NOTE: These recording sessions bring so much value into my life. As I reflect out loud on my insights, my hope is that they offer you value too.
What I'm sharing today feels especially significant. When I began recording these thoughts, I had no idea they would lead to a profound revelation. That's the beauty of genuine reflection—sometimes a simple exploration opens doors to deep healing. If my journey resonates with you, perhaps it might illuminate aspects of your own path. As you'll see, the timing of these insights couldn't be more perfectly aligned with the very astrological movements I've been tracking.
The solidity of routines and how they can support me in creating a lot of outcomes.
So the word Manifestor has been thrown left and right. And in Human Design, as a Manifestor type1, I am one—but this word always made me wonder: what does that mean, manifesting?
We all manifest life. We all manifest good and bad.
The fact that you manifest bad outcomes doesn’t mean that you’re not manifesting.
So let’s get it out of the way—etymologically, what does it mean to manifest?
And then probably what we’re trying to speak here is to get positive outcomes. Like if you make an intention, the power of intention is really very strong out there.
And just go to the etymology—and I’ll tell you:
Manifest—it’s like a statement: clearly revealed to the eye or the understanding. Open to view or comprehension.
Directly from nothing—manifestus: plainly apprehensible, clear, apparent, evident, proven by direct evidence.
It comes from manus—hand—and festus, which apparently is identical to the second element of infest. The Van Rides (Walde-Hofmann) says manifestus may be interpreted as “caught by hand.”
The meanings seem to point to grabbing or attacking for festus, but he finds none of the proposed root connections compelling, and concludes that, regarding infestus and manifestus, maybe the two must be separated.
If not, the sense of development might be from “caught by hand”—in hand, palpable. Manifest destiny: that which clearly appears destined to come to pass—a future state, condition, or event that can be foreseen with certainty or is regarded as inevitable.
It was much used in American politics from the time of the Mexican War by those who believed that the United States was destined in time to occupy the entire continent. -does it sound familiar-
Manifestation is the action of disclosing what is secret, obscure, or unseen—exhibition, demonstration.
Manifesto is a public declaration.
Here I am manifesting different routines by the beach. It’s been quite a while.
I have to say the last five months or six have been a big blur. I can’t really pinpoint exactly what happened, when it happened, and how it happened, but I know there was a big fog.
I’ve written about it. But despite the fact that I was aware of it, I was still inside of the fog.
But the fog started to be more clear now, and I can see the other side of the shore.
So I am manifesting more grounding practices—from coming to the beach early morning to writing my diary with a list of gratitude things, and how I want to accomplish what I want to accomplish that day, that week, that month, that year.
So this is a nice way to start this awareness of how concrete manifestation can become.
So having put the meaning of it out of the way, now it’s important to see—how can this practice be sustained?
One of them is imagination, not only do you have to imagine what it is that you want, where you’re going to place the intention, how that feels once you are “there,” and how you're going to take that intention into something that requires attention.
So that means—how you’re going to put work into that.
Because at the very end, once you have the intention and you put the attention, it means you water the seed.
The intention is the seed, and then the attention is how you water it in time while you feel it already as a fact, perhaps as a back memory.
You take care of it. How is it going to present itself? You act upon it.
And then the third part is presence. You just realize you just created something, and then you let it be. Let it grow.
And that’s where I am right now.
So many good things coming, especially because I feel everything but worried.
I know the world is upside down. But I already know that I just manifest the right frequency for me to keep on being a creator of beauty, an admirer of the simple things in life.
And also the joy that I can emanate on a daily basis is something that I want to inspire others.
→ Craving evolution
And this week, the Sun will conjunct Uranus for the last time at the end of Taurus. (Last time around the same degree was in May 1941, WWW2 was full on.)
By the time you're reading this, the exact conjunction will have passed. But I’m looking at it like a closing arc—seven years of disruption, awakening, rearrangement. Uranus moved into Taurus in 2018. And ever since then, it's been shaking the earth of all of us. But in different ways, depending on the chart.
For me, it started in the third house—my voice, my thinking, the way I connect. It touched my Jupiter, my Sun, my Mercury crossing into my fourth house—my roots. The structure of things started to shift beneath me, I lost my mom. And in that death, I touched something that never left: love as an eternal structure, love as field where all good emanates.
Uranus liberated me. From the need to seek authority in others. From trying to be understood. From waiting for permission. From projections and personas. Because what I found—what I’m still walking—is my own inner authentic self.
Inner authority is not just an archetype—
It’s survival. It’s coherence. It’s how I know what’s aligned—and when I’ve stepped away from myself.
So yes, I’m manifesting. But I’m not manifesting to control outcomes. I’m manifesting because I’m listening. And I’m willing to be surprised.
I just came back from swimming. I’m still at the beach. I did something I do from time to time—float, looking up with my arms raised to the sides. I close my eyes, and I surrender.
In 2018, I asked the sea why I was resisting so much to change.
And the sea said to me: because you have not surrendered yet.
And today, I ask again. This is as Uranus is finishing its transit through Taurus.
I asked: why should I know?
And the sea said: act upon it.
OTHER THINGS I HAVE NOTICED: there is little authenticity there, from posts, books, written all in LLM language with cero authenticity, to fake gurus inundating the space with false predictions.
PEOPLE, KNOW THYSELF, get a practice that takes you back to your higher self, BE SOVEREIGN, there is no space for NPCs in the kingdom of the free. BTW I am Not your guru, I just managed to synthesize a lot of shit 24/7.
Because I have kept my curiosity ON and have with Uranus’ rocking erratic support shifted from stubborn ideals / ideas that had shaped my life until 2020.
AN INVITATION to look back at your life since 2018 (April onward) and see where you wanna be next. mine: Uranus in Taurus2: 2018–2025
A Synthesis of Value
2018 The degradation of hope had reached its edge. Chiron’s long transit through Pisces had opened a space where illusion and sorrow merged, as I had been drowning with the pull toward helplessness. A year before, I began studying Evolutionary Astrology and Human design to remember who I was. Uranus had entered my third house in 2014, shaking the foundation of how I processed ideas and meaning. Saturn crossed my South Node and moved into the 12th—years of stored experience began to surface. Jupiter on my Midheaven brought a few commissions—small signs of outward expansion that mirrored a deeper inner shift. I had a Venus return. I saw light again.
2019 The sea told me to surrender. I had been supported by family and friends through a rough cycle that was coming to an end, and I asked the ocean what to do next. The message was clear, but not easy: stop trying to control. That year, Uranus moved across my Jupiter. My belief systems were shaken, broken in half. Neptune and Lilith circled my second house Chiron, calling me to dissolve the story of survival. I began clearing out the past. Let go of the my art studio. Sorted through storage. I started the metamorphosis program with Simon. I began practicing embodied trust.
2020 Twenty-seven years of identity collapsed in favor of possibility. Lockdown: I stopped drinking. I lost weight. My structure changed. Saturn entered my first house. Mars moved across my Pisces placements. I moved with more intention. Uranus trined Mercury, Sun, and South Node. I had clarity. I saw that the real virus was ideological, not physical. I left New York. Pluto, Jupiter, Saturn, and Pallas aligned in my 12th. My inner work met external form. The conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn at 0° Aquarius opened a new cycle—initiating a 20 year social construction, where technology and disembodiment can create even more trauma, or actually resolve it. who knows!
2021 I was immersed in trauma work, meaning crisis dialogues, and communication that didn’t violate the nervous system. Summer in Italy with constraints of private property: A residency. A confirmation, my views kept shifting. The nodal axis crossed my fifth house. Saturn and Jupiter passed through my first. My creative identity reemerged, rooted this time in study and integration. Uranus opposed my Moon. Confronted and open old emotional loyalties and gave me new tools. Neptune touched my Antivertex. Guidance showed up. I trusted.
2022 What is value and how can I be initiated in this revolution? Home became a question of feeling good in my skin with my new views, it was no longer a location although living by the sea is very nourishing. Uranus entered my fourth house, opposing Neptune in my tenth house. The nodal axis in Taurus and Scorpio activated my Sun and IC. I was re-rooting from the ground up. I had begun studying Bitcoin at the end of 2021. By spring, I was fully engaged. Chiron entered my third house. I confronted how I had been thinking. Jupiter, Neptune, and Venus aligned in my second house—I began dissolving the idea of scarcity as lack and focused on the value of scarce time/assets. I no longer identified solely as an artist. I began naming myself as a polymath. Saturn conjuncted my natal Vesta—I gave devotion to something sustainable.
2023 Love is eternal. My mother passed. I traveled to see her more than once. The North Node moved across my Mercury, Sun, and Jupiter. I had my Jupiter return. My second Saturn return completed. She had a stroke when the North Node conjoined her natal Uranus at 29• Aries. I was present. I listened. Her death brought so much clarity and grace. I entered a deeper form of gratitude. I volunteered at Bitcoin conferences. I met people who weren’t trapped in artifice. The South Node moved through my ninth house. I stopped chasing fixed meaning trying to identify with ideals. I chose to embody every experience as a moment by moment practice.
2024 I took responsibility as a beautiful structure. I published my book. Jupiter conjoined Uranus. Bitcoin halved. I had already integrated the lessons. Saturn conjoined my natal Chiron. transiting Chiron conjoined my Mars. I made contact with the part of me that once froze. This time, I moved through. I spoke up. I recorded. I taught. I clarified. I saw value through the lens of subjectivity. Mises. Menger. Monika. I traced the root of value back to need. And need, understood through evolutionary astrology, becomes the template for meaning through value. I honored my preferences. I affirmed property rights. I made decisions from my own authenticity.
2025 I speak without shame or blame. Uranus will conjoin the Sun this week—for the last time in Taurus. This is why I’m writing and reflecting on this synthesis. Jupiter has hovered over my Venus twice. There’s an invitation to share. Mars and Pluto have been opposing each other thrice across my 6th and 12th. Jupiter was the midpoint. From that confrontation, wisdom emerged. The South Node now entered my 8th. Paying all kinds of debts as I am facing unresolved value. Exiting the systems that never recognized my sovereignty—on my own terms is a desire to be fulfilled. Pluto approaches my Ascendant more every time. Neptune is finishing its work in my second house—dissolving false security. Saturn and Ceres prepare to enter Aries. I will express what I know. Venus now enters my third house. My voice is not up for compromise.
“Trauma is an intense mental, emotional, physical or spiritual disturbance resulting from stress or shock that can have a lasting psychological effect. Uranus operates as a subconscious detonator—shocking the psyche out of stagnation. These shocks often result in disassociation, identity fracturing, and forced individuation. Most people suppress the trauma. They resist the Uranian impulse because it destabilizes what Saturn has structured. But when Uranus breaks through, it cracks open the conditioning itself. The trauma then becomes the portal.”
— Jeffrey Wolf Green, “Trauma and the Outer Planets”
Stones are unprocessed material-Somatic events are symbolic timing.
So last September, I had a session online with Tiziano Sguerso3, an Italian living in Australia (a systemic practitioner and Family Constellations expert dedicated to helping individuals unlock their full potential.) The session was potent and very short—less than 30 minutes—and it happened on the day of my mom's first anniversary of her passing. I wanted to get in touch with my family and the lack of father figure, both in her life—because he died when she was 12—and mine—because mine died when I was 8.
I don't remember exactly what Tiziano asked me to do, but I think it was more about meeting my grandfather, the ties around the idea of the father figure that has been missing in my life. These have really a lot to do with overall sense of value.
We had the session. It was very brief. And it was intense.
Within a day of that, I started having a very intense pain. Sharp pain on my lower back—exactly on my right side. And it was unbearable. I thought I was going to die.
Within a couple of hours, I realized that probably this pain could have been related to it—like an aftermath. It was penetrating the cells of my body. Or the pain was trying to come out.
But it could also be kidney stones. In fact, there were kidney stones. And I had also been doing the full lion’s diet (carnivore’s extreme only red meat, butter salt and water for a year), and I had eaten a lot of oxalates throughout the years such as kale and spinach. So it was a normal thing to be dumping them. But boy did it hurt!
But what I want to say—and I do have some answers—is that there are no coincidences. Because also in Chinese medicine, the kidneys have a lot to do with fear or freeze of movement. Like when you need to go deeper into a level, and fear impedes you from going through it.
I don’t know what I moved internally, but something was moving in terms of trauma inside of my body that manifested as kidney stones.
I managed to clean them and break them really fast through a protocol that I do with olive oil and lemon and water and some other natural ailments like Chanca Piedra.
And now—nine months, a whole gestation period—since it happened, I’m starting to realize the intensity and the meaning of it.
I am sure it’s related.
In Chinese medicine, the kidneys govern fear, willpower, and ancestral inheritance. The right kidney is often associated with the father line and masculine energy. I overpowered myself—since I didn’t have a father figure. My late mother lived under the same circumstances. Even both of my grandmothers raised children alone due to early widowhood.
They represent the heart of fear.
And fear was a driver for survival.
Crystallized grief. Unprocessed emotional residue—especially around control, authority, and survival.
What did I do?
I created a new circumstance of pain—
to relieve it,
and to break the line of burden.
And here I was, opening up and surrendering to that way of living.
During the session, I met my grandfather. I spoke to him under Tiziano’s guidance. And because it was on the anniversary of my mother’s passing, this was like a double ancestral gate.
I managed to open a space for deep inner shift.
I feel that family constellations often move trauma energetically.
And the body responded immediately.
As I’ve been navigating Uranus through my fourth house—which is about root, family, and ancestry, also home—I have been reclaiming my inner authority through Taurus: my sense of value, my stability, my survival, my self-reliance.
In times of old pain, I always called in silence for someone to save me (Chiron in Pisces)—until I understood that this is what disempowerment means.
Co-depending on others makes addiction thrive.
This was part of the integration of my Chiron wound.The father wound that I’ve had—it’s directly related to the archetype of authority and value.
Meaning: I am becoming accountable. Saturn = I am accountable.
The kidneys are filters. The stones are unprocessed material and stagnated crystallized conditioning and ancestral karma, carried through the female line..
I released a pattern that came from the masculine line—that was held by my mom, she felt it. My maternal grandmother was a young widow, My father also grew up with a father who was a little bit distant. So I was just holding the ancestral line of crystallized repression or ancestral memory.
And finally, I was able to loosen it up—by doing the session and releasing it with the stones.
Somatic events are symbolic timing.
It was divine timing, as I would say.
And me realizing this after nine months—
it’s an incredible cycle that closes,
beautifully, with the cycles of trauma around the Sun giving light to Uranus in Taurus in my 4th house.
An Event of Synchronicity
Carl Jung spoke of synchronicity as the meaningful connection between events that appear causally unrelated. Coincidences happen all the time, but synchronicity requires meaning. It opens insight.
While I was writing and recording this piece—specifically the part about my session with Tiziano—I had the urge to ask my brother and my aunt if they had my grandfather’s birth or death date. I had never done his chart.
A few hours later, my aunt replied. I entered the date. The chart blew me up.
His Sun and Venus in early Cancer sit exactly on my North Node.
His Saturn is exactly on my Moon–Neptune conjunction in Scorpio.
His Neptune lands on my Venus in Gemini and squares my Chiron.
His Mars in Aries conjuncts his Black Moon Lilith, and together they conjunct my Mars in the third house.
His Moon, depending on time of birth, may also be on my South Node in Capricorn, in my 11th house.
And suddenly—everything made sense. Everything connected.
This is what was synchronistic.
His Saturn conjuncts my Moon in Scorpio in a balsamic phase to Neptune, in my ninth house approaching the tenth.
This means karma passing down. It speaks of emotional suppression, inheritance through silence.
Saturn on the Moon carries weight. It binds nourishment with responsibility. In Scorpio, it’s ancestral grief—dense, hidden, protective. It’s survival through control.
I projected this onto my astrology teachers. Both of them had the same Saturn–Moon pattern in my chart. I saw them as carriers of wisdom.
But what I was reaching for was already in me—already in the wound, in the architecture of my own chart.
There’s no more projection now.
My Moon is in a balsamic conjunction to Neptune. This is a dissolving aspect—the closing of an emotional cycle in time.
My mother had the same exact aspect: Moon conjunct Neptune in Virgo, in her 12th house. That fell on my 8th house—on top of my Pluto–Uranus conjunction.
I don’t know to what extent she released what she carried, but I know she did the work—quietly, in her own way, in the last years of her life.
She passed something to me. It wasn’t a burden.
What I see now is an opportunity to relieve it.
And I can feel her presence now.
I am transforming this into an evolutionary event—just as I did during the session with Tiziano.
Mostly because of her passing.
Now my grandfather’s Neptune on my Venus, squaring my natal Chiron, becomes something else entirely.
It’s the wound of love—and the possibility of dissolving it. Of self-love.
And right now, Jupiter is transiting over my Venus, activating the whole line.
The pain became porous.
The wound became what is meaningful.
This is what I released.
His Mars in Aries conjunct his Black Moon Lilith—together, they conjunct my Mars.
This is a whole frequency of unexpressed anger. His anger.
The shadow of individuality suppressed.
It’s the fire of the self turned inward.
When the instinct is denied, the body holds it.
And eventually—like his ulcer—it explodes.
That what was ruptured.
And that was my kidney stone.
And because this all falls in my third house, I’m here talking about it.
My Mars sextiles my Venus in the fifth—the creative house.
So I’m here to tell stories. To release pain. To release karma.
His Moon on my South Node in Capricorn in the 11th house is ancestral coding.
It also conjuncts my Ceres—how I tend to nurture other people’s needs before my own.
The collective memory of containment.
The message: control your emotions, suppress the wild, protect the lineage by disappearing.
But I refuse to carry that. No, No, Not anymore.
I have opened my heart.
The release shows my proof of work.
He died young.
Suddenly.
At 49.
A stomach ulcer that ruptured.
Emotional pressure. Anger turned inward.
A body that could not hold suppression—and gave in.
A powerful symbolic, epigenetic event.
On the eve of his Chiron return.
The kidney stones. The pain. The way it was released.
It was all mirroring something in front of me—across time and space.
I could feel my mother carrying that pain for him.
And I could also see how I inherited the burden from both of them.
What I finally released nine months ago—today comes to light.
It moved through me energetically. Somatically. Through my bones.
Uranus conjunct the Sun this weekend.
That’s the event I just described.
Both of them—my mother and grandfather—had the North Node in Aquarius, very close to one another.
My mother’s Saturn conjuncted his North Node.
I can’t describe how meaningful this is.
Because Uranus deals with trauma.
And it’s all written in the stars.
Uranus connects everything—from inside and outside the body, from inside and outside of time.
It holds no limitations of time or memory.
Uranus de-conditions what Saturn has defined and kept crystallized—especially pain.
The session with Tiziano didn’t just open something.
It sent a message across time—confirmed through my grandfather’s chart.
This is a very powerful and profound healing.
I have managed to reroute the ancestral field.
I already sent him a note of thanks last night. I got an emoji! 👥
This is what Bruce Lipton calls epigenetics—when a pattern changes in real time.
When the nervous system no longer holds the old story.
I am so free now.
And I have freed my family’s burden—the broken connection to value.
I can see the return.
And I have written a legacy.
Guys—this is what a Uranian transit can do in your chart.
Remember: right now, the conjunction this weekend lands on my fourth house of ancestral healing.
This is what astrology, Jungian psychology, and shadow work can support you in.
I love you Carl Jung.
I love you Jeffrey Wolf Green.
Let’s talk about Uranus and trauma.
Trauma is the pain that protects us from feeling it even more. But Uranos helps us to see it—like a lightning bolt. Trauma is kept under the fields of the unknown. But then when it resurfaces, it gives us the potential to break away from it, to transform it.
So part of those three years that I had Uranus in my fourth house—opposing my Moon at some point—have been about tapping into the density of all those crystallizations, all those conditionings, all that area that has been protected from not wanting to be developed but that needs to be shattered.
Uranus in my fourth house. It’s the archetype of Cancer.
What I’m doing here is integrating. Follow me.
(BTW—there’s a whole article I could write about Gabor Maté, Peter Levine, Bessel van der Kolk, and Betsy Polatin—and how I tapped into my trauma using their somatic approach. But today’s article is a different lens.)
My Uranus the Sixth House/virgo: the trauma of not being perfect—this psychologically impairs me. The way I integrate it is to surrender. I surrender to the psychological separation that makes me feel I’m not perfect. I allow the crisis to refine me.
On my Seventh House balsamic relationship to 8th house Pluto: I always need to see the exit sign from the very first vision, because I always have to have a way out of any relationship. The trauma is needing escape. The integration is individuation. It’s about becoming my own person while still remaining open to love, to friendship, to relationship. I take care of those nurturing qualities by being fully myself in the face of the other and by dissolving the trauma of being trapped in codependent situations- how? regaining self value! I love astrology man!, mixed with jungian shadow work, it is the ultimate weapon for healing…
Transiting Uranus in the Fourth House: insecurity from unmet emotional needs; the absence of nurturance in formative bonds. The way I integrate this is by becoming accountable. By growing up. Maturity becomes the structure that allows inner safety. (The polarity of cancer is Capricorn/Saturn)
Transiting Uranus in Taurus has been an amazing way to understand what survival, values, and attachment to the material world has been expressed—or has been the potential for expression—in the last seven years. And the way to integrate it is through the scorpio archetype, one: confronting it. Knowing that evolution is the most important way to face the possibility of not having, or owning, or understanding that value is something that is subjective, and it lies inside of ourselves. It's not in the things that we possess. So, as Taurus is resisting the change to stay secure, Scorpio teaches that security is found in embracing cycles of death and rebirth. Beautiful.
Uranus rules the 11th house and the sign of Aquarius. The Sun rules the 5th house and the sign of Leo. When they meet this week, they’re meeting together— they complement each other.
So the idea right now is to bring some light—the Sun—into the values, Taurus, of what has been evolving, revolving in the last seven years in that part of your life. So you can realize your uniqueness in the face of the collective, thus upgrading your karmic existence, letting go saturnian peels of ancestral pain, and burden that belong to others not to me.
But also, if you look at the natal Uranus in your chart—by sign and house—and your natal Sun, by sign and house, you will have a bigger picture of how to integrate this with these polarities, as I just showed you.
There you go…
As I try to close this newsletter, I want to give an invitation to be appreciative, be grateful. Taurus is about manifestation of those dreams of this life, but it's also about being grateful for the manifestation. So if you still have some desires up in the air, learn to ground them and then be grateful about it. Or do it the way I do it: already start being grateful and then allow them to become part of your breathing structure.
At one point I will find the frequency of my human family…
Have a good week.
“Uranus in the Fourth House or Cancer: mental trauma can occur when these individuals experience an intense lack of emotional understanding, and a lack of nurturing, related to their biological parents. […] These individuals will continue to generate environmental or circumstantial experiences that have the effect of throwing them back in upon themselves until they understand that the nurturing and security that they are seeking is wholly within themselves.”
— Jeffrey Wolf Green, "Trauma and the Outer Planets"
Accountability Is a Bitch: This Is When You Show Up
Note: I think everyone needs a break—from the universe, from AI, from fake news, from many, many lies, from everyone stabbing each other in the back, from fake money, pedophile enablers, and from a de…
Manifestor (Human Design):
One of the four main energy types. Manifestors are here to initiate—designed to act from internal impulses without waiting for external permission. Their strategy is to inform before they act. They are not here to be controlled or interrupted, but to catalyze movement. The challenge is to stay in integrity with their inner authority, and not abandon their truth in order to be understood. Guess who is a manifestor too? 47th!
Uranus in Taurus Conjunction Timeline (2018–2025)
1. Uranus conjunct the Sun
Occurs annually when the Sun moves through Taurus. Marks personal and collective shakeups—revelations, breakthroughs, identity jolts.
2. Uranus conjunct Venus
Also annual. Shifts in relationships, beauty, self-worth, and money. Tone varies depending on degrees and retrogrades.
3. Uranus conjunct Mercury
Yearly. Electric insights, disruptive language, mental clarity, new frameworks. Often timed with the Sun.
4. Uranus conjunct Mars
Rare.
January 20–21, 2021 at 6° Taurus — explosive, catalytic, and personal (directly over my Sun).
Initiated a rupture in motion, energy, and expression. Trined natal Uranus and South Node—karmic ignition.
5. Uranus conjunct Jupiter
April 20, 2024 at 21° Taurus — massive amplification.
Jupiter expands what Uranus electrifies—this was a collective and personal peak in value upheaval.
6. Uranus conjunct the North Node + Mars
July 31, 2022 at 18° Taurus — rare triple conjunction.
Triggered individuation, ancestral clearing, and karmic redirection.
“Uranus conjunct the North Node tells of a continuing need to liberate oneself completely from all prior ego patterns.” — Jeffrey Wolf Green.
By bridging body, soul, and the morphogenetic field, he guides people in breaking free from limiting patterns, navigating life’s complexities and unlocking their inner strength.
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