You push toward the peak of your career and a slab laid crosswise checks your step. Saturn, the bone that limits and distrusts, pulls at a wrenched angle against the meridian, the visible heading your work climbs toward. Limit and the public peak cut across each other, and the grinding leaves a stiffness. Duty bears down where it least fits, and what you show the world inches ahead in jolts, snagged on obstacles and delays. From that grating you learn the hard patience of building against the wind. The ambition is earned by hand, year on year, filing it against the limit until each public gain, paid for in sweat, sits set in stone and no one carries it off.