ARIES (March 21-April 19): Advising an Aries to have more patience is like commanding a bonfire to burn in slow motion. Nevertheless, I am at least going to make the effort. Therefore, please be aware that if you would like to place yourself in maximum alignment with cosmic trends, you should find a way to be perfectly content as you watch and wait; you should figure out how to enjoy dwelling calmly in a state of trusting faith; and you should fantasize freely about the delights that will come to you if you cultivate quiet, relaxed confidence.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): Before the 1820s, the mosquito was unknown in Hawaii. But when whaling ships from distant lands began visiting, they brought hordes of the annoying creatures as stowaways in their water casks. I suggest you keep this scenario in mind in the coming week, Taurus; let it serve as a warning beacon. According to my astrological assessment, the new world you have recently begun to inhabit resembles a paradise without mosquitoes. You may have to take special measures to keep it that way, like prohibiting whaling ships from dropping anchor in your harbor—or the metaphorical equivalent.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): I hope you have a spiritual path. It doesn’t matter what kind, as long as you have some relationship with a benevolent source of life and love beyond your little ego. Having said that, I also want to advocate the importance of not taking your spiritual path too damn seriously. Grave fanaticism in any form, even if devoted to a noble cause, is dangerous not only to your mental health, but also to that of the people around you. This week it will be especially important for you to playfully mock that which you hold most sacred. Examples? Put underwear on a Buddha statue, insert a dirty limerick into your prayers to the Goddess, enjoy some heavy petting in a synagogue, visualize yourself tickling Jesus.
CANCER (June 21-July 22): I’m on my periodic Oracular Scavenger Hunt, wandering the globe trolling for fresh metaphors to inspire my prophecies. While visiting the Hawaiian island of Molokai, I’ve found one that is a good fit for your current astrological aspects. Though many roads crisscross Molokai’s 260-square-mile expanse, there is not a single traffic signal anywhere. By my reckoning, this closely resembles the terrain you will be traveling over in the next two weeks: not a red light in sight.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): I’d like to give fair warning to your inner critic, your pessimistic tendencies, and the part of your psyche that harbors lowered expectations. In the coming months, the astrological omens will be compelling me to forecast a high level of health, happiness, and “hallelujah” shouting. So if you would prefer to remain stuck in outmoded fantasies about your unworthiness, I suggest you avoid my horoscopes for the foreseeable future. If, on the other hand, you’re ready to boost your faith in your ability to get what you want, please stay tuned.
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): I’m smarter in some parts of the earth than in others. In Florence, Amsterdam, and Milwaukee, my IQ is off the charts. In Munich, Madrid, and Washington, D.C., I’m rather dull witted. Even in Northern California, where I usually live, some places are more conducive to my higher brain functioning. I’m an idiot on Market Street in San Francisco, for example, whereas I’m awash in wise insights whenever I set foot on Mt. Tamalpais. What’s this about? The specialized branch of astrology called astrocartography would say that the full potentials of my horoscope are more likely to emerge in certain power spots. In the coming weeks, Virgo, I urge you to investigate the possibility that this phenomenon holds true for you, too. Wander around and test to see where you feel most in tune with your deep, brilliant self.
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): At a recent concert, devotional singer Krishna Das recounted a story of escorting his revered teachers, a frail old Indian couple, to an acupuncturist in New York. They had to walk through a neighborhood dominated by strip clubs, prostitutes, and drug dealers. Every few feet, a new salesperson approached with an offer of crack, weed, crank, or sexual adventures. Krishna Das worried about subjecting his beloved guides to such a degrading experience, but they were unfazed. “This is heaven,” said the woman. When a surprised Krishna Das asked what she meant, she replied, “Heaven is any place where one’s needs can be met.” My wish for you this week, Libra, is that you be as open-minded as she was about where heaven might reside for you.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Scorpio Rachel Ticotin has appeared in many movies, including Con Air and Full Disclosure, but my favorite is Total Recall. Starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, it’s a science fiction thriller that largely takes place on a human colony on Mars. Ticotin plays a sleazy but demure hooker who is secretly a rebel freedom fighter plotting to overthrow the corrupt, oppressive government. Can you imagine any better role for a Scorpio? It’s a perfect example of how your tribe’s dark side can be expressed constructively. I suggest you find or create your own equivalent in the coming weeks.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): A British veterinary nurse saved the life of a five-foot king snake recently. While giving birth, Nipper stopped breathing, whereupon Claire Farina administered mouth-to-mouth resuscitation until the creature’s respiration resumed. I’m not predicting you will literally give the kiss of life to a serpent in the coming week, but I imagine you’ll pull off the metaphorical equivalent. How, exactly, I can’t say. Will you rescue a hissing slitherer? Will you expand your capacity to to express wild kindness?
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): After much research, I decided to stay at the Napili Sunset condos during my stay on Maui. The travel guide promised that for a modest price I’d enjoy views of ocean and garden. Now as I sit composing your horoscope on my lanai at the Napili Sunset, I can indeed see aquamarine waves breaking majestically in the distance. In the foreground, my eyes are thrilled by the sight of lush orange hibiscus flowers and red torch ginger. The only element not mentioned in the guidebook is a parking lot where there’s a large dumpster crammed so full of garbage bags that the lid can’t close. Will I let this intrusion spoil my idyllic enjoyment? Hell, no. Likewise, Capricorn, I hope you won’t let a single glitch darken your otherwise fantastic run of good fortune in the coming week.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): “I am superior to you only in one point,” Narcissus tells Goldmund in Herman Hesse’s novel Narcissus and Goldmund. “I’m awake, whereas you are only half awake, or completely asleep sometimes. I call a man awake who knows in his conscious reason his innermost unreasonable force, drives, and weaknesses, and knows how to deal with them.” I am borrowing this pithy little speech for your horoscope, Aquarius. You, too, are only half-awake. But you’re now in prime time to find out much more about your innermost unreasonable force, drives, and weaknesses—and become more skilled in dealing with them.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): Western science and religion have differing views on how the universe was created, but they agree that it happened a long time ago. Tantra and other less publicized spiritual traditions, on the other hand, assert that the universe is re-created anew in every moment through the divinely erotic play of God and Goddess. They say that if we humans treat lovemaking as an experimental sacrament, we can attune ourselves to the union of the two primal deities and, in a sense, participate in the ongoing creation of the world. So are you up for some cosmos-generating sex this week? The astrological omens say you are.
Homework: Make a prediction about what age you will be when you finally know exactly who you are. Testify at: beautyandtruth.com