A belief you held at twenty with your whole chest, and which you now describe like a costume you wore for a season before it stopped fitting. You were born with Pluto in your ninth house, the house of the horizon and the map on the wall and the question too big for any one room, so your sense of meaning does not just evolve, it gets torn down to the studs and rebuilt. Roughly every fifteen years the whole structure goes, and each rebuilding takes a piece of you with it. The trap is the convert's heat: gripping the new truth with the exact fundamentalism you once gripped the old one, certain all over again. So stay teachable on purpose. Walk toward the ideas that make you uncomfortable rather than around them. The wisdom this placement keeps offering is earned only by being willing to be wrong about the largest things, more than once, and to take it with some grace.