By Albert Samaha
By Steve Weinstein
By Devon Maloney
By Tessa Stuart
By Alison Flowers
By Albert Samaha
By Jesse Jarnow
By Eric Tsetsi
ARIES [March 21–April 19] What I wish for you this week is that you won't be satisfied with mediocre truths; that you'll be a fussy perfectionist focused on cutting out waste, fraud, and delusion; that you'll be itchy to know more about the unacknowledged games that are being played. Frustration, I hope, will be your holy fuel. Unsweetened lemonade, I trust, will be your rejuvenating drink. These are blessings, Aries, not curses! I pray that you'll pick one of your scabs until it bleeds so the healing process can start over—the right way this time.
TAURUS ([April 20–May 20] What have you always wanted to yell from the pinnacle of the hill in the distance? This is the week to go there and yell it. What is that safe way of getting high that you've always wanted to try but never had the time for before? This is the week to try it. What is the alluring phenomenon that is always going on just outside the reach of your ordinary awareness—the seductive pull you have always somehow resisted? This is the time to dive in and explore it.
GEMINI [May 21–June 20] Adam and Eve were banished from the Garden of Eden because of an incident involving an apple, right? Wrong. Many Biblical scholars suspect the fruit in question was either a fig, grape, or pomegranate. I mention this, Gemini, because I think you'd be wise to review your own personal myth of exile. It's time to question the story you have been telling yourself about how your paradise got lost. Evidence you discover in the coming days just might suggest that everything you've believed is at least half-wrong—that your origins are different from what you imagine. And as for the forbidden fruit that supposedly led you astray: You may realize that it was actually a precious medicine.
CANCER [June 21–July 22] The coming week will be prime time to perform miracles without trying too hard. You'll probably have success if you refrain from worrying about achieving maximum success. The cosmic currents will be likely to bend and shape themselves to accommodate your deeper needs if you proceed on the assumption that they know, better than your little ego does, what's best for you.
LEO [July 23–August 22] Are you familiar with the phenomenon known as a fire whirl? It happens on rare occasions when a fire produces a tornado-like vortex that rises up vertically, spinning madly. It's beautiful to behold, but is not something you ever want to be close to. I bring this to your attention in the hope that you will not let yourself turn into the human equivalent of a fire whirl in the coming week. You're not yet close to being one, but there are signs you're headed that way. With just a modicum of adjustment, you can ensure that you'll be more like a blaze in a fireplace or a wild but controlled bonfire on a beach—not a fire whirl.
VIRGO [August 23–September 22] I was listening to a sports talk show on the radio. The host had recently discovered Twitter, and was pleased with how many fans he had already accumulated. But he was not at all happy with the words "Twitter" or "tweet." Too effeminate, he said. Not macho enough for a he-man like himself to use comfortably. In fact, he promised that he would never again refer to his Twitter messages as "tweets," but would hereafter call them "spurts." Instead of "Twitter," he would say "Twister." I encourage you to draw inspiration from his example, Virgo. You're in an astrological phase when you can and should reconfigure anything that doesn't suit your needs or accommodate your spirit, whether it's the language you use, the environments you hang out in, or the processes you're working on.
LIBRA [September 23–October 22] Years ago, The Andy Griffith Show ran for seven seasons on CBS. Its star, Any Griffith, played a mild-mannered sheriff in a small town in North Carolina. His sidekick was Barney Fife, a bumbling deputy with a sweet disposition. Shortly after he left the show, Griffith had a dream in which he thrashed and pummeled his co-star. When he asked his psychiatrist about the meaning of this dream violence, the shrink speculated that he was trying to kill off his old image. I recommend that exact strategy to you now, Libra. Don't actually wreak any real-life mayhem. Instead, see if you can have a dream or two in which you destroy a symbol of the life you're ready to leave behind.
SCORPIO [October 23–November 21] What life will you be living at noon on September 1, 2014? Who will you be? How thoroughly will your dreams have come true? What kind of beauty and truth and love and justice will you be serving? Will you look back at the time between August 27 and September 21, 2009, and sigh, "If only I had initiated my Five-Year Master Plan at that ripe astrological moment"? Or on September 1, 2014, will you instead be able to crow, "I can truly say that, in these past five years, I have become the president of my own life"?