Pisces is the dreamer in a world of deadlines, the soul that swims in the deep waters of imagination while reality clangs pots and pans in the background. During the cost of living crisis, where the world shrinks down to budgets and bulk-buy pasta, Pisces might look like they’re drifting — but really, they’re retreating. Sometimes out of denial, but mostly as an act of preservation. See, Pisces doesn’t do well in a world obsessed with reality and survivalism. They feel everything — the collective anxiety, the unfairness, the silent heartbreak of a parent counting pennies or an artist shelving their craft for overtime. It weighs on them, even if they don’t say it. So they go inward. They dive into their inner realm, where life is still full of color and music and soft, beautiful things that don’t cost a fortune.

Pisces may cope by creating — painting, writing, dancing, cooking with love even if it’s just toast and tea. Their spirit rebels with beauty. When the world gets ugly, Pisces builds an inner haven — lighting candles while bills stack up, writing songs instead of complaints. They don’t escape reality out of weakness — they transcend it. Because let’s face it: the world often feels like too much. And for Pisces, gentle souls in a harsh-edged system, this kind of economic hardness can feel almost personal. They may not want to deal with the nitty-gritty of budgeting. The monotony, the rules, the relentless pressure — it’s not their element. They’re water, not stone. But even if they’re not naturally practical, they often find a way, quietly and creatively. They might barter instead of buy. They might discover ways to live softly and artfully with very little, proving that richness isn’t always about money, but about meaning.

But they must be careful — because too much escapism can tip into neglect. Pisces can get lost in daydreams, in denial, pretending things aren’t as urgent as they are. They may resist looking at bank statements or avoid opening that final notice letter, telling themselves, “It’ll be fine.” And sometimes it will be. But sometimes it needs action. So part of Pisces’ journey during this time is learning to blend their inner magic with earthly responsibility.

They also have immense compassion — the kind that feels everyone’s struggle as if it were their own. So while they may be poor in coin, they’re rich in empathy. They’ll share their last piece of bread, their warmest blanket, or their time with someone who’s hurting. Because to Pisces, love is the only real currency that’s never devalued. So during this time, Pisces copes by creating an alternative current — softer, more humane, more enchanting. They remind us that even in scarcity, we can still make meaning, still make art, still make kindness.

Pisces is the mystic, the empath, the old soul wrapped in soft skin. In a time like the cost of living crisis, when the world feels stripped of its grace, Pisces doesn’t just feel the hardship — they absorb it. The sorrows of strangers, the hunger of neighbors, the tension in the air like static. They are the sign most likely to cry over the news and then quietly give away their last candle to someone in need. But here’s the thing: Pisces has a secret weapon — a mind that can conjure beauty from ruin. When reality turns cold, they turn to the warm glow of their inner world. Their creativity not only survives hardship; it blooms in it. If they’re not too weighed down by grief, they’ll write from the pain, paint scenes more satisfying than any meal, or dream up worlds where nobody’s hungry and everything is softly lit by kindness.

They prefer magical reality. They know — deeply — that life must feel beautiful, not just function. So the more the outer world decays into numbers and need, the more Pisces dives into imagination, spirituality, art, and intuition. They’re the ones lighting incense during power cuts and turning an empty cupboard into a metaphor for inner peace. Yet, there’s a shadow to this escape. Under sustained stress, the unconscious floods the gates. Anxiety, depression, old wounds — all the ghosts rise. Pisces may become overwhelmed, retreating too far inward, losing themselves in fantasy, sleep, or emotional fog. They might neglect their own needs. They can dissolve under too much pressure if they don’t have a lifeline — a trusted friend, a creative outlet, or a tiny, steady ritual that grounds them in the here and now.

Pisces is fragile, yes, but not weak. Their strength is fluid, emotional, oceanic. It’s the ability to feel everything and still offer gentleness. They won’t shout. They won’t scheme. But they will create something inspiring to lift us all up. So in these hard times, Pisces will likely cope by adding a touch magic into the mundane — if they can keep from drowning in the collective sorrow. They’ll need space to create, permission to rest, and reminders that their sensitivity is a light. Because when they are supported, even just a little, they turn hardship into healing — and make the rest of us believe, if only for a moment, in something more gentle than survival.

The Empath

Pisces is the ocean-hearted empath, the one who feels the world’s ache as if it were stitched into their own skin. In this era of high costs and heavy hearts, their compassion floods. They can sense the sorrow behind closed doors, feel the exhaustion in a stranger’s eyes. Their awareness of collective suffering is so vast, so deeply ingrained, that their own pain often stays in the background, unheard, unacknowledged — even by themselves. They’re the sign most likely to say, “Others have it worse,” even as their own soul is fraying at the edges.

But this is where Pisces must be vigilant. This compassion can so easily become a kind of erasure — a quiet neglect of their own needs, boundaries, and dignity. When the weight of the world sits on their shoulders, it’s not heroism to carry it all alone. It’s too much. And when they’re stretched too thin, the shadows creep in — the sense of being misunderstood, mistreated, overwhelmed by a world that doesn’t seem to hold them in the same tenderness they offer it. The victim mentality can start to seep in then. “Why does no one care for me the way I care for them?” “Why am I always the one giving?” These aren’t selfish questions — they’re honest. But Pisces must be careful not to become defined by this sadness. There’s a fine line between feeling deeply and drowning in those feelings. And Pisces, for all their grace and beauty, can sometimes slip beneath the surface and believe they’re meant to stay there.

So during these hard times, Pisces must learn to defend their own ground. To say “no” without guilt. To recognize when their sympathies are being used, manipulated by those who see their softness as something to extract rather than protect. Their love must become a circle that includes themselves. Their kindness must have roots in self-respect. Because here’s the great truth: Pisces at their strongest is not a martyr. They are a mystic with boundaries. A healer who knows when to rest. A giver who understands that they too deserve to receive. Their compassion doesn’t need to be endless to be powerful — it needs to be wise. Pisces will always feel for the struggling, the unheard, the broken — and thank the stars for that. But in these tough times, their lesson is this: you matter too. Your suffering is no less valid just because you understand others’. Your heart, delicate and divine, deserves to be held — by you most of all. With this balance, Pisces transcends hardship. And they do so not as victims, but as souls who have learned how to love without losing themselves.

A Spiritual Belonging

During the cost of living crisis, when the world feels barren, transactional, and starkly unforgiving, Pisces may do what they do best: long for elsewhere. Not necessarily a place on a map, but a feeling — the sense of home, of spiritual belonging, of heaven. When the pressure grows too heavy, when prices rise and humanity seems reduced to numbers and necessity, Pisces may feel the pull — the desire for oblivion, the aching need to disappear into something softer, deeper, safer. They don’t want to fight the cold mechanics of capitalism. They want to slip through it into a world of beauty and meaning. A song. A dream. A bath. A single moment of stillness that reminds them they are more than their circumstances.

This is self-preservation. Because Pisces has imagination. When reality is cruel, they transform. They pretend, not in the sense of lying, but in the magical act of choosing to see what could be. They build new worlds inside themselves, places to rest, to renew, to remember. And when they return — and they do return — they come back wiser, calmer, more compassionate than before. The ability to escape—into a book, a piece of art, music, or a dreaming cushion—is not a flaw in Pisces; it’s a survival mechanism. They don’t abandon the world; they recharge away from it. And once restored, they can face the hardship with a renewed strength.

During these times, Pisces may need to retreat. To go home — physically, emotionally, spiritually. To escape, for a little while, into a space that asks nothing of them. But the true magic is what they bring back. Imagination. Intuition. Deep, unshakable empathy. They return re-enchanted, ready to offer a kind word, a solution, a creative path forward when logic has run dry. Let them go if they need to. Trust they will come back. And when they do, they will show us that even in the most brutal times, beauty is not cancelled, hope is not lost, and the heart — when it is allowed to rest — can once again rise.

A Sense of Melancholy

Pisces is where tears and laughter sleep side by side, and every shadow carries a ray of light. In the bleak realm of the cost of living crisis, where so much feels grey, weighed-down, and transactional, Pisces walks through it like a half-dreaming mystic, one hand on the heart of the world, the other reaching out to the unseen. Pisces is filled with melancholy — the kind of sorrow that isn’t just sadness, but awareness. They feel the ache in the air, the quiet despair in supermarkets, the spiritual poverty behind financial fear. They don’t just suffer with the world; they suffer for it. But this melancholy isn’t really despair. It’s depth. It’s a well that holds both pain and wisdom. It doesn’t drown them — not if they’ve learned their own rhythm. It softens them, rounds off the edges, allows them to weep for beauty as much as for loss.

And then — out of nowhere — comes the laughter. Pisces, when they’re not overwhelmed, can be astonishingly joyful, even mischievous. They find delight in odd, sensual, glimmering corners of life: the way sunlight hits a cracked windowpane, the absurdity of an overpriced item, the music of a kettle boiling.  And for those in whom Pisces energy is strong, there’s this knowing: the art of letting go. Of releasing what cannot be controlled. Of flowing with what is, instead of clinging to what was.

It is this letting go — this surrender — that gets Pisces through. While others tighten their grip, Pisces opens their hands and says, “What will come, will come. What must pass, let it go.” And there’s a peace in that. A spiritual fluency. And let’s not forget: Pisces infuses the everyday with strange and subtle meaning. They see things behind things. A broken teacup is a metaphor. A missed bus isn’t inconvenience — it’s divine timing. Their life, no matter how threadbare, has texture. Mysticism woven into the mundane. And in a world obsessed with survival, Pisces reminds us that soul matters too. That even in hardship, there’s love.

Pisces walks through life not as a consumer of the world, but as a translator of its hidden language. Where others see randomness or frustration, Pisces sees a sign from the universe. Where others see a cracked plate, Pisces sees a symbol of impermanence, resilience, or perhaps a love once shared. Their perception deepens life. While the world clutches and controls, Pisces floats, trusting the current, they know some things are meant to pass. Fighting the flow only exhausts the soul. Their trust comes from the hard-earned understanding that life’s meaning isn’t always found in stability, but in the subtle currents of change. When the world grows harsh, when everything becomes transactional, Pisces still lights a candle. They still see the art in cracked pavements and the flower growing through them. They remind us that soul — undefinable, unmonetizable, unmeasurable soul — still matters. Life, even stripped of luxury, can still be perfect. Even in hardship, Pisces finds — and offers — love. Not always in grand declarations, but in small, symbolic ways. A painted stone left in a garden. A note written in beautiful script. A smile when one is most needed. They do not shout. They feel. And in this feeling, they lift us from survival into something truer. In a world counting costs, Pisces continues to count meaning. And this quiet defiance — might just be the very thing that saves us all.

Pisces weeps, dreams, laughs, lets go, and sees. They survive by transforming their relationship to crisis. They find beauty in the ashes, humor in the absurdity, and a quiet, unshakeable truth behind the veil of it all. And in doing so, they teach us — gently, without sermons — that even now, especially now, life still holds magic. You just have to soften your eyes and see it.

Pisces is the soul who was never meant to live solely by bread or budget, but by dreams, by meaning, by a quiet rhythm that exists beneath the noise of this harsh world. So how should you cope during this cost of living chaos? Gently, creatively, and with a kind of emotional sensitivity that only you possess. First and foremost, honor your kindness. You were never made for the blunt force of capitalist urgency, and this is a blessing. But it also means you need to protect your inner world. Don’t let the fear and panic of others crash over your psychic shores. Limit your exposure to stress where you can. Create little rituals — a cup of tea in silence, a candle lit in the evening, a song you sing while washing dishes. Your power lies in imagination — use it. When the world is dark, you paint it in other colors. This is your alchemy. Write, draw, dream, sing. Let yourself retreat into beauty, then come back stronger. The crisis may want to flatten your spirit — don’t let it. Instead, elevate the moment. Turn survival into artful living. You do this better than anyone. Watch your boundaries, dear Pisces. You will feel everyone’s suffering. You’ll want to give your last slice of bread to a stranger — and maybe you will — but don’t let yourself become depleted. Your empathy must be balanced with self-compassion. Say no when needed. Save some love for yourself. You are not the world’s sponge. You are a stream, and you must keep flowing. And learn to let go. You know how. You’ve always known how. This is your greatest strength in these times — the ability to surrender what cannot be controlled, to breathe through the anxiety, and to trust that life, even in its ugliness, carries hidden gifts. Let go of what no longer serves you. Let go of expectations. Let go of fear when it becomes too loud. You are fluid. You move around obstacles by knowing the path is not always straight. Lastly, find meaning. Even in the smallest, strangest places. You see what others miss — the soul of the moment. This is what will keep you going now. So Pisces, let your spirit remain intact. Let your dreams remain alive. And let your heart — deep, vast, oceanic — continue to believe that even in a world consumed by numbers, love, beauty, and surrender are still the most powerful currencies of all.