You never forget your first Pluto transit, even if you don’t know what it is at the time. Associated with seismic shifts of heart, soul, and psyche, they feel volcanic in nature – something erupts.
To onlookers, it seems like you drastically changed for no particular reason – ‘suddenly obsessed with x‘ or ‘decided they didn’t want to be in a relationship…‘ and the early stage of a plutonic metamorphosis can be particularly baffling to other people.
Whatever sparked your transformation trip, you lack the time and inclination to explain yourself. Besides, instincts are rarely explicable or linear. You can quickly morph from being a desirable known quantity or ‘good old‘ whatever your name is into your set’s enigma or black swan character.
Not that you’ll care about any of the social judgments you used to frenziedly factor into your calculations. Pluto transits mean you can’t even lie to yourself, let alone others. What you lose in popularity or convenience, you gain in raw vitality and guts.
Once you’ve evolved through your first Pluto transit, you recognize the rumblings when they occur the next time. In the same way a dormant – or even officially extinct – volcano can reactivate, you begin to re-feel desire, trauma, ambition, and emotion that have been way beneath the surface.
Or, you don’t have deep reservoirs of subconscious feelings, but your earlier experiences made you allergic to synthetic living? So when Pluto swings around again, the authenticity begins to bubble up like hot magma, and before you know it, you’re looking to vent or effect significant changes.
Sure, some people may look at you askance, but as history shows, it’s never a wise idea to try and plug a volcano or pretend that subsurface activity isn’t occurring. FYI, this natural phenom also serves as a metaphysical metaphor: weeks before a volcanic eruption, scorpions, snakes, and centipedes flee the area en masse.