ARIES (March 21–April 19): You wouldn’t plant a rosebush in a spot where a geyser erupts periodically, would you? You wouldn’t build a romantic hideaway on the bank of a river that floods every year, right? So please say you won’t be careless as you track down the best place to express your love and fertility in the future. Swear to me that you’ll research the possibilities with forethought and a passion for detail.
TAURUS (April 20–May 20): About every 90 seconds, there’s an earthquake somewhere on the planet. Most are very small and aren’t felt by normal human beings. But I predict that in the coming days you may actually be aware of those subtle tremors arising from deep in the planet—just as I expect you’ll be highly attuned to every little change in the weather and each minute shift in the emotional atmosphere of your immediate environment. In fact, Taurus, you may soon be more sensitive than you’ve been in years. You’ll probably also be impressionable, perceptive, empathetic, and even psychic.
GEMINI (May 21–June 20): The average major-league baseball game lasts nearly three hours, but the time when the ball is actually in play is only about 10 minutes. In other words, there’s a lot of waiting around between brief flurries of activity. Sound familiar, Gemini? From what I can tell, your life recently has had a lot of prolonged stretches when nothing much of interest or importance has happened. I bet that will soon change, though. According to my reading of the astrological omens, the action is about to heat up. Get ready to score in double figures.
CANCER (June 21–July 22): After mating for the first and only time, a young queen ant burrows underground, where she lays about 20 eggs a day for
10 years. Sometimes you remind me of her, Cancerian—lately, for instance. You have been animated by an almost insatiable drive to create. You’ve been spinning out little miracles and making everything fresh again and again and again. The astrological omens say you’ll need to take a break soon. Do this under your own power, please, so that fate doesn’t have to force you to do it.
LEO (July 23–Aug. 22): Dear Dr. Brezsny: I was wondering if you had any information about Beyonders, people who were born under no star and who are therefore not ruled by the stars. —Leo Goddess, a/k/a Wannabe Beyonder
Dear Wannabe: It’s impossible to be born under no star. However, it’s true that periodically we all go through periods when we’re relatively free from the authority of the stars we were born under. During these times, we’re less susceptible to the whims of fate and the demands of the past and the compulsions of karma. Our willpower has more breathing room. It happens to be one of those phases for you Leos right now. At least temporarily, you’re like a Beyonder.
VIRGO (Aug. 23–Sept. 22): Writing in The New York Times, Nicholas Kristof reported that the media have been as guilty of ignoring the ongoing genocide in Darfur as the Bush administration has been. In June, he said, the main TV news programs collectively ran 55 times more stories about the Michael Jackson trial than they did about East Africa’s crisis. CBS gave three minutes of coverage to Darfur in all of 2004, and NBC five minutes. As soon as you finish reading this horoscope, Virgo, I hope you will take aggressive action to avoid falling victim to equally misplaced priorities in your personal life. Don’t you dare let trivial spectacles divert you from healing the sorest spot in your world.
LIBRA (Sept. 23–Oct. 22): This week’s new word, class, is “bravura.” Derived from an old Italian word for “bold,” it has two meanings: (1) skill and brilliance exhibited in a performance or task, (2) a display of incredible daring. In the coming week, I urge you to write “I have bravura” on your palm, on your mirror, and anywhere else your eyes frequently gaze upon. If you keep reminding yourself that you now have the capacity to pull off acts of bravura, you will in fact pull them off.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23–Nov. 21): It’s unlikely that you or I or anyone we know will become famous enough to earn a mention in the historical records of the future. The odds are probably 10 million to 1. But if you do manage to make such a prominent name for yourself that our descendants will be able to read about your exploits and contributions, it could very well be because of events you set in motion during the next six weeks. The possibility that you will make a mark on eternity is as great as it has ever been.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): There’s a three-mile stretch of Interstate 880 south of Oakland, California, that I call the Singing Highway. For reasons I don’t understand, it generates low humming melodies every time I drive over it, similar to the guttural chants of Tibetan monks. Sometimes I swear I can even hear lyrics. Today, for example, I was driving to the airport. My mind turned to you, my Sagittarian readers. Yours was the only horoscope I had left to write for this week, and to pass the time I thought I’d scavenge around for fresh intuitions. Just then I reached the Singing Highway, and I swear I began hearing the same lyric repeating over and over again: “a shortcut to the path with heart/a shortcut to the path with heart/a shortcut to the path with heart.” Coincidence? I don’t think so.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22–Jan. 19): Of all the animals in the world, the fly is the most unloved. It annoys us with its zigzag buzzing. When it lands in our food, we lose our appetite, knowing it carries residues of the disgusting things it has preyed on. But in the creation story of the Chelan Indians, the fly is given a heroic role to play because of its speed. In modern parlance, people say they’d like to be a fly on the wall in a place where an interesting conversation takes place. And the ancient Roman poet Virgil had a pet fly that saved him a fortune. When the fly died, he gave it a large funeral and declared its final resting place a cemetery, thereby avoiding a sizable land tax through a legal loophole. In the coming weeks, Capricorn, I predict you will find similar redemption in an influence you have always regarded as comparable to the fly’s.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20–Feb. 18): When rock star Courtney Love asked me for advice about her relationship with rock star Trent Reznor a few years ago, I told her the same thing I’ll tell you now: Empty your brain of everything you think you know about the person who both excites you and drives you crazy. Drop all of your fantasies and projections and expectations. As soon as you do, you will clearly see that person is not a diabolical angel whose main task in life is to rouse your obsessive thoughts but rather a flawed human being who has only a partial resemblance to what you imagine him or her to be. When you achieve that enlightened state, then and only then will there be even a shred of hope that you two can have an authentic, vital, mutually enriching relationship.
PISCES (Feb. 19–March 20): According to my analysis of the astrological omens, Pisces, the week ahead will be overflowing with paradox. Lucky danger may be headed your way, or a risky opportunity that will feel like an ordeal even as it brings out the best in you. I also wouldn’t be surprised if you had encounters with benevolent trouble, exacting love, and weighty silliness. To thrive in the midst of these rich anomalies, you should suspend any prejudices you might have against puzzling evidence. Don’t just tolerate the contradictions—love them.
HOMEWORK Imagine a moral code rooted in beauty, love, pleasure, and liberation instead of order, control, repression, and fear. Tell me about it at firstname.lastname@example.org