Taurus (April 20-May 20)
Your mantra this week is: It all balances out. Although this may seem like a Libran sentiment, it more correctly applies to you Bulls right now. The whole clichéd business of new doors opening when old doors slam shut is especially true in your case. Your life’s equilibrium is unshakeable right now (unfortunately forbidding dramatic advances as well as setbacks); however, trusting that gives you a peculiar sense of freedom. You don’t have to kill yourself, ineffectually trying to get ahead; nor do you have to cling to the things you’d like to keep. Since later this year you’re in for so much riotous change that even your adaptable head will spin, enjoy this Cruising Zone while it lasts.
Gemini (May 21-June 20)
You’re a fire-breathing dragon. It would behoove you to consider ways to keep your head cool; the psychological equivalent of a helmet packed in ice would be ideal. Letting temperatures get so high that the mercury explodes from the thermometer will lead to messes you’d rather not have to clean up. Still, there’s no need to go glacier-hiking in Antarctica. Your astrologically agitated state is both curse and blessing. Don some asbestos gloves, and take your inner dragon for a walk on a flame-retardant leash. Let him eat some yappy little dogs, corporate thieves or corrupt politicians—just keep him off big buildings and the people you love.
Cancer (June 21-July 22)
Don’t get carried away with your own cleverness. This week, the force of your ideas may carry you along so compellingly that you’ll find yourself on the roof with an innovative, home-designed giant slingshot, preparing to catapult your roommate’s cat into the next county, before you pause to consider whether that’s a smart move. Don’t wait until you see the furry body arcing out of sight before you check yourself. The inspirations that are striking left and right might be brilliant, but taken out of the context of your life their impact is more likely to be negative than not.
Leo (July 23-Aug. 22)
This hasn’t been your most productive season in recent memory, you must admit. If you were a salmon swimming upstream, you’d never make it to the spawning pools. At best you’ve been treading water—certainly not leaping up waterfalls or forging through whitewater rapids. Although being stuck is always frustrating, have hope: this coming week you have a chance to redeem your lack of forward progress in one stroke, like being scooped up in a bucket and airlifted to the river’s source, where you can finally attend to the business you’ve been avoiding all season.
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22)
It’s a messy business, occupying these smelly, sticky, farting bodies. Even if you’re immaculately clean and fresh-smelling, you’re likely to notice, frequently, that others aren’t always so diligent about personal upkeep. Beware of elevators and public transportation if catching the occasional whiff of body odor or a sulfurous emanation from someplace further south mortally offends you. However, I’d rather you transcend such silly hang-ups (once you’ve had a kid or a puppy (thus cleaned up plenty of puke and poop) you realize just how ridiculous they are). Virgos are at their best when they’re in touch with their earthiest sides. Get dirty this week, but don’t just rub your hands in potting soil. Get filthy, sweaty, and gross, sans prissiness. Get into it. You know you want to.
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22)
It may be frustrating to pay for stuff you used to get for free, but indulge yourself this week. Self-sacrifice won’t serve our purposes right now. You need to keep spirits high in order to successfully tackle the task I’m charging you with: Turn the increasingly more prevalent economy of scarcity on its head, please, and reinstate or reinvent one of bounty and generosity. Karmic laws dictate that you must give to receive, and since you have more good juju to spare than anyone else right now, we need you to dole it out—and be patient when it takes a while to come back to you. Give to give, not to get; you’ll get a whopping bonus once you’ve forgotten it’s coming to you.
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21)
Do you have your Scorpio tattoo yet? Apparently, it’s de rigueur for Scorps to get a tiny version of your namesake inked on your pelvises, advertising your Pluto-ruled prowess to anyone with eyes on your crotches. For supposed loners, this is an awful lot of solidarity. Scorps generally have trouble sharing great spans of intimate territory with each other. Still, you could probably stand to develop or deepen a few of your Scorpionic connections this week. After all, there are certain places that only your intrepid tribemates go—having companionship in these slightly scary situations could be interesting. Keep your eyes peeled for the telltale Mark of the Scorpio and when you see it, lower your stinger, approach, and make friends.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21)
The mental feat that’s required of you now is akin to remembering your locker combination from sophomore year of high school. The data is probably stored in your brain somewhere—after all, you used it several times a day for a whole year—but accessing it may seem impossible. What if you knew a million dollars lay within? You’d go to much greater lengths to get to it, right? Perhaps you’d hire a hypnotist to help dredge the forgotten memory from your brain, or invent a robot to tirelessly try all 205,379 combinations until the locker opens, or simply buy a blowtorch and blast your way in. Since the rewards awaiting your successful completion of the task at hand are worth more (to you) than $1,000,000, go the extra mile.
Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19)
A missile isn’t the best way to send a message. First off, it’s overkill. Secondly, although the point is clear, it denies choice to the recipients regarding whether or not to be receptive to it. Since you’re in need of willing allies, not reluctant subjugates, soundly reject all the aggressive strategies being proposed to you on so many fronts. Let your motto be the one about honey being more appealing to flies than vinegar, and plot all the ways you can seduce, entice, and otherwise bribe your adversaries to consider (and possibly adopt) your point of view.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18)
You may feel like you have enough charismatic personal power to rocket to the moon this week, but that would be misleading. You actually have enough shimmering magnetism to fuel a trip much further than that. Set your sights more boldly than you have been, or you’ll be wasting a rare opportunity to see parts of the universe you’d never bothered to imagine before. Use the strongest telescope you can get your hands on, identify the destination of your ambition, and aim exactly that high. Don’t worry about getting back; people who plot their own fall from stardom never make it there in the first place.
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20)
Don’t tell me you’re out of tricks. There are fish that “fly”, and some that can walk on adapted fins to find new water. Some burrow in silt or lurk beneath rocks. Others hide in plain sight, or inflate themselves to inedible proportions, or tear their adversaries to shreds with rows of razor-sharp teeth. You’re just that versatile. You may have to dust off some secret techniques you haven’t used in a long while to handle the twisty tangles ahead, but don’t delude yourself into believing that you can’t handle what’s coming yourself, and masterfully.
Aries (March 21-April 19)
Remember that scene in Star Wars when our heroes fall into the trash compacter? You, too, are being forced to occupy somewhat smaller dimensions, as virtual walls contract around you. Although there’s no actual danger of being crushed, I’m worried that you could form bad habits that outlive your current compression, like slouching. In order to avoid permanent kinks in your ego when you fold it momentarily, try to think of it differently: you’re not being squashed, you’re being condensed; your radiance has gone from lighthouse to blowtorch—fewer people can see it, but those who can will need goggles. Enjoy your concentrated intensity while it lasts, but remember to stretch out when you’re done—we need your long-distance shine next week.
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