Man, March 2020. What a total dumpster fire. I still remember sitting there, glued to the TV, watching everything go sideways. Everyone I knew was freaking out about their jobs, their travel plans, and most of all, their goddamn health. I needed an anchor, some way to make sense of the incoming tidal wave of crap. That’s why I dug into this Virgo health thing. Not because I’m some starry-eyed believer, but because I needed a project, a practical record, something solid to focus on when the world was melting down.
I wasn’t looking for love or money advice; I was looking for a pre-mortem on my immune system. The official title, yeah, it sounds polished, but the reality of the practice was a total mess. It started because I was stuck home, trying to get a refund from some airline that had just ghosted me, and I needed to kill time before I lost my mind.
The Genesis: Why Health, Why Virgo, Why Then?
My buddy, a staunch Virgo, was in a panic. He’s usually rock-solid, but he was calling me every hour, rattling off symptoms he didn’t even have. So, I figured, let’s give him (and myself, a bordering-on-Virgo type) a distraction. I decided to run a complete chart for that specific month, focusing purely on health sectors. This wasn’t professional software; I was using a cheap online ephemeris and basically drawing the houses on a piece of paper, crossing stuff out as I went along.
First thing I did was pull all the positional data. I had the sun moving into Aries towards the end of the month, which is fire, energy, all that hype. But the real meat was the slow-moving stuff. I isolated the 6th House (daily health, routines, service) and the 8th House (regeneration, crisis, shared resources, death). When you’re staring down a potential pandemic, those two houses are the only ones that matter.
The Gritty Process: Mashing Up the Planets
My method is crude, always has been. I just slammed the transits together and looked for the hard aspects. Here’s the rough list of things I was charting, throwing them onto a spreadsheet to see where they landed:
- Saturn: Was sitting deep in Capricorn, squaring practically everything, including Mars later on. This is the big heavy hand of restriction and structure. In health terms? Lockdown. Immunity stress. The need for serious, often frustrating, limitation.
- Mars: The trigger, the action planet. It was charging through Capricorn and then Aquarius. When Mars hit Saturn, I knew things would get tense. Mars rules inflammation, fever, and acute issues. Saturn rules chronic conditions and delays. The combination always spells trouble—either a delayed sickness or a swift, hard hit to the system.
- Neptune: Chilling in Pisces, right opposite Virgo. Neptune rules fog, confusion, and the immune system’s ability to get confused—hello, strange new illness. I marked this down as “Immune System Confusion Warning.”
- Mercury: This one was moving out of retrograde early in the month. Mercury rules the nervous system and communication. For a Virgo, a stressed nervous system is just a fancy way of saying “total paranoia and anxiety.” I knew they’d be obsessing over every little cough.
I took all these scribbles and then synthesized them into a list of practical actions, not cosmic doom. I wasn’t trying to predict the virus itself; I was predicting the response and the health burden from the stars’ standpoint.
The Final Record and the Aftermath
What did the final, messy record say? I remember using really simple language. I wrote down five key takeaways:
1. Prioritize your routine, because the outside world will lose its structure (The 6th House Saturn effect).
2. Expect debilitating mental fatigue (Mercury stress).
3. Avoid large crowds and unfamiliar environments (The classic Saturn/Mars lockdown rule I always see).
4. Focus intensely on gut health, as this is where your anxiety will manifest physically (Classic Virgo stress point).
5. Do not ignore small symptoms, but also don’t panic wildly over them (Neptune confusion). It’s a fine line.
I emailed that list to my panicking buddy, filed the paper copy away with my canceled flight refunds and unpaid bills, and forgot about it. Then, of course, the whole mess started. And the weird thing? It all played out exactly like that stressful, limiting mess I had charted. The focus on routine, the mental fatigue from the lack of clarity—it was all there.
I only went back and pulled the record out again a year later when I was clearing out some old filing cabinets. I looked at that scribbled chart, the rough notes, the stressed-out handwriting, and realized that my initial impulse wasn’t about esoteric magic. It was a practical coping mechanism. I structured a crazy situation by giving myself a framework to analyze it, even if the framework was the damn planets. Just like when my last company tried to screw me over and I ended up pivoting into something stable—you find your way through the chaos by just putting one foot in front of the other and making a record of the absolute crap you had to go through to keep your head above water. This Virgo health chart was just one of those records.
