Free Will Astrology: July 20-26, 2011
ARIES [March 21–April 19] I dreamed you were in a cake store. Every delicious kind of cake you could imagine was there: carrot cake, strawberry cheesecake, chocolate cake, birthday cakes. Sadly, there was a problem: You weren't allowed to buy anything. A big sign on the wall said, "Absolutely no cakes available for Aries." What do you think my dream means? And what are you going to do about it? I suggest that in my next dream, you get a friend to buy a cake for you. Or go to a different cake store. One way or another, the astrological omens say it's high time for you get the cake you want.
TAURUS [April 20–May 20] Fill in the blanks, Taurus. Don't let the blanks remain vacant and barren any longer. Just fill in the freaking blanks with whatever you've got to fill them with—with borrowed mojo, with any miscellaneous material you have at hand. I realize you may be tempted to wait around for a supposedly more ideal moment, but I'm here to tell you that this is as ideal as it gets. So please express the hell out of yourself in the empty spaces, my dear; create yourself anew in the void—however improvisational or inexact it might feel.
GEMINI [May 21–June 20] "Do you know how to resolve an unresolvable paradox?" asked a Facebook friend named Pi. He answered his own question: "You figure out the 'error' in the initial premise or assumption." And that's my prescription for you this week, Gemini. Do not be tempted to bang your head against the wall so as to shake loose a nonexistent answer to the wrong question. Instead, stop yourself in the middle of your angst and think: "What would be a more productive way to formulate the riddle I need to untangle?"
CANCER [June 21–July 22] A job-seeker named Travis Broyles put an ad on Craigslist. Among the tasks he said he would perform for money were the following: draw your face on a balloon; email you a list of 250 things he likes about you; build you a cardboard car and make vroom-vroom sounds while you drive it; rename your Pokemon; or provide you with star treatment for a month, hiding in the bushes like a paparazzi and taking candid photos of you. I recommend that you come up with your own version of a list like this. It will help stimulate your imagination about what gifts you have to offer the world.
LEO [July 23–August 22] As I ponder your immediate future, I'm reminded of a scene from The Simpsons. Here's the situation: While visiting the home of a colleague, the superintendent is surprised to witness an anomalous outbreak of spectacular light. "Aurora Borealis?" he exclaims. "At this time of year? At this time of day? In this part of the country? Localized entirely within your kitchen?" "Yes," replies the colleague. I suspect that you will soon enjoy a metaphorically comparable visitation, Leo.
VIRGO [August 23–September 22] My colleague Antero Alli praises the value of anxiety. He says that when you feel that emotion, it's because you're experiencing more uncertainty than you like to—and that can be a good thing. It could mean you're about to experience the fertility that comes from wading into the unknown. An outbreak of novelty may be imminent, giving you the chance to welcome interesting surprises into your life. In fact, says Alli, the anxiety that comes from unpredictable mysteries may herald the arrival of an influx of creativity.
LIBRA [September 23–October 22] "The I Ching counsels that if we are associating with others who are not our true peers," says Caroline Casey, "our real allies cannot find us." Please apply this test to yourself, Libra. If, after taking inventory, you find that your circle is largely composed of cohorts and comrades who match your levels of vitality and intelligence, that will be excellent news; it will signal an opportunity to begin working on an upgraded version of your social life that will increase your access to synergy and symbiosis even further. But if your survey reveals that you're hanging out too much with people whose energy doesn't match yours, it will be time for a metamorphosis.
SCORPIO [October 23–November 21] There's a lot of graffiti scrawled in a variety of languages on St. Peter's Basilica in Vatican City. A fairly recent arrival is a plea to resuscitate a defunct American TV sitcom. "God, Bring back Arrested Development," the prayer reads. According to my reading of the astrological omens, Scorpio, now would be a good time for you to be equally cheeky in promoting one of your pet causes. Consider the possibility of taking your case to a higher authority. To fight for what's right, you may have to make your mark in a place whose sphere of influence is bigger than yours.
SAGITTARIUS [November 22–December 21] Do you stare for hours every day into little screens like those on smart phones, computer monitors, and TVs? If so, I recommend that you tear your gaze away from them more than usual in the coming week. A change in your brain chemistry needs to happen, and one good way to accomplish it will be to feast your eyes on vast panoramas and expansive natural scenes. Doing so will invigorate your thinking about the design and contours of your own destiny, and that would be in sweet alignment with the astrological omens. So catch regular views of the big picture, Sagittarius. Treat clouds and birds and stars as if they were restorative messages from the wide-open future. Gaze lovingly at the big sky.
CAPRICORN [December 22–January 19] A Facebook friend posted a quote by seminal psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud: "Being entirely honest with oneself is a worthwhile exercise." In response, another Facebooker named Dean Robinson disagreed: "Oh, I say let yourself have a little denial, and touch base with reality on a need-to-know basis." Another respondent named Paulie Cerra took that sentiment one step further: "Reality and I have an understanding. I don't mess with it and it doesn't mess with me." Which of those three approaches are you inclined to pursue, Capricorn? In light of the current astrological omens, I suggest you try the first one for at least the next two weeks.
AQUARIUS [January 20–February 18] You need to tell stories. It's not just a good idea; it's urgent. There's a backlog of narratives clogging up your depths. It's like you have become too big of a secret to the world. So please find a way to share the narratives that are smoldering inside you—with the emphasis on the word "graceful." I don't want your tales to suddenly erupt like a volcano all over everything at the wrong time and place. You need a receptive audience and the proper setting.
PISCES [February 19–March 20] Piscean actor Javier Bardem said this to Parade magazine: "I don't know if I'll get to heaven. I'm a bad boy. Heaven must be nice, but is it too boring? Maybe you can get an apartment there and then go to hell for the weekends." I caution all you other Pisceans against pursuing this line of thought in the coming weeks. You may imagine that you can get away with sneaking away to hell for just a couple of days a week, but I don't share that optimism. My advice is to rack your brains to drum up as much adventure as possible in safety zones and sanctuaries where you know for sure you'll stay healthy and sane.
Homework: Don't get back to where you once belonged. Go forward to where you've got to belong in the future. Testify at FreeWillAstrology.com.
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