By Alex Distefano
By Scott Snowden
By Anna Merlan
By Steve Almond
By Jena Ardell
By Jon Campbell
By Alan Scherstuhl
By Tessa Stuart
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): "Most people experience 'cubicle creativity,' " says businessman Gerald Haman. "The size of their ideas is directly proportional to the space they have in which to think." Just in case this is true, Sagittarius, I urge you to expand the box you occupy while dreaming up solutions to problems and fantasizing about the adventures you want to embark on. It's time to stretch the boundaries in every way you can imagine.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): "Dear Rob: Last night I dreamt that I finally met the soul mate I've been looking for all these years. We were making love in a limousine that was driving us to the church where we would be married. Then a terrible thing happened. Right there in my arms, my perfect lover turned into a toothless, stinking geezer whose sparse white hair was falling out in my hands. I shrieked and ran out of the car. Can you interpret my dream for me? Crushed Capricorn." Dear Crushed: Your dream may mean that your romantic ideals have become outmoded; your long-standing fantasies about what constitutes your perfect lover are no longer relevant. It's probably time to adjust your definitions.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): To get in a mood to take maximum advantage of the cosmic currents, go to tinyurl.com/25sgyx and read Dara Wier's poem "A Modern Version of the Way the Rosary Was Once Said Throughout Western Europe in the Late Middle Ages." What she expresses there is exactly the attitude you should cultivate. Here's an excerpt: "I'm not sewing velvet patches on a woolen blanket, not putting silver buttons back where they belong, not sweeping or folding, not in my right mind, not knowing what I owe or to whom I should bow down or thank or praise, no neither am I putting aside, not storing up good deeds I'll need when I need bailing out . . . nor do I wish to settle old scores, no not keeping wolves at bay, and I'm not disturbing antbeds, not in touch with fine madness, no . . . I'm not hiding under the kitchen table not wanting to listen anymore . . . nor am I staying awake in case I might miss something, no, I'm not staring forever into a fire, nor walking through a rainstorm into a cypress grove, no, and I'm not waiting for lightning to strike."
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): While browsing at the garden store, I saw an item that would be perfect for your current metaphorical needs: rose gloves. They're specially designed to protect you while working with those lush but thorny flowers. They feature padded palms, reinforced fingertips, and extra-long gauntlets that safeguard your flesh up to the elbow. As you play with and care for your own metaphorical version of the paradoxical rose in the coming days, I suggest that you arm yourself with equivalent protective measures.