Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22)
I dreamt in you transformed into a polar bear who hunted seals with gleeful and effective violence. I took it to mean that you’ve recently grown enough snowy white emotional insulation that you can now brave icy and dangerous situations with impunity. Not only that, but you’ve grown to such massive size and ferocity that you’re now the biggest, baddest thing inhabiting the frigid waters you’ve been swimming in for a couple months now. You have nothing to fear for the moment—except bigger polar bears. Luckily, you can see them from a long way off. So relax, finally—just don’t get cocky, or careless.
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21)
Don’t throw yourself out with the garbage. There’s every likelihood, as you continue the endless cycle of purging your life of all the useless detritus it’s accumulated, that you’ll accidentally mix your keys, wallet, or cellphone with the trash. Be careful of that this week, and also of disposing of some of your useful personal qualities, which could get dumped along with the selfishness, pettiness, or self-destructive levels of efficiency you’re trying to get rid of. Instead of being forced to chase the garbage truck down your street, demanding to rummage through the rubbish in search of you’re your credit cards or your self-respect, simply be careful not to throw them out in the first place.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21)
Strip. It’s probably too cold to be dancing outside in your skivvies, but you should be as naked as possible, as often as healthily possible, in as many ways as possible. In other words, eliminate as many barriers—both physical and emotional—between you and the world as you can. There are times to be cautious and guarded; this isn’t one of them. Everything that hits you this week (whether seemingly good or bad) is like sunshine and rain to a newly-sprouted plant. It’s exactly what you need to grow and blossom. If you shield yourself from it, you’ll only stunt your own long-term potential. Instead, embrace it, and bloom.
Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19)
The bed you’ve made—which you now must lie in—is a curious mixture of comfy and scratchy. This is what you get for hedging your bets. Still, I’m glad you did. Sometimes it’s best to put all your eggs in one basket and just hope it works out, but you were smart enough to realize that, given your odds, you’d be better off not pinning all your hopes on just one thing. So what’s happened is like a storm cloud with both a dark, thunder-filled belly, and a brilliantly golden bright side. Brave the weather as you must, but don’t focus on it. Instead, concentrate on unfolding the silver lining of your situation, until it covers everything. I think you’ll find it stretches much further than you expected.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18)
Be careful not to trip this week, because at least half a dozen conniving conspirators are waiting in the wings to kick you while you’re down. If you manage not to fall, you’ll never see them; they’re like cowardly hyenas who’d never dare to face you at your full strength. Therefore, watch your step, puff out your chest, and roar a lot. If you manage to get through the next ten days without fucking up or being hamstrung, you’ll be home free. The craven scavengers hoping to benefit from your failure will scatter and disappear, in search of easier prey.
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20)
Severe stress makes you want to roll into a ball and hide. Who can blame you? Heed your instincts when they demand you curl up self-protectively. However, instead of cowering, roll intrepidly into the difficult situations you’re dreading. After all, the quandaries you’re shrinking from won’t dissolve on their own. Be a ball. Spheres are resilient, and when you’re in this cautious emotional stance, threats and weapons headed your way will almost certainly be deflected. Roll with anything else that comes your way, make forward progress whenever you can, and the depressing impediments to your happiness will be behind you at least ten times sooner than they would’ve been, otherwise.
Aries (March 21-April 19)
You’re a pancake on a griddle, sizzling in hot oil. It’s a little torturous and smoky right now, but pretty soon you’ll be lathered with the sweet balm of syrup and lovingly devoured, because you’ve become so delicious. Your trial by fire is necessary, and in fact desirable, since at the end of it you’ll be more popular and put-together than you have been for years. Just make sure that the person who’ll get the first taste of the new you is worthy of it, and who’ll add the right flavors to it. None of this margarine and fake syrup bullshit. You deserve real butter and authentic maple goodness, all the way.
Taurus (April 20-May 20)
Imagine the thrill of finding something as valuable and sentimentally rich as a cache of treasure you hid a decade ago. There’s a small likelihood this week that you might uncover a repository of cash and goodies you’d concealed and completely forgotten about. Even more likely, however, is the possibility of digging up heretofore unrecalled wisdom you possessed and discarded ages ago. We’re constantly recycling ourselves, becoming new people. One person’s trash is another’s treasure. You’re a different person than you were. Isn’t it possible that the junk of your past could be the rich bounty of your present?
Gemini (May 21-June 20)
You’re Snow White in the forest. Hold out a finger and a chirping bird will swoop down to land on it. Starving deer will emerge from their wooded hideouts to nibble from your hand. Unfortunately being a multifaceted Gemini is a double-(or quadruple-) edged sword. You’re just as likely to fry up the songbird for dinner or skin the doe as simply enjoy their company. Similarly, the prince(ss) that comes out of the woodwork in answer to your innocent song of longing may glimpse your equally powerful dark side and run screaming. Don’t try to hide your most shadowy urges. Instead, make it your goal to find the royal consort who’d run screaming if you didn’t have that dark side.
Cancer (June 21-July 22)
Make sure you bundle up. Chilly weather doesn’t have to be heinous torture; the difference between misery and contentment is proper insulation. But although the climate’s likely to be pretty brisk this week, that’s not exactly what I’m talking about. Instead you should be donning layers of padding between you and the frosty emotional temperatures gusting across your landscape. They could be bracing, even invigorating, or they could be horrible and damaging, depending on how geared up you are. If you’re not prepared to wear the mental equivalent of seven layers of cotton, wool, and Gore-Tex, you ought to jump on a plane headed for the equator, fast.
Leo (July 23-Aug. 22)
Watch out for the tar pits of your soul. I’m referring to those chasms of seething anger and resentment exposed by the erosive nature of recent events. They’re dangerous. There’s nothing you can do about their existence, but I suggest you skirt them carefully. Given your current mental state, you might recklessly want to toss a shitload of deadweight—both human and emotional—down into those black depths, but refrain. You don’t want anyone or anything precious to fall into them—regardless of how you feel about that person or thing right this second—because once they tumble into that mess, you’ll never be able to pull them out.
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22)
Pretty screwed-up surprises abound this week. You might discover that the girl you’ve been kissing is your long-lost sister, or your worst enemy is your dad in disguise. Very Luke Skywalker, I know, and the exact scenarios you experience probably won’t hit extremes like these. However, examine your most intense relationships this week. I predict that unforeseen (and probably unforeseeable) connections between you and those you love (or hate) could change everything about your interactions for a long time to come. Whether that’s good or bad depends on how rigidly attached you are to the old way you two got along (or didn’t), and how creative you can be when inventing a new framework for your relationship.
To contact Caeriel send mail to sign.language.astrology@gmail.com.
Comments
comments