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There’s a type of knowing that doesn’t come from thinking. It shows up as a pull toward something you can’t justify, a sense that a conversation meant more than the words exchanged, or a decision that feels settled before you’ve weighed a single option. Most people dismiss it because it doesn’t hold up under cross-examination. It can’t cite its sources. It arrives without evidence, and in a culture that treats logic as the only credible form of intelligence, that’s enough to override it.

Mercury entered Pisces on February 6, 2026, and because of a retrograde beginning on March 15, it won’t leave until April 7. That’s a 2-month stay in a sign where it normally spends about 3 weeks. Mercury governs how we think, speak, and organize daily life. Pisces doesn’t organize anything. It moves through feeling, symbol, and image, and when the planet of logic enters a sign that operates entirely outside of logic, the friction is immediate. Thinking slows down. Words stop cooperating. The mind drifts toward places that don’t fit neatly into a sentence. If any of that has felt familiar over the past couple of weeks, this is why.

Most astrology content frames this transit as a forecast. Which signs will feel it hardest, what to avoid, and how to survive the fog. That framing is incomplete because it treats the transit like something to endure rather than something to use. The fog isn’t a side effect. It’s the environment that allows a different kind of intelligence to surface, one that psychology has studied, neuroscience has measured, and most people have learned to ignore.

What follows isn’t a transit survival guide. It’s a case for using the weeks that remain to strengthen a faculty that research confirms is real, trainable, and more reliable than most people assume. The “language of your soul” in the title isn’t decorative. It refers to a specific mode of processing that operates beneath conscious thought, and Mercury in Pisces creates conditions where that mode gets louder than usual. The question is whether you treat it as noise or start listening.

What Actually Shifts and Why It Feels Unfamiliar

Mercury is traditionally considered “debilitated” in Pisces, which sounds like a diagnosis but functions more like a description of friction. Mercury wants to categorize, label, and move efficiently from one point to the next. But Pisces doesn’t recognize fixed points. It recognizes currents, impressions, and the spaces between things. So when Mercury enters this sign, the tools it usually relies on stop working the way they normally do.

That shift has a framework. In his 1912 book Psychology of the Unconscious, Carl Jung drew a distinction between two types of mental activity that map almost exactly onto what this transit activates. He called them “directed thinking” and “fantasy thinking.” Directed thinking is conscious, structured around logic and language. It’s how you build arguments, follow instructions, and communicate in ways other people can track.

A densely painted Tibetan thangka on a red background featuring a central seated deity inside concentric circles and a square palace structure with four gates. Smaller figures of deities and lamas fill every section of the composition, with four robed figures seated in the corners. Gold, red, green and deep blue dominate the palette.
A 14th century Tibetan ritual object built entirely from the symbolic language Jung believed the unconscious speaks in. Image by: Himalayan Art Resources Inc. Images Provided Courtesy of Private Collections, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Fantasy thinking moves through symbol and metaphor and emotion, and while it can be conscious, it usually operates beneath awareness. Dreams are its most recognizable expression, but it also shows up as a feeling that carries more weight than the rational mind can account for. Jung considered both modes equally valid. As Jungian analyst-in-training Nicholas Toko puts it, the two coexist as “separate and equal perspectives,” and trouble starts when one dominates the other for too long.

Mercury in Pisces is what happens when the dominant mode gets turned down, and the neglected mode gets turned up. The brain isn’t malfunctioning. It’s switching channels. If you’ve spent years operating primarily through directed thinking, and if the shift to a symbolic, feeling-based mode of processing makes the ground feel less solid, that’s the friction at work. This might look like reading the same paragraph three times without absorbing it. Or realizing a conversation from the morning doesn’t land until you’re lying in bed that night.

There’s a physiological basis for this. Joel Pearson, a cognitive neuroscience professor at the University of New South Wales, has confirmed through his research that the brain constantly processes information beneath conscious awareness and that the body often registers meaning before the thinking mind catches up. What Mercury in Pisces does is widen the gap between those two layers. So the unconscious is working overtime while the conscious mind hasn’t learned to trust what it’s receiving.

Mercury is debilitated in Pisces only if you measure it by Mercury’s usual standards. Measured by Pisces’ standards, Mercury gains access to territory that directed thinking can’t reach alone. Dreams instead of data, resonance instead of reason, feeling instead of fact. During this transit, the linear mind will resist. There will be a pull to force clarity, to make things make sense the usual way, and every time that clarity is forced, the friction increases. The alternative is to let the process be non-linear for a while and trust that the song you can’t shake or the conversation you keep replaying is carrying information. Not the kind that fits in a spreadsheet. The kind that rearranges something inside you before you can say what changed.

Logic is one dialect in a much larger language, and for the next several weeks, a different dialect is running the conversation.

The Science Behind Trusting What You Can’t Explain

The word “intuition” makes some people uneasy because it sounds like something you either believe in or don’t. But the research on intuitive processing has moved well past that question.

Psychologist Carina Remmers and her team at HMU Potsdam ran a study that the American Psychological Association published in its journal Emotion in 2024. They followed 256 participants over 14 days, using an app that checked in before and after each decision. Participants reported on roughly 6,770 everyday choices and were randomly told to decide either analytically or from the gut.

Making any decision improved mood, but intuitive decisions produced a stronger boost, and that boost persisted over time. People who decided intuitively were also more likely to follow through and reported greater satisfaction with what they chose. They didn’t just feel better about the decision. They acted on it. The British Psychological Society called it “the first empirical demonstration showing that using one’s gut has beneficial effects in everyday life.”

A woman in a soft pink knit sweater pressing both hands gently against her upper chest, fingers overlapping. Her face is cropped above the mouth showing a slight smile. The background is plain and light-colored, and the framing is tight on her hands and torso.
The body registers a decision before the conscious mind has finished weighing it. Image by: Pexels

That single finding reframes the entire transit. If the kind of processing this transit encourages produces better emotional outcomes and stronger follow-through. Then what standard astrology content describes as a period of confusion starts to look more like a period of psychological advantage.

And the mechanism isn’t mysterious. Pearson, the UNSW neuroscientist whose work on unconscious processing came up earlier, also built the first objective method for measuring intuition in a study published in the journal Psychological Science. His team showed participants emotional images too quickly for the conscious mind to register. Then asked them to make decisions while those images were still being processed beneath awareness.

The participants who could pick up on that nonconscious emotional information made faster and more accurate decisions, and reported higher confidence in what they chose. The three measures moved together. Speed, accuracy, and confidence all improved when people had access to information they couldn’t consciously see. But the finding that matters most here is that participants improved over time. Intuition grew stronger with practice. Pearson defines it as the learned, productive use of unconscious information for better decisions and actions. That’s a cognitive skill, and like any skill, it responds to repetition.

That turns the transit into something active rather than passive. This is a training window. The conditions it creates, where logic softens, and sensitivity heightens, and the dream life gets louder, are exactly the conditions where the intuitive faculty can strengthen through repeated use. Every decision made from feeling rather than analysis builds a pathway that the research confirms is real and improvable.

This doesn’t mean throwing away calendars and making financial decisions based on cloud shapes. The research is specific. Intuition works best where there’s existing knowledge or experience. Where the decision involves personal preference, and where the stakes are about congruence with values rather than optimization of outcomes. That describes most of daily life. From what to prioritize in a given morning to whether to trust someone whose words say one thing and whose presence says another.

The transit asks you to stop treating rational thinking as the only valid input. There’s a second system that has been producing good results the entire time, and research confirms it gets better the more you use it.

Why This Transit Feels Like Remembering, Not Learning

One of the stranger qualities of Mercury in Pisces is how personal it feels. Other transits create circumstances. This one creates recognition. People tend to describe it as returning to something rather than encountering something new, a sense of familiarity that isn’t tied to any specific memory but carries the emotional weight of one.

That feeling of return makes sense when you look at what intuitive processing actually does to identity. The Remmers study showed that intuitive decisions improve mood and follow-through, but a separate study in the same journal asked a different question.

Researchers Sam Maglio and Taly Reich wanted to know what intuitive decisions mean to the people making them, and across 4 experiments they found that people who decided intuitively were far more likely to report that the decision reflected their “true self.” They felt more certain about what they’d chosen and more willing to act on it. Intuitive processing didn’t just produce a preference. It produced a sense of authorship, the feeling that the choice came from somewhere real rather than somewhere constructed.

When Maglio and Reich’s participants described intuitive decisions as coming from their “true self,” they were naming something the rational mind doesn’t produce. A sense of authorship that feels received rather than built. That reception is what the title means by “language of your soul.” Not a religious claim, but a psychological one. There’s a layer of selfhood that only speaks when the analytical mind steps back. And the sense of receiving is why this transit can feel like remembering. The language isn’t new. It has been running beneath conscious thought for a long time, and this transit turns the volume up enough to hear it.

A young woman with long straight blonde hair resting her chin on a reflective surface that mirrors her face and hair symmetrically. She looks slightly off-camera with a calm, searching expression. The background is warm and neutral, and her hair extends horizontally across both the real and reflected image creating a continuous line.
Maglio and Reich’s participants didn’t describe building a preference. They described recognizing one.
Image by: Pexels

If there is a language beneath conscious thought, Jung spent decades trying to understand how it works. He concluded that the unconscious communicates not through words but through symbols and dreams and through recurring images he called archetypes, themes that show up across every culture and time period. Dreams, in his view, were direct communications from the psyche, a way of expressing truths that the conscious mind has not yet grasped.

He laid this out most accessibly in Man and His Symbols, the only major work he wrote for a general audience, and it remains one of the clearest entry points into his thinking. Beyond personal experience, he also described what he called the collective unconscious, a reservoir of meaning that connects human beings at a level that logical thinking cannot reach.

That is the water Pisces swims in. When Mercury enters this sign, the barrier between conscious and unconscious thinking becomes more permeable. Dreams carry more weight, and symbols start repeating. Something shows up across conversations and reading, and the half-formed thoughts before sleep, and the recurrence feels too deliberate to be random. In Jung’s framework, it isn’t. The messages are coming from a part of the mind that operates in a language older and wider than words.

The same permeability is why this period can feel emotional in ways that don’t seem to have a clear source. When the symbolic mind activates, it doesn’t deliver information the way a textbook does. It brings feeling-toned images and associations that carry their own gravity. Grief can surface without a reason. A dream can linger longer than the waking day that follows it. None of it is random, and all of it is communication.

How To Actually Work With This Energy Without Losing Your Grip

Understanding the transit intellectually is one thing. Working with it is another, and the difference between people who find Mercury in Pisces enriching and people who find it exhausting usually comes down to whether they have a practice or are just absorbing the energy without anything to hold it.

Both Pearson’s and Remmers’ findings point to the same practical starting point. Once a day, make one decision purely on feeling. Not a life-altering one, just something everyday, like where to eat or whether to call someone back now or wait. Follow the first impulse and then pay attention to how it sits afterward, not just the outcome but the sensation of having trusted yourself. Over a few weeks, something shifts. The gap between what the gut says and what the conscious mind is willing to act on starts to close, and that closing is the skill being built.

Dreams will also get louder during this period, and they’re worth paying attention to. A notebook by the bed helps, even if all you’re doing is recording whatever fragments come back in the first two minutes of waking. The instinct will be to interpret immediately or search for meaning online, but that defeats the purpose. Jung built his entire method of dream analysis on the premise that the unconscious becomes legible through accumulated attention, not a single session. After a week of recording, themes start surfacing on their own, and they carry more weight than any symbol dictionary could.

For anyone with a creative practice, this is the window to lean into it. Any medium that lets feeling take form without passing through logic first will produce some of the strongest work of these weeks. This energy doesn’t just favor creativity, it demands it. The energy needs somewhere to go. For people who don’t think of themselves as creative, freewriting works. Set a timer for 10 minutes and write without stopping or worrying whether it makes sense. What comes out might be nothing. But it might also be the thing the unconscious has been trying to say for months.

A person holding a small spiral-bound notebook open with "from dreams to reality" handwritten in lowercase on the lined page. They hold a black pen in the other hand, resting against the page. Their nails are long and painted orange-red, and they're wearing silver rings on both hands. A word tattoo is visible on the inside of their wrist, and a thin silver bracelet sits just below it. The background is blurred and outdoor.
Dreams only stay honest for about five minutes after you wake up. Image by: Pexels

The transit carries real risks too, and ignoring them doesn’t signal spiritual depth. It signals a lack of discernment. Pisces energy blurs boundaries and makes everything feel weighted with meaning, which can slide into a state where nothing gets questioned. Not every feeling is intuition. Some feelings are avoidance, wearing the costume of inner knowing, and others are fear posing as a premonition. One rough distinction that clinicians and contemplative traditions tend to agree on is that intuition usually arrives with calm, almost like recognition, while fear and avoidance come with urgency, a buzzing insistence that something needs to happen right now. It’s not a perfect test, but it’s a reliable starting point.

It’s worth protecting basic structure, too. Mercury in Pisces dissolves routine, which can be beautiful in small doses and destabilizing in large ones. There’s a reason Benedictine monasteries run on fixed schedules. And Jung himself maintained rigid daily routines even while doing his deepest unconscious work. The material needs a container, and a daily routine is that container. The transit delivers the raw input, but the structure keeps it from flooding the room.

The Quiet Invitation You Didn’t Know You Were Waiting For

Mercury will leave Pisces. The logical mind will come back online at full strength. Emails will make sense again, and spreadsheets will stop swimming. And when that clarity returns, there will be a choice about what to do with what this transit made available.

The dreams will fade. The symbolic mind will be quiet. Within a week, the whole experience risks registering as something that happened to a slightly different version of yourself. That’s where the opportunity lives, because the point of the transit isn’t to spend two months in an altered state and snap back to business as usual. The point is to come out of it with direct experience of a second way of processing reality. One that doesn’t replace logic but operates alongside it.

Pearson’s research confirmed that intuition weakens with neglect. Which means whatever gets built during this window is only temporary if it gets abandoned afterward. A few minutes of morning journaling, a weekly check-in with dream life, the habit of noticing what the body says before the mind starts assembling a case.

The maintenance is small, but the effect compounds. What starts as a conscious practice, pausing to check in with feeling before defaulting to analysis, gradually becomes automatic. You stop overriding the hesitation in your chest when something looks right on paper but feels wrong in person. You start noticing that the decisions you agonize over analytically often land in the same place the gut arrived thirty seconds in. Something that used to feel like guessing starts to feel like listening. The two modes stop competing and begin informing each other, which is where the real intelligence lives.

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Jung argued throughout his career that the conscious and unconscious minds aren’t rivals but collaborators, and that wholeness depends on their interaction. When analytical thinking runs unchecked for too long, a person loses access to meaning and to the kind of knowing that comes from being connected to something larger than their own reasoning.

When feeling runs unchecked, the ability to function practically and communicate clearly starts to erode. Neither mode alone is enough, and this transit isn’t asking anyone to choose between them. It’s asking for the restoration of a conversation that you probably abandoned years ago, the one between the part of the mind that knows through thinking and the part that knows through feeling.

The Maglio and Reich study gave that conversation a name. People who decide based on intuition feel the decision came from their “true self.” Not a constructed self or a strategic one, but the version that existed before anyone was taught to justify every choice and lead with logic, even when the body was saying something different. That’s the language this transit has been surfacing. It doesn’t speak in paragraphs. It speaks in recognition, in the quiet certainty that arrives without an argument attached.

The language was always there. Mercury in Pisces just turned the noise down low enough to hear it.

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Disclaimer: Articles exploring faith and spirituality are intended to encourage reflection and understanding, not to define doctrine or assert factual certainty. Spiritual beliefs and experiences differ across individuals and traditions and exist alongside scientific and real-world perspectives. Readers are invited to approach these topics with openness, discernment, and respect for differing viewpoints.