Reframing My Perspective Through The Lens of a Broken Camera And Saturn's Return Into Pisces

“A Distorted, Crystalized View” - An image from my broken camera that met its demise on the eve of Saturn’s entrance into Pisces.

I felt better as I belted out show tunes in the shower, washing off a Monday that lasted an eternity. The rest of the week was simultaneously busy and slow; the trek to Friday felt like the ultramarathon scene in Netflix’s Human Playground.

Singing was the balm to my disappointment after my camera broke at work earlier that day.

The six-day-old birthday gift came crashing down from a flimsy tripod at the front of a full classroom, a string of curse words tumbled out of my mouth. My production team and I were moments away from recording a scene for an upcoming campaign; it was only the third shoot of a five-video series. While we used our phones for the remainder, the incident sucked the energy from my body. I was sad, angry, bitter, and generally just upset.

That night, I brain-dumped my thoughts and feelings into a Google Doc. Now, as it nears midnight on Saturday, the sting of Monday has lessened. The words I wrote previously are highly reactive, but the relief I felt after purging my disappointment onto my screen was invaluable. Writing without a filter allowed me to continue with my week - albeit tinged with a bitterness that gradually subsided as the days passed.

In the words of my colleague, “No one could have predicted this.” And while I didn’t expect my camera's swift demise, I wasn't entirely shocked at the unexpectedness of it all.

Saturn moved into Pisces on Tuesday.

In ancient astrology, Saturn is the ruler of time. And as we only receive a finite amount of it, the planet requests we buckle down and do the work so we fulfill our purpose and enjoy the life we’re given.

With time comes lessons, and we’re meant to extract meaning and value from the highs and lows. Saturn makes us wise, as our biological clocks progress, our growing knowledge is reflected in the creases on our faces and the greys in our hair.

On March 7, Saturn moved into Pisces, returning to my natal house and sign.

AKA, my Saturn Return.

The astrological transit happens roughly every 29.5 years, meaning the average individual experiences two Saturn Returns - three if they're lucky.

I'm still learning the ins and outs of what to expect, and I rely heavily on the teachings of astrologers Adam Elenbaas, Pam Gregory, and Nadiya Shah. For those born between May of 1993 and April 1996, March 1964 and March 1967, and February 1935 and January 1938, you will feel this transit’s effects over the next three years.

To find your placement and exact Saturn Return date, visit astro.com and create your chart. Then, reference the next three years of Ephimeras charts and cross-reference the data with Saturn’s placement on your birth chart. For a custom chart and a calculation of your Saturn Return date, click here.

Saturn’s journey through our lives is a three-act play (or musical, if you, too, spontaneously burst into song).

Act I runs through your late 20s and early 30s. It's where you learn who you are and how you relate to the world. You individuate, make important connections, and develop a foundation of skills and relationships to grow. You make mistakes and have fun.

When Saturn returns to your natal sign, it’s time for Act II. You enter a new phase in life, regardless of your wins or losses. You’re an established character in Act II, with the awareness and forethought to recognize time’s paradoxical nature - the days dragging but the months and years flying by.

So when your Saturn Return hits, the planet acts as a teacher - it challenges you. Saturn's goal is to leave you better and stronger and your life more abundant than before. It’s the planet of patience, applauding and rewarding perseverance.

My late Mimi used to say, “Don’t ever get old.” She was semi-joking as her bones ached, and she resented her blinged-out cane, which always coordinated with her outfits. Mimi passed a few years into her Act III - but she saw her third Saturn Return.

As she would often remind me, she lived a lot of life, and even though the world was drastically different than the one she was born into, she “knew a thing or two.” I valued every lesson my grandmother taught me and cherished every moment.

But what happens after Act III?

Five months after Mimi passed, I had my first reading with Psychic-Medium Katie Manning-Hilton. I had questions about my life trajectory, and I was having trouble navigating grief. I can pinpoint specific moments in my life where I knew I was in the right place, at the right time, making the right decision, meeting the right person and saying the right thing. The hour we spent virtually together was one of those experiences. In the roughly 17 months since our conversation, her insight continues to show up in my life.

Her guidance opened a door to the spiritual realm — a space not unfamiliar to me but one I’m increasingly pulled to explore deeper. She gave me insight into my three acts - encouraging me to share the lessons I learned from the past. She gave advice for my present and affirmed my visions of the future. I learned my Mimi is always with me, and I feel her every day.

So no, I wasn’t shocked that the day before my Saturn Return, my favorite gift from my favorite person came crashing down.

“Things break," my partner said, not batting an eye, as he acknowledged my frustration and offered to buy me a new one. I refused the gesture, but when I told him I’d purchased a replacement, he responded with, “Well, I guess I’ll cancel the one I ordered for you.” He’s a good man. And although I only owned that camera for six days - it's still my favorite present.

I had to reframe my perspective.

While it took me a few days to reach this understanding - I see why my camera had to break. The negativity spiral I found myself in needed to be corrected. But it felt foreign, as I've spent the last 72 days committed to a daily yoga practice. Those moments of my day spent connecting to my breath, strengthening my body and nourishing my soul have kept me centered. And while I know the ability to operate from a place of peace is one I'll never perfect, it's an endeavor I will forever pursue.

I'm now five days into Act II, and I can see Saturn at work. Father time reminded me growth is neverending, and it takes work to remain in a high vibration.

But I also saw behind the curtain.

The aftermath of the incident erased some naivety and showed me the reality of my present circumstances. I felt the support of my colleagues and appreciated the grace, calmness and generosity of my partner.

I understand my potential.

The deep emotional reaction I felt to losing a camera I only owned for six days solidified my determination to create high-quality content. My investment into a new camera is an opportunity to grow and challenge my content creation skills and expand the services I offer my clients.

Patience is a requirement for progress.

Owning a camera was a dream come true, and losing it just as suddenly as I got it was a tough pill to swallow. But the disappointment was an invitation to remember the impermanence of life. That this big feeling moment would subside, and the ordeal would become more and more insignificant as time passed.

But I have permission to feel my feelings.

I spent some time in conversation with Yana Yoga owner Sam Lyman recently. I told her how there was a general sense of overwhelm in the air, and it was leaving me a bit scattered and creatively stuck, “You can camp out there, but you don’t have to move in,” she said in reference to my emotional state. Her words resonated in my heart.

While I’ve never been one to shy away from my feelings, my younger self would oscilate between two extremes: stuff down or reject my hurts, frustrations, and unmet needs or go off the deep end, reacting loudly, taking it out on myself and pushing away my loved ones.

The older I get, the more I express my needs, acknowledge my hurt, constructively channel my frustration and advocate for myself. I’m only human, I will slip, I will fall, but in this new 29.5-year-cycle, I vow to show up every day and return back to my authentic self.

My camera breaking at work wasn’t the end of the world.

It wasn’t life or death, not even close. But this series of unfortunate events was a mirror to the cosmos. The disappointment and disillusionment that followed reflected my birth chart, serving as a stark reminder of life’s unexpectedness and the divine mystery of it all.

It allowed me to practice feeling my feelings, observing my thoughts and recognizing when they started overtaking me. It showed me the power of giving myself breathing room, letting the negative emotions subside.

Throughout the ebbs and flows of life's energies, the present moment remains ours for the taking — regardless of the external circumstances, astrological transits or big emotions. As long as we return back to our most authentic selves with love in our hearts, everything always works out. 

Even during your Saturn return.