URANUS RETURN/NEPTUNE OPPOSITION: What happened yesterday in the bank.

May 30, 2026

If it weren’t for the fact that the Uranus Return is so “arousing,” so unpredictable, and so on, I would stop talking about it here. Looking back, I see what is it, seven posts already? Geez!

And all the time, the Uranus Return is flavored with, softened by the fact that transit Neptune is also, during this first and only time in my life, conjunct the IC root point and opposing its natal position at the Midheaven.

Yes, I cannot help but both insert awakening (Uranus) and radiate love (Neptune) into very social occasion.

 

Case in point: yesterday.

At my local branch of the IU Credit Union. Sitting there with five others, having signed in, and awaiting my turn to see a bank clerk about a technical issue. First time I’ve ever seen so many people sitting around that waiting area shaped as three 90° sides of a square. Because of that shape, we could easily — in fact we could not help but — see each other, despite phones. Why again? Because puppy Scampi (who I was told a long time ago, can come with me into the bank) functions as both  disruptor and attractor, seducing everyone around the little waiting area into a smile, a laugh, or at least a top of the reading glasses slight grin.

He seems to go up first to the one who needs it most. Wagging his little metronome tail. Perky. Looking bright and happy. It’s hard not to respond. Fingers reach out to his nose to let him sniff, then when he accepts, crawl up to his neck, and even back to his hind end, which of course he loves most to be scratched.

Or, fingers reach out and try to scratch him without letting him sniff their fingers first. That does NOT work.

So I have to explain. I have to talk. To let them know how to greet Scampi, since he’s both easily freaked and yet friendly.  Which gets them talking. Soon, we’re all opening, at ease.

Including:

And these are most problematic: two very very dark men, I assume not originally American (I note their seemingly habitual furtive attitude), but at least trying to be friendly — though one of them soon left the bank, signaling the other to follow, which he did.

One I imagine trans woman, i.e., biological male, big, thick, powerful, dressed in a skirt and very very sweet. This one felt instantly at ease with Scampi, and told me (s)he works in a doggie day care center — and then with a faraway look of hope — but wants to become a dog trainer. Is in fact, next in line for training. Yes! I support this wonderful dream, and made that obvious.

One old woman, obviously used to being totally ignored, and I sense as a matter of habit making herself as invisible as possible, while sitting there with her phone; but not really on it, just pretending.

Suddenly, she arose and came over to me, said she remembered me from the time when we both took pottery classes! That was 24 years ago, back in 2003; I had arrived only months earlier in Bloomington.

As she spoke, memories of her then-face that still signalled from her very wrinkled, pinched face wafted through. I greeted her warmly, and we spoke of those wonderful times back when.

I told her I still display my bowls and hand-made sculptures; she said she doesn’t have room in her small apartment.

A wonderful greeting from long ago. Finally, we asked each other? “And what is your name?”

Ann.

Betty.

Then she said to us all that she had to leave, couldn’t wait her turn, as she has another appointment.

Then there is the old man sitting next to the chair she had occupied. Really old. Has a cane with him. I didn’t pay much attention to him until another old woman suddenly came up to join us, recognized him, went over to sit where Betty had sat.

She asked him about his injury, how long it had been, the operations, he had had. They segued into the travails of getting older, what exercises they do to help themselves from becoming more frail than necessary at their age.

I joined them, told them about my “two hours of physical culture a day”; asked how old each one was, prefacing it by saying, “I’m 83.” Well, this floored them, excited them.

“I’m 80!”

“I’m 80!”

They were observing my obviously prime physical condition, and hugely, openly admiring.

I asked the man what happened to his knee to cause such an injury. Was it a fall?

“Yes.”

I commiserated with him at this point, telling him that the one thing I know I must do is NOT fall. That an injury to my knee or foot or ankle or leg of hip would stop my daily walks, which are utterly essential for my health, at every level. That I’ve been walking long distances since my teen years, and credit this practice to both my longevity, and especially for not having slipped into depression or gone crazy.

(Both of which are very possible possible for one who is both fiery (crazy), and originally trained to be a good, obedient girl (depression, when fire NOT expressed).)

Both the woman and the man were listening, eager.

The others in our little group had since either had their name called or walked out, impatient. We had managed to sit there for 45 minutes. Rather than focusing in silent fury (at having to wait) on our tiny personal screens, we had engaged in conversation, and found our time waiting in the bank meaningful.

This then, is an example, of how I’m utilizing, more than ever, both my Uranus Return at 1°36 Gemini which makes words fly out of my mouth exactly at the time needed to ignite and energize another all-too-human interaction, and my transit Neptune opposite to itself at 3° Aries; our common human ignition occurs within a softening, welcoming atmosphere (Neptune), so that people relax, let their guard down (Neptune), without even thinking about doing it (Uranus), and all, thanks in part, to Scampi’s innocent eagerness to meet and greet one and all.

Oops. And almost forgot Jupiter, currently crossing, for the seventh time in my life, its own natal position at 23° Cancer.

Family.

We are the human family.

All of us.

One.

 

BTW: hopefully, by tomorrow, I will have let this Uranus fixation go. With any luck (Jupiter), I will do ceremony tomorrow celebrating tonight’s “Once in a Blue Moon.”

For Laura Bruno’s ruminations, see this:

Blue Moon in Sagittarius ~ May 31, 2026

 

 

URANUS RETURNS, and POW! Get serious, Ann.

May 29, 2026

From the I Ching, Wilhelm version, another copy of which I just purchased, since I don’t know where my old one went. What’s interesting to me is just how far I had strayed from the magical, shamanic, ceremonial (intensely right brain) aspect of my practice (When husband Jeff was alive, we used to do Ceremony, at each New Moon).

So I sat down yesterday, lit a candle, meditated for a bit, and then tossed the coins.

Oops!

Could there be a more Uranian announcement?

Read this hexagram through and you’ll know why this reading ignited a deeper process within myself regarding my Uranus Return.

Deeper in the sense that I simply must deal with two opposing value systems (of course! what’s new?) flowing through me internally: they simply must be reconciled within me as I go forward.

One is the whole business of “intergenerational wealth” (which I saw somewhere, is a “Jewish” tradition, as I discovered recently also, that I am “Jewish”!) All three of the homes in Green Acres Village were purchased, starting 23 years ago, with intergenerational wealth, one each from my deceased husband, father, and mother, in that order. That’s how I chose to use what was gifted to me. To create something both real and inspirational in the material world.

Not that I knew what I was doing. This was definitely a situation that permaculturists have now formally recognized as “Emergent Design.” Little by little, one decision leading to the next, the incipient vision gradually materializing.

BTW: according to (definitely  doomer) Kathryn Austin Fitts, what she calls “Mr. Global,” or, “the committee that runs the world,” is “intergenerational wealth!” I just saw her talking about this, in a tiny clip taken from a much longer podcast.

So why would I happen to see this clip now, now during my Uranus Return, when the two value systems happen also to be glaringly apparent, very much up for conscious review?

You guessed it. The other value system is community-oriented. How to preserve Green Acres Village in the event of my death?

My much preferred alternative is for each of the three homes to be sold to a person or people who are as deeply invested in this “tiny paradise” as I am. Have already sold the third house, to Elisha, a long-time Community Dinner participant who, when she bought it, completely transformed our common garden into a real showcase. I mean we’ve got an eight-pound cabbage this spring, already! This was a total surprise. I had no idea she was so incredibly talented and experienced. Not just with the land, but with friends and neighbors who are now working with us in the garden.

This hexagram reminded me of what’s going on now, at a deeper level. For it’s true, I must set things in order, to guarantee, as far as possible, that my death will not disrupt the evolution of Green Acres Village and its homeopathic effect on this neighborhood and beyond. Does this mean I have to set up some kind of a land trust? I sure hope not. Why? Because I’ve learned that “Intergenerational wealth” is still somewhat of an issue in my family. Don’t want to go against that value system either! Which is why I would much rather be assured that two individuals in our community would want to step up to the plate in the event of my sudden death. (Sell both homes for a bit less than market value, like I did with the first one.)

After all, what is more worthwhile than our Green Acres Village motto?

GROWING COMMUNITY FROM THE GROUND UP.

And who would be more of a fool than one who dies without having even made that further evolution possible?