Scorpio (Oct. 23–Nov. 21)
To be honest, I'm a bit nervous about this week. With the sun, Mercury, Venus, Mars, and Jupiter all hanging around in your sign, anything could happen, and not necessarily all of it good. In fact, with that much horsepower behind you, it'll be hard not to steer into a wall or telephone pole. What's more, your accident would definitely have dramatic consequences for many people besides yourself. I don't write to make you anxious; I just hope you'll be careful. This isn't a time for recklessness or inattention. Watch your step and stay alert, and even though you're hurtling through this week at top speed, you should be able to avoid colliding with anything.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22–Dec. 21)
Oh ye of the iron stomach, who can swallow poison and shit flowers, what could possibly be making you ill? It's not a bad mushroom or some spoiled milk. It's nothing, in fact, that's gone into your mouth, but rather something that came out of it. A hurtful remark (probably one you made by accident) or an offensive joke, perhaps? Now your guilty conscience, since you're so unused to listening to it, is haunting your belly like a kaleidoscope of butterflies. This isn't a problem that some antacid tablets can solve, at least not for long. The way I see it, you have two choices: Either get used to that sickly feeling in your stomach and learn to live with it, or else take care of it properly. What's the cure? It usually starts with a sincere apology.
Capricorn (Dec. 22–Jan. 19)
When was the last time you let yourself fall apart? Probably not in recent memory. In fact, it might be so long ago that you barely remember it. However, it's good to let yourself go to pieces periodically. Then, when you put yourself back together, you can mix things up a little, change—in ever so subtle ways—your methods and perceptions. However, it's not especially helpful to wait until you're shattered by some tragic event. Perhaps you can arrange (or at least open your mind to the possibility of) something more constructive, like dissolving in helpless, tear-inducing belly laughter. If you can possibly find a way to explode with joy this week (or anytime), please do so.
Aquarius (Jan. 20–Feb. 18)
This week's about abundance. I ask you to contemplate the miraculous way a tiny seed, planted in a patch of dirt and given nothing but sunlight, water, and time, can transform into tremendous bounty. It can work just that way in our emotional lives as well. A minuscule germ of an idea can, with proper nurture, develop into something bigger than everyone involved. Have hope. Your life may not feel very abundant at the moment, but that's only because you forgot to plant (or nurture) enough seeds last spring. Luckily, these kinds of seeds can grow even during the harshest winter. Plant some more this week.
Pisces (Feb. 19–March 20)
The wind's howling outside; harsh weather batters your windows. Most people are relishing the excuse to stay inside and cuddle under warm blankets. But something perverse inside you Fish is compelling you to brave that inclement environment. What's that about? Some latent masochism, perhaps? A desire to test yourself? Or simply curiosity about who else might be found in those inhospitable conditions? I'd heed the urge, if I were you. A Pisces' instincts (especially when they fly in the face of apparent common sense) are rarely wrong. I don't know what you'll find when you venture out to brave the storm this week, but I do know you'll be glad you found it.
Aries (March 21–April 19)
A cup of coffee can inspire, but seven can leave you a shivering, sketchy wreck. It's called moderation, my dear. You must admit this isn't something you're traditionally all that good at. However, it's an awareness you ought to acquire eventually, and why not begin this week? "But," you might protest, "there are even more temptations than usual at the moment!" Exactly my point. How are you supposed to learn to resist overindulgence unless your life is rife with possibilities? My advice is certainly not intended to limit your fun. Quite the opposite. Instead, I ask you to recognize that making conscious choices about it will enable you to have so much more. Don't believe me? Fine. Let your hangovers convince you.
Taurus (April 20–May 20)
Little kids think stuff like broccoli, Brussels sprouts, and beer taste horrible, while many adults learn to love them. Why? There are probably many factors, but surely one is this: Children have more taste buds than adults. We lose them as we get older, especially on the backs of our tongues, where we are best able to detect bitter flavors. Some of us even learn to enjoy superficially unpleasant sensations. We call them acquired tastes. What are yours? This week you can acquire a few more, if you so choose. And, seeing as how liking more things only improves and enhances your life, I can't imagine why you wouldn't.
Gemini (May 21–June 20)
A Gemini friend of mine once sat down and created his "10 rules for life." They were hardly especially original concepts, but concretely articulating his ideas about what makes him happy really helped him to live his life in a way more conducive to joy. What makes you happy? I'm not talking about the instant gratification of acquiring a new iPod. What makes you deeply joyful? How can you produce more of that in your life? This is a good week to figure it out, and this winter is the perfect time to put your ideas into practice.
Cancer (June 21–July 22)
I don't mind if people think I'm a little bit crazy. I like nutty people, generally. Idiosyncrasies make life interesting. Cancers, generally, go to great lengths to hide theirs. I don't really understand that—especially because you're not particularly good at it. We all know you're kooks. That's what we like about you. Would it surprise you to know that most of your friends are secretly wishing you'd just finally come out and claim all your quirks, perhaps even flaunt them? Well, we are. Really owning all the ways you're different is an important step in truly feeling comfortable inside your own skin. And because we love you, how could we not want that for you, you sweet weirdo?
Leo (July 23–Aug. 22)
Although they're not exactly conscious of it (I don't think), bees embody the concept of devoting their lives to something bigger than themselves. When necessary, honeybees give their lives in defense of the hive. This is a concept most Leos have trouble wrapping their heads around. "Something bigger than me?" It's mind-boggling, isn't it? Yet it's what every Leo needs: something to devote all this radiance and power to, besides self-aggrandizement. Have you found that thing? I suspect most of you haven't, even if you think you have. Hint: It's not another person—not a lover or a child. It's bigger even than that. And it's waiting for you.
Virgo (Aug. 23–Sept. 22)
Imagine if someone invented, proved, and described a reliable method for bringing someone back from the dead. Even if their resurrection process resulted only in sluggish, brain-craving zombies, there'd be legions of idiots using it anyway. Formerly dead people would replace rats and pigeons as urban pests. What's my point? Well, I'm just pointing out something you already know: Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should. You may already know this, but so many people just can't grasp the concept. That's where you come in. Wrap their heads around it. Use force if you have to.
Libra (Sept. 23–Oct. 22)
If I don't get my alone time periodically, I get bitchy. I love hanging out with other people, but I must admit I also relish locking the door and enjoying some solitude. When was the last time you sought out some peace and isolation? Not recently enough, I suspect. What do you think happens to your precious balance if you force yourself to constantly respond to other people (each of whom has his or her own bullshit and agenda)? It gets more and more precarious. You need to give yourself time when the only person you're reacting to in any way is yourself. This week, take that time.