ARIES (March 21-April 19):
I sometimes supplement my astrological analyses with garbageological research. Sifting through someone’s rubbish can provide rich data that enhance the insights gleaned from more heavenly meditations. Knowing how crucial it is for you Rams to specialize in purification right now, I studied your tribe’s debris as I prepared your horoscope. After sending out a call through my grapevine, I got permission to paw through the trash cans of 22 Aries folks. My conclusion: You’re holding back! You should be throwing away much, much more: stuff that has outlived its usefulness, supposedly valuable belongings that you never touch, mementos that keep you enslaved to decaying dreams . . . Please understand that you’re at the heart of the purging and cleansing season.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20):
You now have access to the wonderful abundance of the primal phallus. Before you giggle, let me remind you that while the meaning of “phallus” includes the mere penis, it also goes far beyond. It is a mythic symbol of procreative power; the archetype of nature’s restless urge to regenerate itself; a force both physical and psychic, generous and fierce, protective and demanding. And you, Taurus, are now sitting atop a huge, throbbing source of this vital force.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20):
Even if you are an elite member of the cognoscenti or a pampered celebrity who hasn’t made your own toast in 10 years, I suggest you try on the virtues of the working-class approach to life. That means thinking with your body, being willing to get your hands dirty, and striving to create useful things. Coming at the world from this angle will ensure that your fine mind won’t lead you astray with sterile theories in the week ahead. If you want to know the bottom-line truth, listen to your physical feelings.
CANCER (June 21-July 22):
My daughter Zoe’s fifth-grade teacher Dave DeMartini once told me that when kids reach the age of 11, they’re likely to fire you as their manager. If you’re lucky, though, they’ll rehire you as their agent. In other words, children on the verge of adolescence no longer want your controlling direction, but may be interested in your thoughtful advice. I mention this, Cancer, because the astrological omens suggest you’re due for a similar transition with certain reliable authorities and experts in your life. It’s time to take back some of the power they have over you. If they cooperate, consider offering them a new position in which you’re less dependent on them.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22):
The high point of my book tour was at the huge Barnes & Noble store in New York City. Over 200 people showed up. They listened intently, asked great questions, and bought 72 copies of my book, The Televisionary Oracle. The low point of the tour was in Atlanta, where nine folks straggled in to a small store next to a Pizza Hut at a strip mall just off the interstate. Total sales there: three. I’m proud to say, though, that I gave my best effort at both gigs. As disappointed and embarrassed as I felt in Atlanta, I acted as if my tiny audience was just as important as the New York crowd. I hope my behavior can serve as an inspiration to you in the coming days, Leo, when you’ll face a similar test.
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22):
Now is actually a better time to trot out your New Year’s resolutions than January 1. Here are a few to get you started. (1) Resolve to stop fantasizing about work while you’re making love. (Vice versa is OK, though.) (2) Resolve to learn the difference between interesting puzzles that inspire you to mutate and boring riddles that numb your soul. (3) Resolve to stand on a hilltop and belly laugh in the direction of heaven until you have a spiritual orgasm. (4) Resolve to not let what you can’t do interfere with what you can do. (5) Just in case you are what you eat, resolve to eat chickens only if they’ve spent their lives running free.
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22):
Unexpected love songs are welling up within you, Libra—cries of the heart that are both ancient and fresh. Even if you think you can’t carry a tune, I urge you to unleash them with reckless glee, poignant ferocity, or both. If they seem monstrous or mortifying at first, trust them to evolve. Surrender to whatever uncanny or clichéd lyrics spill forth from the abyss of your longing. You need this release, my dear. The future of your emotional health and wealth requires you to tap into the unquenchably joyful, agonizingly sweet source where your deepest desires originate.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21):
At the bottom of a certain footlocker in a rundown garage at the edge of the city, there lies a fragment of magic that will change everything for you. If you communed with this thing even briefly, it would revolutionize your theories about how the world works. You would understand a series of past events whose enigmatic meaning has made it impossible to figure out the core purpose of your life. Alas, you will never locate this fragment of magic, Scorpio—not this week, not in a million years. Curiously, though, meditations you carry out in the coming days can achieve the same effect as if you had actually found the thing. Try this: Close your eyes and visualize a vivid fantasy in which you track down and open up that footlocker.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21):
“Dear Rob Brezsny: I’m curious as to what you’re like in person. Sometimes you seem to have this 1970s Las Vegas detective persona—tinted shades, very charming with the ladies and popular with the men. Other times I get a time-traveler vibe, like you’re visiting from a tantric wizard commune a hundred years in the future. When’s your next public appearance? I want to meet you.—Sagittarian Explorer.” Sagittarian: I’m glad I’m a mystery to you. If I can avoid getting enmeshed in people’s projections and expectations, I preserve my freedom to be myself and ensure that the gifts I give are inspired more by my desire to serve than by my ego’s tricks. By the way, that’s a good theme for you Centaurs to meditate on now.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19):
I predict this week will be a dicey, ticklish, but ultimately ennobling 168-hour masterpiece featuring guest appearances by several members of your personal hall of fame—including one future star you don’t fully appreciate yet. The tone for this epic will be set when you’re prompted to change your relationship with the one thing that would be hardest to live without. Before you know it, you’ll be invited to explore what’s way under the tip of the iceberg, and not long after that you will be asked to prove that freedom is never permanent but must be reinvented and reclaimed constantly.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18):
Have you sworn any sacred oaths lately? Or are you more comfortable with short-term promises and fleeting sensations? Have you made any brave commitments that will ask you to go deeper and farther than you’ve ever dared before? Or do you prefer the cheap excitement of bouncing along from surprise to surprise without any game plan? Have you cast any magic spells on yourself to release your subconscious mind from the old fixations that sap your power to pursue your dreams? Or are you still too fidgety to begin your life’s work in earnest and too terrified of maturity to give up the obsessions that have both entertained you and driven you crazy all these years?
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20):
To all of you with McJobs, I proclaim: There’s no excuse for not getting a real job by next March. Start dreaming and scheming about how to make it happen. To any of you who suffer from the enervating effect of McAmbitions and therefore aren’t bursting with energy every morning, I declare: Let the McFire in your belly die out. Then hunt down some better fuel and ignite a fresh blaze. To those of you who’ve risen to a position beyond your competence, I say: Don’t tolerate McSkills in yourself. Demand that you live up to higher standards, or else find capacities you’ll be more motivated to excel at.
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