Aug. 10-16, 2005

Leo (July 23–Aug. 22)

Instincts aren't always what they're cracked up to be. A startled bird, finding itself indoors, will often instinctively launch itself at a window, battering itself senseless or dead against the glass, which is a substance apparently beyond its comprehension. Although I'm a big fan of trusting your gut, there are times when it's simply not equipped to understand the real situation. It may consequently guide you toward responses that aren't actually in your best interests. This is one of those rare occasions when your animal self will just mess you up. Think things through, and then think them through again. Then act.

Virgo (Aug. 23–Sept. 22)

Get your fingers in the dirt. Virgos are way too goal-oriented, and while crossing things off of lists and racking up millions of minor accomplishments to feel good about aren't bad things, they're just time fillers, ultimately. The best kind of medicine to keep you happy and healthy is, ironically, something you rarely do: get lost in the moment, doing something that doesn't really matter to your long- or short-term goals, like gardening. Be warned: Losing track of time— a frequent experience of yours—is not the same as getting lost in the moment. Spend some time being active (I would never expect you to actually sit still) but not busy. Notice the distinction, then practice it.

Libra (Sept. 23–Oct. 22)

Bad ideas can be so deliciously compelling— erotic, even. There are at least 73 fantastic reasons why you shouldn't act on this one, but I'm guessing you will anyway. Somehow, that pair of feeble (yet somehow undeniable) rationales will outweigh all the solid wisdom generated by that increasingly ostracized part of you that you once called your better judgment. Well, sometimes mistakes like these can be enjoyable and, more importantly, can only be learned the hard way. I suspect this one will grant you a little intense fun (and sadly, a lot of really boring suffering). But you'll be wiser afterward, and that's never a bad thing.

Scorpio (Oct. 23–Nov. 21)

You're sunk ankle-deep in some kind of gripping muck. It's not life-threatening, but you can't move without losing your boots forever, and you haven't been driven quite to that extreme yet. Nevertheless, I hope that you don't choose to stand your ground for too long. You are sinking, despite appearances; it's just imperceptibly slow. In other words, move. Your situation is definitely not getting any better, nor will it. I believe it's already too late to escape this mess without some kind of sacrifice, most likely your expensive footwear. However, if you leave now, keeping your pants is still a possibility.

Sagittarius (Nov. 22–Dec. 21)

One of your specialties is tearing down walls, and that includes—in your most altruistic moments—helping others shatter boundaries that hold them back. However, this isn't always as good as it sounds. For some, freedom is frightening, not liberating. They shrink in the face of it, where they might grow and expand when confronted with an obstacle. Good things can come of challenges and adversity, and our efforts to overcome them. When you encounter other people's walls this week, think twice (at least) before you go ahead and knock them down. It might be easier for you than it is for them; but that, of course, is exactly my point.

Capricorn (Dec. 22–Jan. 19)

Ernest Vincent Wright wrote his fourth novel without using the letter "E." This kind of restriction, in the end, proved too much for the poor fellow; he expired when it got published. But you must respect his resolve in trying to write something good while working within very difficult limits. You, too, need to get used to the shrunken borders of your world. You'll find, once you do settle into this re-envisioned territory, that your proficiency is undiminished. It is, in truth, extended, to the point where nigh on no one even notices. (Those who do will only be impressed.)

Aquarius (Jan. 20–Feb. 18)

Our parents' generation always had this thing about keeping up appearances, not airing dirty laundry in public. Times are different now; if they're important enough, all those metaphorical skidmarks in your underwear get exposed, sooner or later. It's impossible to keep them hidden forever, as you've known all along. So now the only question becomes: Who's going to reveal your messy past mistakes, and in what context? Hint: Most of those who have something to hide or obfuscate (hello, White House) attempt to break breaking stories first, so they have some chance of controlling or steering them.

Pisces (Feb. 19–March 20)

Happy accidents rock; some of your best work has resulted from them. Of course, their very nature precludes generating them. They always occur when you're actually aiming for something else. In other words, stop trying to reproduce your past greatness, "only different." You'll strike gold again, I've no doubt, but only once you take a different tack and stop looking so hard for it. You've got to dramatically change direction—something that's no problem for you, of course—but also to stop expecting things to happen the same way twice, because nothing could, at the moment, be less likely to occur.