ARIES
MARCH 21-APRIL 19: At one point in his book The Divine Comedy, the Italian poet Dante is traveling through purgatory on his way to paradise. American poet T.S. Eliot describes the scene: “The people there were inside the flames expurgating their errors and sins. And there was one incident when Dante was talking to an unknown woman in her flame. As she answered Dante’s questions, she had to step out of her flame to talk to him, until at last she was compelled to say to Dante, ‘Would you please hurry up with your questions so I can get on with my burning?’“ I bring this to your attention, Aries, because I love the way you’ve been expurgating your own errors and sins lately. Don’t let anything interfere with your brilliant work. Keep burning until you’re done. (Source: “A New Type of Intellectual: Contemplative Withdrawal and Four Quartets,” by Kenneth P. Kramer.)
TAURUS
APRIL 20-MAY 20: If you’ve been holding yourself back in any way, Taurus, now’s the time to unlock and unleash yourself. If you have been compromising your high standards or selling yourself short, I hope you will give yourself permission to grow bigger and stronger and brighter. If you’ve been hiding your beauty or hedging your bets or rationing your access to the mother lode, you have officially arrived at the perfect moment to stop that nonsense.
LIBRA
SEPT. 23-OCT. 22: Sister Jessica, a character in Frank Herbert’s Dune books, says, “The greatest and most important problems of life cannot be solved. They can only be outgrown.” I encourage you to use that theory as your operative hypothesis for the foreseeable future. Here are some specific clues about how to proceed: Don’t obsess on your crazy-making dilemma. Instead, concentrate on skillfully doing the pleasurable activities that you do best. Be resolutely faithful to your higher mission and feed your lust for life. Slowly but surely, I think you’ll find that the frustrating impediment will be drained of at least some of its power to lock up your energy.
SCORPIO
OCT. 23-NOV. 21: A few years ago, the Hong Kong company Life Enhance sold briefs and boxer shorts that were supposedly designed by a master practitioner of feng shui. On the front of every garment was an image of a dragon, which the Chinese have traditionally regarded as a lucky symbol. To have this powerful charm in contact with your intimate places increased your vital force — or so the sales rap said. By my estimates, Scorpio, you’re not going to need a boost like that in the coming weeks. Without any outside aids whatsoever, your lower furnace will be generating intense beams of magical heat. What are you going to do with all that potent mojo? Please don’t use it on trivial matters.
GEMINI
MAY 21-JUNE 20: In the cult blaxploitation film The Human Tornado, the main character Dolemite brags about his prowess. “I chained down thunder and handcuffed lightning!” he raves. “I used an earthquake to mix my milkshake! I eat an avalanche when I want ice cream! I punched a hurricane and made it a breeze! I swallowed an iceberg and didn’t freeze!” This is the way I want to hear you talk in the coming week, Gemini. Given the current astrological configurations, you have every right to. Furthermore, I think it’ll be healthy for you.
CANCER
JUNE 21-JULY 22: Astrologer Antero Alli theorizes that the placement of the sign Cancer in a person’s chart may indicate what he or she tends to whine about. In his own chart, he says, Cancer rules his ninth house, so he whines about obsolete beliefs and bad education and stale dogmas that cause people to shun firsthand experience as a source of authority. I hereby declare these issues to be supremely honorable reasons for you to whine in the coming week. You also have cosmic permission to complain vociferously about the following: injustices perpetrated by small-minded people; shortsighted thinking that ignores the big picture; and greedy self-interest that disdains the future. On the other hand, you don’t have clearance to whine about crying babies, rude clerks or traffic jams.
LEO
JULY 23-AUG. 22: L.A. Weekly praised the music of drone-noise band Barn Owl. Its review said that the listening experience is “akin to placing your ear against the Dalai Lama’s stomach and catching the sound of his reincarnation juices flowing.” That sounds a bit like what’s ahead for you in the coming week, Leo: getting the lowdown on the inner workings of a benevolent source … tuning in to the rest of the story that lies behind a seemingly simple, happy tale … gathering up revelations about the subterranean currents that are always going on beneath the surface of the good life. It’s ultimately all positive, although a bit complicated.
VIRGO
AUG. 23-SEPT. 22: In the coming days, you could do a lot to develop a better relationship with darkness. And no, I don’t mean that you should do bad things and seek out negativity and be fascinated with evil. When I use that word “darkness,” I’m referring to confusing mysteries and your own unconscious patterns and the secrets you hide from yourself. I mean the difficult memories and the parts of the world that seem inhospitable to you and the sweet dreams that have lost their way. See what you can do to understand this stuff better, Virgo. Open yourself to the redemptive teachings it has for you.
SAGITTARIUS
NOV. 22-DEC. 21: There are times in your life when you do a lot of exploring in the outer world, and other times when your pioneering probes are directed primarily inward. In my astrological opinion, you’re currently more suited for the latter kind of research. If you agree with me, here’s one tack you might want to take: Take an inventory of all your inner voices, noticing both the content of what they say and the tone with which they say it. Some of them may be chatty and others shy; some blaring and others seductive; some nagging and needy and others calm and insightful. Welcome all the voices in your head into the spotlight of your alert attention. Ask them to step forward and reveal their agendas.
CAPRICORN
DEC. 22-JAN. 19: The Oxford English Dictionary, an authority on the state of the English language, adds an average of two new words every day. In the coming weeks, Capricorn, I’d like to see you expand your capacity for self-expression with equal vigor. According to my reading of the astrological omens, you’re due for an upgrade in your vocabulary, your clarity and your communication skills. Here’s one of the OED’s fresh terms, which would be a good addition to your repertoire: “bouncebackability,” the ability to recover from a setback or to rebound from a loss of momentum.
AQUARIUS
JAN. 20-FEB. 18: We turn to Dr. Seuss for help in formulating your horoscope this week. He told a story of dining in a restaurant with his uncle, who was served a popover, which is a puffy muffin that’s hollow on the inside. “To eat these things,” said his uncle, “you must exercise great care. You may swallow down what’s solid, but you must spit out the air!” Drawing a lesson from these wise words, Dr. Seuss concluded, “As you partake of the world’s bill of fare, that’s darned good advice to follow. Do a lot of spitting out the hot air. And be careful what you swallow.” I expect your coming week will be successful, Aquarius, if you apply these principles.
PISCES
FEB. 19-MARCH 20: You should be like a rooster, Pisces: dispensing wake-up calls on a regular basis. You should be nudging people to shed their torpor and shake themselves out of their stupor. What’s your personal version of “Cockadoodle-doo!”? It shouldn’t be something generic like “Open your eyes!” or “Stop making excuses!” Come up with attention-grabbing exclamations or signature phrases that no intelligent person can possibly ignore or feel defensive about. For example: “Let’s leap into the vortex and scramble our trances!”
