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] The film Tuck Everlasting tells the story of a family that becomes immortal after drinking from a magical spring. The two parents and their sons hide their gift from the world, but a mysterious man in a yellow suit finds out about their secret. At one point, this man has a conversation with a pastor. "What if you could be eternal?" he asks. "Without having to face the uncertainty of death. Forever young." The priest is rattled. "You speak blasphemy, sir," he protests. "Fluently," replies the man. You have that mandate right now, Aries: to speak blasphemy fluently, as well as any other rebellious diction. It's time to rise up and express the unspeakable, the controversial, the revolutionary.
TAURUS [April 20–May 20] There's evidence that the Amazon used to flow in the opposite direction from what it does now. Ages ago, its currents traveled westward from the Atlantic toward the Pacific. I'd like you to hold that image in mind as you contemplate a monumental shift of course in your own life. Let it serve as a surprising symbol of what's possible—as a promise that you could actually manage to reverse a current that may seem immutable.
GEMINI [May 21–June 20] In Bang the Drum Slowly, baseball players cheat their fans out of money by engaging them in a card game called TEGWAR, an acronym for The Exciting Game Without Any Rules. Judging from your current astrological omens, I'd say it's time for you to play a more ethical version of this game. Strictly speaking, the game can have rules, but they may be changed at any time, and new ones may be added as needed. The object of your brand of TEGWAR is to have as much smart fun as possible without anyone getting hurt.
CANCER [June 21–July 22] "The only way to let your dreams come true is to wake up," said Paul Valery. Here's how I think that applies to you right now. You've become too engrossed in the mythic, phantasmagorical feelings of your fantasies, and that's interfering with your ability to muster all of the kick-ass pragmatism and supercharged willpower you will need to actually make your fantasies come to life. In other words, Cancerian, I advise you to snap out of your creamy dreamy haze with a self-induced wake-up call. Stop floating and start grunting.
LEO [July 23–August 22] As we began our first session, the 79-year-old Jungian psychotherapist looked at me with mischief in her eyes and said, "Go ahead—surprise me! What have you got?" I was torn. Part of me felt like rising to her challenge: I fantasized about telling her such versions of my adventures that they would outstrip any tales she'd heard in her long service as a deep listener. But in the end, I chose to tell the truth. I felt it was more important to explore my life's actual mysteries than to entertain her. And that was the first healing she helped me achieve. I suspect a similar test is ahead for you, Leo. Would you rather be honest or impress people?
VIRGO [August 23–September 22] I predict that at no time in the coming weeks will anyone be justified in saying to you, "Your ego has been writing checks that your body can't cash." Nor will anyone have any reason to tell you, "You'd better start running if you hope to catch up with your dreams," or "You may be an old soul but you've been acting like a naive punk." No, Virgo, I firmly believe that none of those accusations will be hurled at you. Why? Because from what I can tell, all of the various parts of your psyche will be in a greater state of collaborative unity than they've been in for a long time. Your alienation from yourself will be at an all-time low, as will your levels of hypocrisy.
LIBRA [September 23–October 22] I'm brave in some ways, cowardly in others. I've gone parasailing, assisted in the birth of two children, and explored the abyss of my own unconscious. But I'm scared of confined spaces, can't bring myself to shoot a gun, and am a sissy when it comes time to be around people who are dying. I imagine that you, too, have areas of courage and timidity. And I suspect that in the coming weeks you will be called to a challenge. See if you can transfer some of the nervy power you're able to summon in one sphere to bolster you in the place where you're a wimp.
SCORPIO [October 23–November 21] The Kinky Dream and Funky Paradise chapter of your cycle has arrived—a phase when you'll have license to let your imagination run wilder than usual. In fact, it'll be time to escape into fantasyland and try on a new identity, complete with a host of nicknames. Your new hip-hop name could be "Extasy TrixxMaster." Your mystic superhero name could be "Mountain Wind Storm." Your Irish prostitute name could be "Luscious X. Mahoney."
SAGITTARIUS [November 22–December 21] The coming weeks could be a Golden Age for your perceptiveness. If you're even moderately aligned with the cosmic rhythms, you will be able to discern hidden agendas that no one else has spotted, catch clues that have been hidden, and be able to recognize and register interesting sights you've previously been blind to. To maximize your ability to cash in on this fantastic opportunity, say this affirmation frequently: "My eyes are working twice as well as usual. I can see things I don't normally notice."
CAPRICORN [December 22–January 19] If you were the star of a fairy tale in which a spell had been placed on you, you would find a way to break that spell sometime in the next seven months. If you were the hero of a myth about a royal child abandoned in the wasteland by your evil nurse and raised by emotionally clumsy but well-meaning gnomes, your exile would soon end; your real parents, the king and queen, would find you after a long search, and your birthright would be restored. Now translate these themes into the actual circumstances of your life, Capricorn. Are you ready to do what it takes to achieve a healing and restoration that have been a long time coming?
AQUARIUS [January 20–February 18] What is sacred? Friedrich Nietzsche said it was anything that you cannot or will not laugh at. But I have the exact opposite view. If I'm unable to crack a joke about what I regard as holy, then it's not holy. For me, part of what makes an idea or person or object holy is its power to animate my sense of humor and put me in the mood to play. Where do you stand on this issue, Aquarius? If you're aligned with my view, you will have some wonderful opportunities to commune with the sacred in the coming days.
PISCES [February 19–March 20] In the chorus of my band's song "Apathy and Ignorance," I sing, "What is the difference between apathy and ignorance?" and the other two singers chant, "I don't know and I don't care." I recommend you make that chant your mantra in the coming days, Pisces: "I don't know and I don't care." You really do need to experiment with a mischievous state of mind that is blithely heedless of what anyone thinks about anything. You have the right and the privilege to be free of expectations, precedents, and dogmas. Trust you intuition above all other influences! It's an excellent time to at least temporarily declare your independence from everything that's not interesting or useful or helpful or appealing.
Homework: What part of yourself are you most scared of? Is it time to give that part a peace offering? Testify at FreeWillAstrology.com.