Transit Chiron Square Natal Mercury

A conversation brushes against a bruise you thought had healed. During this stretch, language rubs up against old pain, and the mind hears echoes inside everyday exchanges. The work is to notice the echo without letting it swallow the present.

This transit stirs the nervous system and aims it at old fault lines. A casual remark can find the tender spot, and suddenly you’re in two conversations at once: the one happening now, and the one from years ago where you learned to protect yourself. The mind wants to solve it, explain it, outthink it—yet language can wobble when feelings swell. You might notice a tremor in your voice, a rush to justify, a quick retreat into silence or sarcasm. It isn’t weakness; it’s the intelligence of your history flickering through the present moment.

Working with this energy asks for a slower bridge between feeling and speech. When you pause long enough to name what’s rising—“I’m touched here,” “I’m hearing an old story”—the heat can disperse without disappearing. Repair becomes possible: asking what someone meant before deciding what they meant to you; letting curiosity interrupt certainty. Over time, your voice learns a new route around the wound, or even through it. You don’t need perfect words. You need honest ones, shaped by kindness toward the part of you that once had none.