Free Will As­trol­ogy

Po­ten­tize your urge to merge, Virgo, says

The Coast - - FREE WILL ASTROLOGY - ROB BREZSNY

Sagit­tar­ius

(Nov 22-Dec 21)

Sagit­tar­ian poet Rainer Maria Rilke sug­gested that we cul­ti­vate an alert­ness for the ever-present pos­si­bil­ity of ger­mi­na­tion and ges­ta­tion. On a reg­u­lar ba­sis, he ad­vised, we should send probes down into the dark­ness, into our un­con­scious minds, to ex­plore for early signs of awak­en­ing. And when we dis­cover the forces of re­newal stir­ring there in the depths, we should be hum­ble and rev­er­ent to­ward them, un­der­stand­ing that they are as-yet be­yond the reach of our abil­ity to un­der­stand. We shouldn’t seek to ex­plain and de­fine them at first, but sim­ply de­vote our­selves to nur­tur­ing them. Ev­ery­thing I just said is your top as­sign­ment in the com­ing weeks.

Capri­corn

(Dec 22-Jan 19)

You’re in a phase of your cy­cle when your in­flu­ence is at a peak. Peo­ple are more re­cep­tive than usual to your ideas and more likely to want the same things you do. Given these con­di­tions, I think the best in­for­ma­tion I can of­fer you is the fol­low­ing med­i­ta­tion by Capri­corn ac­tivist Martin Luther King Jr. “Power with­out love is reck­less and abu­sive, and love with­out power is sen­ti­men­tal and ane­mic. Power at its best is love im­ple­ment­ing the de­mands of jus­tice, and jus­tice at its best is power cor­rect­ing ev­ery­thing that stands against love.”

Aquar­ius

(Jan 20-Feb 18)

Aquar­ian en­vi­ron­men­tal­ist Ed­ward Abbey spent much of his life ram­bling around in the great out­doors. He was an eman­ci­pated spirit who re­garded the nat­u­ral world as the only church he needed. In an erup­tion of ec­static ap­pre­ci­a­tion, he once tes­ti­fied that “Life is a joy­ous dance through daf­fodils be­neath cerulean blue skies and then, then what? I for­get what hap­pens next.” And yet the truth is, Abbey was more than a wild-hearted Dionysian ex­plorer in the wilder­ness. He found the dis­ci­pline and dili­gence to write 23 books! I men­tion this, Aquar­ius, be­cause now is a per­fect time for you to be like the dis­ci­plined and dili­gent and pro­duc­tive ver­sion of Abbey.

Pisces

(Feb 19-Mar 20)

For renowned Pis­cean vis­ual artist Anne Truitt (1921–2004), cre­at­ing her work was high ad­ven­ture. She tes­ti­fied that artists like her had “to cat­a­pult them­selves wholly, with­out hold­ing back one bit, into a course of ac­tion with­out hav­ing any idea where they will end up. They are like rid­ers who gal­lop into the night, ea­gerly lean­ing on their horse’s neck, peer­ing into a blind­ing rain.” Whether or not you’re an artist, Pisces, I sus­pect your life in the com­ing weeks may feel like the process she de­scribed. And that’s a good thing! A fun thing! En­joy your ride.

Aries

(Mar 21-Apr 19)

You have of­fi­cially ar­rived at the heart of the most ther­a­peu­tic phase of your cy­cle. Con­grat­u­la­tions! It’s an ex­cel­lent time to fix what’s wrong, hurt or dis­torted. You will at­tract more help than you can imag­ine if you sum­mon an ag­gres­sive ap­proach to­ward find­ing an­ti­dotes and cures. A good way to set the tone for your ag­gres­sive de­ter­mi­na­tion to feel bet­ter is to heed this ad­vice from poet Maya An­gelou: “Take a day to heal from the lies you’ve told your­self and the ones that have been told to you.”

Tau­rus

(Apr 20-May 20)

U2’s singer Bono, born un­der the sign of Tau­rus, says that all of us suf­fer from the sense that some­thing’s miss­ing from our lives. We imag­ine that we lack an es­sen­tial qual­ity or ex­pe­ri­ence and its ab­sence makes us feel sad and in­suf­fi­cient. French philoso­pher Blaise Pas­cal re­ferred to this empti­ness as “a God-shaped hole.” Bono adds that “you can never com­pletely fill that hole,” but you may find par­tial fixes through love and sex, cre­ative ex­pres­sion, fam­ily, mean­ing­ful work, par­ent­ing, ac­tivism and spir­i­tual de­vo­tion. I bring this to your at­ten­tion, Tau­rus, be­cause I have a strong sus­pi­cion that in the com­ing weeks you will have more power to fill your God-shaped hole than you’ve had in a long time.

Gem­ini

(May 21-Jun 20)

“Most of our de­sires are cliches, right? Ready-to-wear, one size fits all. I doubt if it’s even pos­si­ble to have an orig­i­nal de­sire any­more.” So says a char­ac­ter in Gem­ini au­thor To­bias Wolff’s short story “San­ity.” Your as­sign­ment in the com­ing weeks, Gem­ini, is to re­fute and rebel against this no­tion. The cos­mic rhythms will work in your favour to the de­gree that you cul­ti­vate in­no­va­tive yearn­ings and unique urges. I hope you’ll make it your goal to have the ex­pe­ri­ences nec­es­sary to stir up an out­break of orig­i­nal de­sires.

Can­cer

(Jun 21-Jul 22)

If you’re a typ­i­cal mem­ber of the Cance­rian tribe, you’re skilled at re­spond­ing con­struc­tively when things go wrong. Your in­tel­li­gence rises up hot and strong when you get sick or re­jected or burned. But if you’re a clas­sic Crab, you have less savvy in deal­ing with tri­umphs. You may sput­ter when faced with splashy joy, smart praise or lucky breaks. But ev­ery­thing I just said is meant to be a chal­lenge, not a curse. One of the best rea­sons to study as­trol­ogy is to be aware of the po­ten­tial short­com­ings of your sign so you can out­wit and over­come them. That’s why I think that even­tu­ally you’ll evolve to the point where you won’t be a bit flus­tered when bless­ings ar­rive. And the im­me­di­ate fu­ture will bring you ex­cel­lent op­por­tu­ni­ties to up­grade your re­sponse to good for­tune.

Leo

(Jul 23-Aug 22)

“Each of us needs some­thing of an is­land in her life,” says poet John Keats. “If not an ac­tual is­land, at least some place or space in time, in which to be her­self, free to cul­ti­vate her dif­fer­ences from oth­ers.” Ac­cord­ing to my read­ing of the astrological omens, Leo, you’ll be wise to spend ex­tra time on your own is­land in the next two weeks. Soli­tude is un­likely to breed un­pleas­ant lone­li­ness, but will in­stead in­spire cre­ative power and evoke in­ner strength. If you don’t have an is­land yet, go in search! (PS: I trans­lated Keats’ pro­nouns into the fem­i­nine gen­der.)

Virgo

(Aug 23-Sep 22)

I’m root­ing for you to en­gage in ex­per­i­men­tal in­ti­macy, Virgo. I hope you’ll have an affin­ity for sweet blends and in­can­des­cent mix­tures and arous­ing jux­ta­po­si­tions. To get in the right mood for this play­ful work, you could read love po­etry and lis­ten to up­lift­ing songs that po­ten­tize your urge to merge. Here are a few lyri­cal pas­sages to get you warmed up. 1. “Your flesh quiv­ers against mine like moon­light on the sea.” —Julio Cortázar 2. “When she smiles like that she is as beau­ti­ful as all my se­crets. —Anne Car­son 3. “My soul is alight with your in­fini­tude of stars…The flow­ers of your gar­den blos­som in my body.” —Rabindranath Tagore 4. “I can only find you by look­ing deeper, that’s how love leads us into the world.” —Anne Michaels

Li­bra

(Sep 23-Oct 22)

Of course I want you to have more money. I’d love for you to buy ex­pe­ri­ences that ex­pand your mind, deepen your emo­tional in­tel­li­gence and fos­ter your abil­ity to cre­ate in­spir­ing forms of to­geth­er­ness. My soul would cel­e­brate if you got ac­cess to new wealth that en­abled you to go in quest of spir­i­tual fun and ed­u­ca­tional ad­ven­tures. On the other hand, I wouldn’t be thrilled about you spend­ing ex­tra cash on triv­ial de­sires or fancy junk you don’t re­ally need. Here’s why I feel this way: To the ex­tent that you seek more money to pur­sue your most right­eous crav­ings, you’re likely to get more money.

Go to freewil­las­trol­ogy.com for Rob Brezsny’s EX­PANDED WEEKLY AU­DIO and DAILY TEXT MES­SAGE HORO­SCOPES. The au­dio horo­scopes

are also avail­able at 877-873-4888.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Canada

© PressReader. All rights reserved.