By Jena Ardell
By Jon Campbell
By Alan Scherstuhl
By Tessa Stuart
By Roy Edroso
By Jon Campbell
By Albert Samaha
By Zachary D. Roberts
ARIES [March 21–April 19] Your power symbol for the week is an ant carrying a potato chip. It means you'll possess so much strength that you'll be able to hold aloft burdens that are much bigger than you. More than that, Aries, you'll look graceful doing it. And here's the kicker: That giant load you carry may ultimately provide nourishment not only for you, but also for everyone back at the nest.
TAURUS [April 20–May 20] Have you ever been filled with a terrible yearning to become something new? Do you know what it's like to be racked with a ferocious hunger to change your life? Speaking from experience, I know that such a state can sometimes feel heavy and dark. But I'm here to tell you that it can also be a tremendous asset. The key to transforming it into a gift, ironically, is to see it as a gift. So your assignment, Taurus, is to interpret your ache for transformation as a potent blessing. To do so will give you the power to perform magic you can't even imagine yet.
GEMINI [May 21–June 20] Ariel was going through a hard time: She'd been weaning herself from a painkiller she'd taken while recovering from surgery; her cat ran away; and there was a misunderstanding at work. One night, at a nightclub with her friend Leila, she spied her ex-boyfriend kissing some woman. A meltdown ensued: Ariel fled the club and ran sobbing into the street, where she hurled her shoes on top of a passing bus. Leila retrieved them and sat her down on a bench. "Because up until now you've displayed such exemplary grace in the face of chaos," Leila said, "I'm giving you a free Crazy Pass. It gives you a karma-free license to temporarily lose your mind." This compassionate humor helped Ariel feel more composed. The rest of the night she partied beautifully, achieving major relief and release without hurting herself. Now, Gemini, in accordance with the omens, I'm awarding you, too, a free Crazy Pass.
CANCER [June 21–July 22] It's finally the right time for you to hear a piece of advice that you weren't ready to hear before. If I had told you this any earlier, Cancer, you would've misinterpreted it at best or, at worst, had no idea what I was talking about. But in recent weeks, you've recovered a portion of your lost wildness, which means I can confidently reveal the following truth, courtesy of poet Charles Simic: "He who cannot howl will not find his pack."
LEO [July 23–August 22] There's oil on Saturn's moon, Titan! NASA reports that its spacecraft Cassini found vast lakes of liquid hydrocarbons. There's enough, from what I can tell, to supply 40 generations of humans with enough fuel to go joyriding in five-mile-a-gallon SUVs for a thousand years. In response to the revelation, militant patriots are already calling for the U.S. to invade and occupy Titan. In related news, I predict that a novel energy source will soon become available for your personal use, Leo. Luckily, it won't be nearly as hard to tap into as Titan's riches will be for the oil companies. It'll also be much better for the environment.
VIRGO [August 23–September 22] "Whatcha gonna do with your freedom?" asks Lakshmi Devi on "Freedom," a song from her CD, Raise a Holy Fire. Here's what she says she'll do with hers: "I choose to lose control in the presence of staggering beauty/I choose to be stripped of what is unreal." In my view, that's an epically brazen way to use one's freedom—right up there, in terms of radical moral zeal, with choosing to ease the suffering of everyone you encounter. With these examples to inspire you, Virgo, take some time to make an aggressive new formulation about how you'll use your growing freedom.
LIBRA [September 23–October 22] "Partner needed for mission from God," read the classified ad I spied online. "I'm driving across the country in a banana-yellow 1979 Cadillac Seville with a Lionel Richie photo dangling from the rearview mirror and the thousand-page manuscript of my autobiography piled in the trunk. The mission is driving to Mexico to find my biological father, a rancher. Swimming pools will be peed in, convenience stores trashed, and large sunglasses worn. If you accompany me, I'll pay you $1,000." In calling this to your attention, Libra, I'm not necessarily suggesting you take the guy up on his offer. However, I do hope you'll be alert for comparable proposals that will reward you for helping interesting characters carry out edgy, inspirational quests.
SCORPIO [October 23–November 21] If you hurt another person, you hurt yourself. The act of inflicting injury distorts you, making it more difficult for you to be in alignment with your highest potential. The converse is also true: When you hurt yourself, you inevitably hurt others. The damage you cause to yourself diminishes your ability to give your best gifts. Keep this in mind, Scorpio, as you celebrate Do No Harm Week. Be scrupulous in your intention to practice nonviolence in every way you can imagine.