By Jared Chausow
By Katie Toth
By Elizabeth Flock
By Albert Samaha
By Anna Merlan
By Jon Campbell
By Jon Campbell
By Albert Samaha
ARIES [March 21–April 19] There was a time when wetlands were considered dismal and unproductive. At best, they were thought to be a waste of space, and at worst, stinky breeding grounds for insect pests. For more than 200 years, many marshes and swamps were filled with dirt and transformed into places suitable for farms and houses. But all that has changed in the past 30 years. Science has rehabilitated the reputation of wetlands, showing how crucial they are. They clean toxins from water, help control floods and soil erosion, and are home to a lot of biological diversity. The coming weeks would be an excellent time for you to make a comparable conversion. Something you once demeaned or underestimated could become an inspirational catalyst.
TAURUS [April 20–May 20] In the coming week, you will have the potential to articulate what has never been spoken before and name truths that everyone has been avoiding. Uncoincidentally, you may also be able to hear what you've never been able to hear up until now and tune in to truths you've been oblivious to. As you might imagine, Taurus, you must fully activate both of these capacities in order for either to function at its best.
GEMINI [May 21–June 20] Nature's rhythm is cyclical. If you're smart, you honor that flow by periodically letting parts of your world wither or go to sleep. If you're not so smart, you set yourself up for needless pain by indulging in the delusion that you can enjoy uninterrupted growth. According to my reading of the astrological omens, Gemini, this is your time to explore the creative possibilities of ebbing and slackening. Ask yourself the following question, which I've borrowed from the Jungian author Clarissa Pinkola Estés: "What must I allow to die today in order to generate more life tomorrow?"
CANCER [June 21–July 22] Pregnant women sometimes have unusual cravings. From the fourth to sixth month of her daughter's gestation period, for example, my friend, Marta, was on occasion beset by the longing to eat toothpaste. I've known other women who fantasized about nibbling on mud, coffee grounds, and chalk. Fortunately, they all resisted the urge, which is what health practitioners recommend. Instead, they tried to figure out if their bodies were trying to tell them about some legitimate deficiency of vitamins or minerals. I offer this to you as a metaphor to keep in mind. As your own special creation ripens, you may experience odd desires. Don't necessarily take them at face value.
LEO [July 23–August 22] It might be tempting to turn your home into a womb-like sanctuary and explore the mysteries of doing absolutely nothing while clad in your pajamas. And, frankly, this might be a good idea. After the risks you've taken to reach out to the other side, after the bridges you've built in the midst of the storms, after the skirmishes you've fought in the Gossip Wars, you have every right to retreat and get your homebody persona humming at a higher vibration. So I say: Be meticulously leisurely as you celebrate the deep pleasures of self-care.
VIRGO [August 23–September 22] "Hey Rob: I was having trouble finishing my novel— typical writer's block. So I sidetracked myself into making silly creative projects—papier-mâche chickens, masks made out of junk mail, collages incorporating bottle caps and dryer lint. I can't say any of it is 'art,' but I feel creative again and my house is full of colorful stuff I whipped up myself. If you wait to be perfect, I concluded, you'll never make anything. I tried something I knew I'd be bad at, so failure didn't matter. Now I'm branching out with my inadequacy—not waiting for Mr. Perfect, but having a beer with Joe Flawed, forgetting to be right all the time, admitting that I haven't a clue. I've become smilingly, brilliantly dumb. —Inappropriate Virgo." Dear Inappropriate: Congrats! You're doing exactly what I want to advise all Virgos everywhere to try.
LIBRA [September 23–October 22] At a yard sale today, I paid a dollar for a horoscope book with missing pages with a forecast for Libra for the first part of November, and this struck me as even more useful than the horoscope I had composed. I'm providing it here. "The graceful dragonfly lives for just a few months. But a sequoia tree's time on earth can last 2,000 years. In the same way, some bonds, some worlds, endure for a mere blink in eternity, while others are destined to outfox the ravages of time. What will be the lifespan of the dream you recently hatched, Libra? It is time to decide and take action."
SCORPIO [October 23–November 21] Your anti-role model is the Scorpio warrior, U.S. General George Patton, also known as "Old Blood and Guts." He once said, "Practically everyone but myself is a pusillanimous son of a bitch." That's an attitude you should especially avoid, since your success will depend on you seeing the best in people—even if they sometimes don't seem to warrant it. PS: It may be OK to think of yourself as "Old Blood and Guts" if and only if you dedicate your ferocity to the service of smart love and ingenious collaboration.