ARIES (March 21–April 19): The Only Three Questions That Count is the title of a book by Ken Fisher. I’m stealing it to use as the theme of your horoscope. So your next assignment, should you choose to accept it, is to craft three essential questions that will guide your journey between now and the end of 2007. These queries should excite your natural curiosity about the life issues that matter most to you. They should be carefully and precisely formulated. And they should motivate you to keep your mind wide open and hungry as you hunt for more insight into your most bafflingly interesting mysteries.
TAURUS (April 20–May 20): It’s about time you got the chance to be knocked on your ass by a flood of positive surprises and good feelings. I hope you’re trusting enough to go with the tidal flow, even if it does temporarily render you a bit woozy. Naturally you’d like to know if this giddy surrender will land you in trouble. Is there any chance that you’ll have to endure some karmic adjustment at a later date because of the fun you’re having now? Here’s my prediction: absolutely not. If anything, your enthusiastic cooperation with the free-form dazzle will shield you from any negative repercussions.
GEMINI (May 21–June 20): For years I made my home in a Northern California city called San Rafael. Near the end of my time there, I discovered that the Miwok Indians who lived in the area for hundreds of years before the white men stole it had a different name for it: Nanaguani. I was embarrassed that it had taken me so long to know such a fundamental fact about my own neighborhood. Make this the starting point for your assignment this week, Gemini, which is to learn more about the origins of the people and places and things that are most important to you.
CANCER (June 21–July 22): Reality is not all it’s cracked up to be. Just because millions of people suffer from the same hallucinations doesn’t mean those hallucinations are objectively true. I share Salvador Dalí’s perspective: “One day it will have to be officially admitted that what we have christened reality is an even greater illusion than the world of dreams.” For these reasons and many more, I don’t automatically dismiss people who live in their own fantasy worlds. Their dreamy concoctions may be no more deluded than those of normal people, and might be far more fun and amusing. Everything I just said is a preface for the main point of this horoscope, Cancerian, which is to give you temporary license to escape into the most beautiful mirage you can conjure up. Love your fantastic visions. Let your imagination run far, far away with you.
LEO (July 23–Aug. 22): The members of the Superbroke Brass and Tin and Strings Electric Marching Band Ensemble wrote to me at my MySpace page. “We’re here to fight the Evil Anti-Groove,” they said, “to liberate the SuperFlow of the Universe, and to loosen the Sphincter of the Collective Unconscious. I hope you’ll march with us someday.” I bring this to your attention, Leo, because your mission in the coming weeks should be much the same as theirs. Your personal success and satisfaction will be directly tied to how skilled you are at enhancing the well-being of your group, tribe, or community.
VIRGO (Aug. 23–Sept. 22): “Welcome to the never-ending brainstorm session,” reads an advertisement for Barclays Bank, one of the most successful financial institutions in the world. It’s an approach that has some similarities to the ethic that prevails at Toyota, the company that makes the world’s best-selling car. Its core principle is kaizen, a Japanese word meaning “continuous improvement,” though it can also be translated as “to take apart and put back together in a better way.” A blend of these attitudes is what I recommend to you during the coming weeks, Virgo: kaizen meets the never- ending brainstorm.
LIBRA (Sept. 23–Oct. 22):
“There can be no transformation of darkness into light and of apathy into movement without emotion,” wrote psychologist Carl Jung. That should be your motto in the coming week, Libra. Clear thinking and impeccable logic will not be sufficient to guide you to your next great adventure. You need the driving force of succulent emotion rising up in your solar plexus, the lush power of raw sensitivity piercing your heart. Feel as deep as you dare.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23–Nov. 21): Last year the top hedge-fund managers in the U.S. earned an average of $363 million a year. I haven’t been able to determine what percentage of those plutocrats are Scorpios. But whatever the number is, I predict it’ll rise during the remaining months of 2007. The members of your tribe—not just in the upper crust, but those of all crusts—are poised for the greatest financial upgrade in years. And one of the most favorable periods for expansion is dead ahead.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): This week may feel like a far-off trumpet playing mournfully at dawn as you awaken from a dream about buying pomegranates in a seedy but oddly appealing open-air market in Morocco. It could also resemble the sensation of talking on the phone long-distance to a person you both love and hate as rain falls on a metal roof and you gaze at a lunar eclipse that’s breaking through a round hole in the cloud cover. In other words, Sagittarius, it’ll be a time that’s rich in hard-to-classify emotions. I expect you’ll have experiences that will both spook you and energize you, both mesmerize you and liberate you.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22–Jan. 19): I wish I could get a newly discovered species of beetle or an underground lake of ice on Mars named after you. I wish I could buy you a temple in Bali, and arrange for you to have your fortune told by the blind prophetess of Rio de Janeiro. And I wish I could dress you in 200-year-old velvet robes and silk scarves once worn by Turkish royalty. You richly deserve honors and blessings like these, Capricorn. It’s that time in your astrological cycle when life is supposed to overflow with rewards for the good work you’ve been doing for a long time. I urge you to be vividly confident that you do indeed deserve these rewards, and radiate that faith in all directions.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20—Feb. 18): The Inuit people of Canada’s far-northern territory of Nunavut have a word that describes an old friend who’s acting oddly. In recent years, as global warming has gained momentum, they’ve applied this term,
uggianaqtuq, to their environment. What are the symptoms? The sea ice forms later each winter and thaws earlier in the spring. Robins and biting flies have arrived in places where they’ve never been before. The sky is whiter and hazier, even on clear days. I suspect you’ll experience a version of
uggianaqtuq in the coming days, Aquarius. Something familiar will behave in a way you’ve never experienced. That could be good or bad or a mixture of both. Which way it goes may depend in part on whether you refrain from jumping to conclusions. It may also hinge on your willingness to redefine the meanings of “good” and “bad.”
PISCES (Feb. 19—March 20): Your word of the week is incubation. It refers to the act of a parent animal sitting on eggs to keep them warm as the fetuses inside mature to the point of hatching. In a more metaphorical sense, “incubation” means the process of protecting and nurturing an idea or possibility as it ripens. Dream workers also tout “dream incubation,” in which you describe a problem that you’d like to have addressed by your dreams, and hold it in your mind as you fall asleep. If you do this with a strong intention, your dreams will eventually help you solve the problem. I invite you to apply this meditation on incubation to the work you have ahead of you, Pisces.
HomeworkWhat would it mean for you to “make love to the universe”? Testify at freewill astrology.com.