VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): "I often wonder who I am and where is my country and where do I belong and why was I ever born at all," wrote Virgo author Jean Rhys (1890–1979). I don't think you will be agitated by those questions during the next eight weeks, Virgo. In fact, I suspect you will feel as secure in your identity as you have in a long time. You will enjoy prolonged clarity about your role in the world, the nature of your desires, and how you should plan your life for the next two years. If for some inexplicable reason you're not already enjoying these developments, stop what you're doing and meditate on the probability that I am telling you the bold truth.
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): Several states in the US have statutes prohibiting blasphemy. Saying "God damn it" could theoretically get you fined in Massachusetts, South Carolina, and Wyoming. In the coming days, it's best to proceed carefully in places like those, since you've been authorized by cosmic forces to curse more often and more forcefully than usual. Why? Because you need to summon vivid and intense protests in the face of influences that may be inhibiting and infringing on your soul's style. You have a poetic license to rebel against conventions that oppress you.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Everyone dreams at least three dreams per night. In a year, your subconscious mind generates over 1,100 dreams. About this remarkable fact, novelist Mila Kundera writes, "Dreaming is not merely an act of coded communication. It is also an aesthetic activity, a game that is a value in itself. To dream about things that have not happened is among humanity's deepest needs." I bring this to your attention, Scorpio, because September is Honor Your Dreams Month. To celebrate, I suggest the following experiments. 1. Every night before sleep, write down a question you'd like your dreams to respond to. 2. Keep a notebook by your bed and transcribe at least one dream each time you sleep. 3. In the morning, have fun imagining what the previous night's dreams might be trying to communicate to you. 4. Say prayers of gratitude to your dreams, thanking them for their provocative, entertaining stories.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): In her autobiography Changing, Sagittarian actor Liv Ullmann expresses grief about how she and a loved one failed to communicate essential truths to each other. I propose we regard her as your anti-role model for the rest of 2021. Use her error as your inspiration. Make emotionally intelligent efforts to talk about unsaid things that linger like ghostly puzzles between you and those you care about.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): "I could do with a bit more excess," writes author Joanne Harris. "From now on I'm going to be immoderate—and volatile," she vows. "I shall enjoy loud music and lurid poetry. I shall be rampant." Let me be clear, Capricorn: I'm not urging you to be immoderate, volatile, excessive, and rampant every day for the rest of your long life. But I think you will generate health benefits and good fortune if you experiment with that approach in the coming weeks. Can you think of relatively sane, sensible ways to give yourself this salubrious luxury?
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): While wading through the internet's wilder terrain, I found a provocative quote alleged to have been uttered by the ancient Greek philosopher Socrates. He supposedly said, "My ultimate goal is to look totally hot, but not be unapproachable." I confess that in the past I have sometimes been fooled by fake quotes, and I suspect this is one. Still, it's amusing to entertain the possibility that such an august personage as Socrates, a major influencer of Western culture, might say something so cute and colloquial. Even if he didn't actually say it, I like the idea of blending ancient wisdom with modern insights, seriousness with silliness, thoughtful analysis with good fun. In accordance with astrological omens, I recommend you experiment with comparable hybrids in the coming weeks. (PS: One of your goals should be to look totally hot, but not be unapproachable.)
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): "If you don't know what you want," writes Piscean novelist Chuck Palahniuk, "you end up with a lot you don't." Very true! And right now, it's extra important to keep that in mind. During the coming weeks, you'll be at the peak of your ability to attract what you want and need. Wouldn't you prefer to gather influences you really desire—as opposed to those for which you have mild or zero interest? Define your wants and needs very precisely.
ARIES (March 21-April 19): Aries poet Anna Kamienska wrote, "I've learned to value failed conversations, missed connections, confusions. What remains is what's unsaid, what's underneath. Understanding on another level of being." In the coming weeks, I suggest you adopt her perspective as you evaluate both past and present experiences. You're likely to find small treasures in what you'd assumed were wastelands. You may uncover inspiring clues in plot twists that initially frustrated you. Upon further examination, interludes you dismissed as unimportant or uninteresting could reveal valuable wrinkles.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): After studying your astrological omens, I've decided to offer you inspiration from the ancient Roman poet Catullus. I hope the extravagant spirit of his words will free you to be greedy for the delights of love and affection. Catullus wrote, "Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred; then another thousand, then a second hundred; then yet another thousand." I'll add the following to Catullus's appeal: Seek an abundance of endearing words, sweet favors and gifts, caresses and massages, help with your work, and fabulous orgasms. If there's no one in your life to provide you with such blessings, give them to yourself.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): Gemini author Elif Batuman writes that the Old Uzbek language was rich in expressions about crying. There were "words for wanting to cry and not being able to, for loudly crying like thunder in the clouds, for crying in gasps, for weeping inwardly or secretly, for crying ceaselessly in a high voice, for crying in hiccups, and for crying while uttering the sound 'hay hay.'" I recommend all of these to you in the coming days, as well as others you might dream up. Why? It's prime time to seek the invigorating release and renewal that come from shedding tears generated by deep and mysterious feelings.
CANCER (June 21-July 22): A blogger named MythWoven imagines an "alternate universe where I literally go to school forever (for free) so I can learn about art and literature and history and languages for 100 years. No job skills. No credit requirements. No student loans. Just learning." I have longings like hers. There's an eternal student within me that wants to be endlessly surprised with exciting information about interesting subjects. I would love to be continually adding fresh skills and aptitudes to my repertoire. In the coming weeks, I will give free rein to that part of me. I recommend you do the same, my fellow Cancerian.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): In 2016, the International Garden Photograph of the Year depicted lush lupine flowers in New Zealand. The sea of tall purple, pink, and blue blooms was praised as "an elegant symphony" and "a joy to behold." What the judges didn't mention is that lupine is an invasive species in New Zealand. It forces native plant species out of their habitat, which in turn drives away native animal species, including birds like the wrybill, black stilt, and banded dotterel. Is there a metaphorically comparable phenomenon in your life, Leo? Problematic beauty? Some influence that's both attractive and prickly? A wonderful thing that can also be troublesome? The coming weeks will be a favorable time to try to heal the predicament.
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