way, and it’s not always about personal failure or a flaw in my character.
It helped me decouple my self-worth from daily frustrations. If Mercury was in a rough patch and I was having communication glitches, instead of beating myself up for not being clear enough, I’d just note it down as “Mercury vibes” and try to be extra, extra explicit the next time. If I felt overwhelmed by details, I’d remember that Virgo’s natural inclination to hyper-focus on specifics was being amplified by some planetary alignment, and I’d consciously try to zoom out a bit. It was a subtle shift in perspective, but a profoundly powerful one for my mindset.
By the end of March 2019, that notebook was full of chicken scratch, weird astrological symbols, and very personal notes about my day-to-day. I never published that “guide” anywhere, never showed it to anyone. It was my own little secret project, my own personal astrology lab. But man, did it help me navigate that particular period of uncertainty. It taught me to pay more attention, not just to the stars, but to myself, to my reactions, and to find structure in what felt like chaos, even if it was a structure I made up as I went along. And sometimes, that’s exactly what you need to get through. Just a different way to look at things, to feel a little more grounded when the ground feels like it’s shifting.
