Taurus (April 20-May 20)
Bulls are famously good confidence-keepers, and for being tight-lipped about stuff like your income or emotions. But you’re lousy at tolerating secrets you’re not in on. Still, won’t you consider the possibility that you’re better off not knowing? Mystery is often preferable to certainty; the former can be alluring and glamorous, the latter dreary. Which is better: a fabulously spooky haunted house, or an old man in a rubber mask wielding ropes and pulleys? Be cooler than the Scooby Gang and allow minor villains their illusions—they’re better than the tedious realities beneath.
Gemini (May 21-June 20)
Despite your brilliance, comparing yourself to the great masters is just depressing. Any of them outclasses you, and their combined work seriously daunts ordinary mortals. So you’ll never be as prolific an inventor as Thomas Edison, or as witty a speaker as Mark Twain or as inspired a sculptor as Camille Claudel. That’s no excuse to slink to your dumpy hometown to see the high school classmates who got stuck there, saddled with pedestrian lives. Yeah, doing so would make you feel momentarily good about yourself, but it would also avoid the lesson you really need to learn: Why compare yourself to anyone, great or pathetic? The only standard that really matters is your own.
Cancer (June 21-July 22)
Once, you opened the floodgates to your core. Someone asked you to. Unfortunately, you were both washed away by the tidal force of all that stored-up passion. You ended up in the tallest tree in town with other flotsam and jetsam, while your suitor was swept out to sea, and never seen again. Since then, you’ve been hard at work on a new emotional infrastructure, one that can help you control the flow so it’s never more than a little overwhelming. Now that it’s almost time to test your new heart-design, consider opening it all the way. The fact that your last wooer was washed away speaks more to their quality than yours. Your new one might settle for nothing less than the full force of your uncensored soul.
Leo (July 23-Aug. 22)
I’m petitioning the universe to infuse your personal talismans with extra powers this week. For instance, if you were a drag queen, your stiletto heels could work overtime as weapons and serving utensils, as well as footwear. Putting your primary tools to new uses is not only astrologically mandated; it could reap unexpected fallout in your life. For instance, using your carpenter’s hammer as a gavel could reveal a heretofore unrealized passion for law, or using your stethoscope to crack a safe might unfold a new career as a spy, or bank robber. Be creative with familiar objects—and be open to the paths they reveal.
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22)
The impracticality of the adage, “Problems should be solved by those who see them,” is obvious: some people, like you observant and diligent Virgos, see more problems than you personally have the power to fix, and you often wear yourselves too thin trying to do it all anyway. Create a saner reality for yourself: amend the motto to read, “Problems should be addressed by those who see them.” In other words, remember that delegation is not a sin. The next time your inner goad nags, “If you don’t, who will?” tell it: “I’ll find someone.”
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22)
You’ve been breathing the rarefied air of your lofty moral mountaintop for so long that coming down to our sinfully decadent lowlands must be overwhelming, even intoxicating, if you’d only admit it, just like getting a couple lungfuls of thick, oxygen-rich sea level air must be invigorating for real alpine dwellers. Stay a while, won’t you? No one expects you to completely abandon the lovely home you’ve made up there in principled territory with the billygoats, but a naughty sojourn amongst us wicked mortals is long overdue. This week, at least, when presented with a choice between the exalted righteousness of the “right thing to do” and the bittersweet flavor of more errant delights, choose the wayward latter option every time.
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21)
I dreamt you were directing the production of a mythic porno, with mighty centaurs screwing in a sunlit glade, Perseus playing show-and-tell with Medusa in the mirror, and the Kraken finally having his way with a gorgeous young virgin on the rocks amid crashing surf. This sexy epic was hardly your life’s work; in fact, it was merely a side project you’d taken on as a lark. But I saw the potential for it to become one of your proudest, most acclaimed achievements. A tiny little venture you’ve been contemplating (or even begun) could sprout into something big. Acknowledge that potential: Give it room enough to do so.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21)
When my Sagittarius friend gashed his hand climbing a chain link fence, he was fascinated by his wounds. “It’s been a long time since I bled,” he remarked dazedly, half-hypnotized by the fresh red liquid dripping down his arm. I think he felt a little lucky to have this reminder to wake up to living inside his skin. Astrological omens indicate that the universe wants all Archers to pay special attention to their bodies for the time being. Humor it. Don’t give kismet a reason to break your arm, or give you another scar, just to deliver a lesson you’re perfectly capable of learning on your own.
Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19)
This week holds your best opportunity all season for swift multiplication of your personal fortune. Naturally, it all depends on what you’re willing to wager in the first place. It would be safer to not bet anything at all and improve your lot the old-fashioned way, through slow and steady hard work. You don’t have much time to deliberate; the roulette wheel is already in motion. Will you take the long odds and put all your money on your best guess? In the last few seconds before you make up your mind, consider this factor: If you win too many times in a row, they kick you out of the casino.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18)
As an exercise, I order you to construct a fort made from overturned chairs, bedsheets, and pillows. Have a water-balloon fight with someone. Play tug-of-war with a dog until he gets tired of it. I mean it. Really do these things. Your most precious childlike impulses are at risk of slipping away, for lack of use. Believe me, losing your ability or desire to play—even temporarily—is no laughing matter, which is part of the problem. Don’t let it happen. Go outside and spin until the only thing you can do is fall down laughing and try not to puke.
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20)
Avoiding the source of your blight is the worst thing you could do. Instead, I prescribe “the hair of the dog,” as they say. There may be other remedies for your particular ailment, but none quite so effective as a nearly homeopathic dose of whatever it was that caused you to suffer in the first place. If you don’t contradict your violently unpleasant reaction now while it’s still in your system, you could be dealing with a terrible, debilitating allergy for years to come. Don’t let that happen. It would be a devastating handicap to always have to avoid a certain flavor or animal or human being forever. Go get a minor dose, and cure yourself, now.
Aries (March 21-April 19)
Some parrots are so long-lived that they often outlive their owners. They can render uncannily perfect imitations of people they encounter frequently. It’s no wonder that their owners possess an exaggerated view of their pet’s intelligence, often contending that their avian buddies can actually use their copied catchphrases appropriately. It’s a cute delusion, but I expect you to be less naïve. Hearing what you want to hear has made you reluctant to question the source. It might be as empty of meaning as your average birdbrain. Don’t take what’s said at face value unless you know where it’s coming from; even then, get it in writing.