ARIES (March 21–April 19): “Dear Rob: Could you please tell me how I can get the men I like to remove me from the pedestals they put me on? If something doesn’t change soon, I’ll have to call down the lightning and obliterate their delusions. Sorry if that sounds violent. It’s just that storms start building whenever I feel cramped by demands disguised as love.
—Over-Idolized Aries. Dear Over-Idolized: Good news! You’ve entered a phase that will be favorable for shattering naive projections and unrealistic expectations. You’ll also be skilled at escaping neediness that feels like a straitjacket.
TAURUS (April 20–May 20): When 46 English scholars completed their translation of the King James Bible in 1610, Taurus writer William Shakespeare was 46 years old. In their version of Psalm 46, the 46th word from the beginning is “shake” and the 46th word from the end is “spear.” Coincidence? I think not. Just as it’s no accident that a minute ago I finished reading Psalm 46, and am now composing your horoscope for the period that begins February 15, which is the 46th day of the year. As I write, I’m sitting in a café located at 46 Cabrillo Highway in Half Moon Bay, California. The people at the table next to me are celebrating their friend’s 46th birthday, and out the window I can see a runway where there’s a small plane with a 46 painted on its side. My conclusion? 46 is your lucky number, Taurus, and you’re about to harvest about 46 tons of eerily delightful synchronicities.
GEMINI (May 21–June 20): You seem to be suffering, although in an interesting way, from a metaphysical version of jet lag. Maybe it’s because you’ve been stretching your boundaries with such experimental vigor. Or maybe it’s because you’ve been engaging in a form of time-travel, exploring the past and future in your dreams and fantasies. In any case, you can take comfort in the knowledge that the warps and tweaks you’re dealing with are the results of your brave choices. Congratulations as well for having churned up the most useful riddles you’ve had to ponder since you jumped out of your skin last year.
CANCER (June 21–July 22):
I expect you’ll soon be communing with sore spots and delicate feelings, Cancerian. Allergies may be featured prominently as well—if not the literal kind, then maybe the metaphorical version. People might be extra ticklish, sometimes to the point of irritability. And yet all the squirming will actually be a good sign. It’ll mean that one of your most confounding contradictions is close to being resolved. For best results, act decisively at the moment when your vulnerability is most intense.
LEO (July 23–Aug. 22):
Imagine this scene. You’re really thirsty—so dehydrated that you’re feeling faint. Yet here’s the weird thing: You’re walking along the bank of a wide river that’s so clear you could see the bottom if you looked. But you’re not looking. In fact, you seem oblivious to the surging force of nature just a few yards away. Is it invisible to you? Are you so preoccupied with your suffering that you’re blind to the very source that would end your suffering? Up ahead you see a man. As you approach, you see he’s holding a glass of water. You run to him and beg him to let you drink. He readily agrees. Gratefully, you guzzle the precious liquid, then thank him profusely. As you walk away, he calls after you, “By the way, there’s a lot more water over there,” and he points to the river. Do you hear him? If you hear him, do you believe him? Or do you keep walking, hoping to find another man with another glass somewhere up ahead?
VIRGO (Aug. 23–Sept. 22): It’s time to take down the “Under Construction” signs and clean up the messes from your works in progress. At least for now, your heart has lost its drive for further renovation and rehabilitation. Whether you think you’re ready or not, then, it’s time for a grand re-opening. I suggest you offer free toasters or other incentives to pull in new clients, as well as to coax disaffected old ones into returning. It may also help to put up an “Under New Management” sign.
LIBRA (Sept. 23–Oct. 22): “What have you learned so far this year?” I asked my newsletter’s readers recently. “I’ve learned that asking for what I want is the first step toward actually getting it,” wrote Sarah Pearson. “And I’ve learned that the journey you take to try and escape your fate can be as interesting as the fate itself.” Of all the lessons I’d love you to learn in the first half of 2007, Libra, those two are my favorites.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23–Nov. 21): “My God, these folks don’t know how to love,” wrote novelist D. H. Lawrence, “that’s why they love so easily.” He certainly wasn’t referring to people from your tribe. You Scorpios may find it easy to entertain gusts of lust, but you’re too smart about real love to dive casually into its mysteries. You want to be a perpetual student who’s in humble awe of the primal power of deep attraction. You know intimately that no matter how sweet and light love may sometimes feel, it always has the potential to sweep you into the unpredictable depths and change everything forever. Meditate further on these matters; it’ll prepare you for the coming weeks.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): You want hot gold secrets to ripen in your dark candy soul? Then here’s what you do: Study the ocean’s memory for its teachings about moon victories. Extract a fresh green why from the book of storms you dreamed about. When the flowers’ clouds soar over your shadow, and when night’s funny sky has turned into warm, moist roars, you’ll know exactly how to look through the sun to the other side of your best fear. (The preceding horoscope may sound crazily lyrical, even poetically feral, but it’s a perfect embodiment of the attitude you should cultivate in order to have a successful week.)
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22–Jan. 19): I was watching Oprah’s TV show at 2 a.m. “Take off your shirt and look down,” she told me. I don’t automatically do everything the World’s Wealthiest Woman tells me, but I trust her a lot. So I did what she suggested. What she said next, however, revealed that she wasn’t actually talking to me. “Eight out of ten women are wearing the wrong bra!” she exclaimed. “Are you?” She then gave tips on how to select an undergarment that’s just right for a woman’s shape, size, and posture. I watched in perplexed awe. How could so many people be ignorant about such a fundamental thing? Later, while meditating on your astrological omens, I realized there’s a comparable phenomenon going on in your world. You’re missing something important about one of the basic facts of your life. Please find out what it is.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20—Feb. 18): In solidarity with eternal flux and in the name of all that’s both rowdy and holy, I hereby declare change to be a good thing. Furthermore, in accordance with the astrological omens, I announce that change is especially healthy for you right now. I mean it, Aquarius. Change is not only not a bad thing. It’s downright wonderful. So let’s rise up bravely, you and I, and proclaim that change is the essential nature of the universe—that it’s one of the most prominent and resplendent qualities of God Herself. From now until forevermore, let’s agree to celebrate change, to welcome it, to revere it—starting this week. Amen, namaste, blessed be, shalom, and hallelujah!
PISCES (Feb. 19—March 20):
I believe you’re climbing up out of the primordial ooze for the last time. You’re done! Never again will you be fully immersed in the stinky depths of hell on earth! Never again will moody despair comprise more than 49 percent of your worldview. From now on, you will be smarter about how to avoid unnecessary pain and misery. You will also be a better escape artist. Now go buy yourself a graduation present.
Homework Do a homemade ritual in which you vow to attract more blessings into your life. Report results by going to realastrology.com and clicking on “Email Rob.”