March 21-April 19: In her poem “Two Skins,” Bahamanian writer Lynn Sweeting writes, “There is a moment in every snake’s life when she wears two skins: one you can see, about to be shed, one you cannot see, the skin under the skin, waiting.” I suspect you now have metaphorical resemblances to a snake on the verge of molting, Aries. Here’s a tip: The snake’s old skin doesn’t always just fall away; she may need to take aggressive action to tear it open and strip it off, like by rubbing her head against a rock. Be ready to perform a comparable task.
April 20-May 20: “Imagine a world 300 years from now,” writes Japanese novelist Minae Mizumura, “a world in which not only the best-educated people but also the brightest minds and the deepest souls express themselves only in English. Imagine the world subjected to the tyranny of a singular ‘Logos.’ What a narrow, pitiful, and horrid world that would be!” Even though I am primarily an English speaker, I agree with her. I don’t want a world purged of diversity. Don’t want a monolithic culture. Don’t want everyone to think and speak the same. I hope you share my passion for multiplicity, Taurus—especially these days. In my astrological opinion, you’ll thrive if you immerse yourself in a celebratory riot of variety. I hope you will seek out influences you’re not usually exposed to.
May 21-June 20: Imagine you’re not a person, but a medley of four magical ingredients. What would they be? A Gemini baker named Jasmine says, “ripe persimmons, green hills after a rain, a sparkling new Viking Black Glass Oven, and a prize-winning show horse.” A Gemini social worker named Amarantha says she would be made of “Florence and the Machine’s song ‘Sky Full of Song,’ a grove of birch trees, a blue cashmere knee-length sweater, and three black cats sleeping in the sun.” A Gemini delivery driver named Altoona says, “freshly harvested cannabis buds, a bird-loving wetlands at twilight, Rebecca Solnit’s book Hope in the Darkness, and the Haleakalā shield volcano in Maui.” And now, Gemini, what about you? Identify your medley of four magical ingredients. The time is right to re-imagine the poetry of YOU.
June 21-July 22: Filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard believes there’s only one way to find a sense of meaning, and that is to fill your life to the bursting point; to be in love with your experience; to celebrate the flow of events wherever it takes you. When you do that, Godard says, you have no need or urge to ask questions like “Why am I here?” or “What is my purpose?” The richness of your story is the ultimate response to every enigma. That’s an intensely vibrant way to live. Personally, I’m not able to sustain it all the time. But I think most of us would benefit from such an approach for brief periods now and then.
July 23-Aug. 22: I asked Leo readers to provide their insights about the topic “How to Be a Leo.” Here are responses that line up with your current astrological omens. 1. People should try to understand you’re only bossing them around for their benefit. —Harlow Hunt. 2. Be alert for the intense shadows you may cast with your intense brightness. Consider the possibility that even if they seem iffy or dicey, they have value and even blessings to offer. —Cannarius Kansen. 3. Never break your own heart. Never apologize for showering yourself with kindness and adoration. —Amy Clear. 4. At the moment of orgasm, scream out your own name. —Bethany Grace
Aug. 23-Sept. 22: It’s your birthright as a Virgo to become a master of capitalizing on difficulties. You have great potential to detect opportunities coalescing in the midst of trouble. You can develop a knack for spotting the order that’s hiding in the chaos. Now is a time when you should wield these skills with artistry, my dear—both for your own benefit and for the betterment of everyone whose lives you touch.
Sept. 23-Oct. 22: One of my heroes died in 2021: the magnificent Libran author bell hooks (who didn’t capitalize her name). She was the most imaginative and independent-minded activist I knew. Till her last day, she articulated one-of-a-kind truths about social justice; she maintained her uncompromising originality. But it wasn’t easy. She wrote, “No insurgent intellectual, no dissenting critical voice in this society escapes the pressure to conform. We are all vulnerable. We can all be had, co-opted, bought. There is no special grace that rescues any of us. There is only a constant struggle.” I bring this to your attention, Libra, because I suspect the coming weeks will require your strenuous efforts to remain true to your high standards and unique vision of reality.
Oct. 23-Nov. 21: You now have the power to make yourself even more beautiful than you already are. You are extraordinarily open to beautifying influences, and there will be an abundance of beautifying influences coming your way. I trust you understand I’m not referring to the kinds of beauty that are worshiped by conventional wisdom. Rather, I mean the elegance, allure, charm, and grace that you behold in old trees and gorgeous architecture and enchanting music and people with soulful idiosyncrasies. PS: The coming weeks will also be a favorable time to redefine the meaning of beauty for yourself.
Nov. 22-Dec. 21: It’s the Season for Expressing Your Love—and for expanding and deepening the ways you express your love. I invite you to speak the following quotes to the right person: 1. “Your head is a living forest full of songbirds.” —E. E. Cummings. 2. “Lovers continuously reach each other’s boundaries.” —Rainer Maria Rilke, 3. “You’re my favorite unfolding story.” — Ann Patchett. 4. “My lifetime listens to yours.” — Muriel Rukeyser.
Dec. 22-Jan. 19: In the coming weeks, make sure you do NOT fit this description articulated by Capricorn novelist Haruki Murakami: “You’re seeking something, but at the same time, you are running away for all you’re worth.” If there is any goal about which you feel conflicted like that, dear Capricorn, now is a good time to clear away your confusion. If you are in some sense undercutting yourself, perhaps unconsciously, now is the time to expose your inner saboteur and seek the necessary healing. July will be Self-Unification Month.
Jan. 20-Feb. 18: A Tweeter named Luxuryblkwomen articulates one of her ongoing goals: “bridging the gap between me and my ideal self, one day at a time.” I’d love it if you would adopt a similar aspiration in the coming months. You’re going to be exceptionally skilled at all types of bridge-building, including the kind that connects you to the hero you’ll be in the future. I mean, you are already a hero in my eyes, but I know you will ultimately become an even more fulfilled and refined version of your best self. Now is a favorable time to do the holy work of forging stronger links to that star-to-be.
Feb. 19-March 20: A blogger named Lissar suggests that the cherry blossom is an apt symbol for you Pisceans. She describes you as “transient, lissome, blooming, lovely, fragile yet memorable and recurring, in tune with nature.” Lissar says you “mystify yet charm,” and that your “presence is a balm, yet awe-inspiring and moving.” Of course, like all of us, you also have your share of less graceful qualities. And that’s not a bad thing! We’re all here to learn the art of growing into our ripe selves. It’s part of the fun of being alive. But I suspect that in the coming weeks, you will be an extra close match for Lissar’s description.