When Mars rages, impulses take control

Impulse lives in the body. It rises before thought, sharp and insistent. This is the energy of Mars—not a concept, but a current. It doesn’t wait for reflection. It strikes. When that current runs clean, it becomes boldness, momentum, confidence. But when tangled in inner tension, it can twist into something compulsive.

This is not always loud. Sometimes, it’s a quiet restlessness, a constant hum beneath daily life. The need to do something—anything—to escape stillness. Mars in disarray pulls toward instant gratification: a bite, a click, a fix, a rush. The momentary relief disguises a deeper ache.

When this force blurs with the need to dissolve boundaries, the result is foggy action. Movement becomes unclear, motivated by confusion or longing. There’s a reach for something soothing, beautiful, or numbing. But the peace never lasts. The impulse returns, stronger. The chase begins again, not toward a goal, but away from discomfort.

In other expressions, Mars collapses inward. Its fire dims, but doesn’t go out. Frustration builds with no outlet. Anger simmers, unable to find a voice. The body still craves release, so it finds one—habits that numb, distract, or offer false control. It’s not about pleasure. It’s about relief. A moment of quiet in the noise.

Even joy, when fused with this unchecked drive, can tip into excess. Delight turns into hunger. A moment’s pleasure becomes a cycle of chasing more. The pursuit becomes the purpose, not the connection, not the feeling. Just the next hit, the next high.

But Mars is not the enemy. It wants motion, not destruction. When given direction, it becomes focused effort, healthy desire, brave expression. It asks to be honored, not suppressed. Listened to, not feared. With awareness, even the wildest impulse can become fuel for something lasting. Something true.