(Mar. 21-Apr. 19): Hermann Hesse’s novel Siddhartha is a story about a spiritual seeker who goes in search of illumination. Near the end of the quest, when Siddhartha is purified and enlightened, he tells his friend, “I greatly needed sin, lust, vanity, the striving for goods, and the most shameful despair, to learn how to love the world, to stop comparing the world with any world that I wish for, with any perfection that I think up; I learned to let the world be as it is, and to love it and to belong to it gladly.” While I trust you won’t overdo the sinful stuff in the coming months, Aries, I hope you will reach a conclusion like Siddhartha’s. The astrological omens suggest that 2021 is the best year ever for you to learn how to love your life and the world just as they are.
(Apr. 20-May 20): Taurus physicist Richard Feynman said, “If we want to solve a problem we have never solved before, we must leave the door to the unknown ajar.” That’s always good advice, but it’s especially apropos for you in the coming weeks. You are being given the interesting and fun opportunity to solve a problem you have never solved before! Be sure to leave the door to the unknown ajar. Clues and answers may come from unexpected sources.
(May 21-June 20): When we want to get a distinct look at a faint star, we must avert our eyes away from it just a little. If we look at it directly, it fades into invisibility. (There’s a scientific explanation for this phenomenon, which I won’t go into.) I propose that we make this your metaphor of power for the coming weeks. Proceed on the hypothesis that if you want to get glimpses of what’s in the distance or in the future, don’t gaze at it directly. Use the psychological version of your peripheral vision. And yes, now is a favorable time to seek those glimpses.
(June 21-July 22): If the apocalypse happens and you’re the last human left on earth, don’t worry about getting enough to eat. Just find an intact grocery store and make your new home there. It’s stocked with enough nonperishable food to feed you for 55 years — or 63 years if you’re willing to dine on pet food. I’M JOKING! JUST KIDDING! In fact, the apocalypse won’t happen for another 503 million years. My purpose in imagining such a loopy scenario is to nudge you to dissolve your scarcity thinking. Here’s the ironic fact of the matter for us Cancerians: If we indulge in fearful fantasies about running out of stuff — money, resources, love, or time — we undermine our efforts to have enough of what we need. The time is now right for you to stop worrying and instead take robust action to ensure you’re well-supplied for a long time.
(July 23-Aug. 22): “Judge a moth by the beauty of its candle,” writes Coleman Barks in his rendering of a poem by Rumi. In accordance with astrological omens, I am invoking that thought as a useful metaphor for your life right now. How lovely and noble are the goals you’re pursuing? How exalted and bighearted are the dreams you’re focused on? If you find there are any less-than-beautiful aspects to your motivating symbols and ideals, now is a good time to make adjustments.
(Aug. 23-Sept. 22): I invite you to try the following experiment. Select two situations in your world that really need to be reinvented, and let every other glitch and annoyance just slide for now. Then meditate with tender ferocity on how best to get the transformations done. Summoning intense focus will generate what amounts to magic! P.S.: Maybe the desired reinventions would require other people to alter their behavior. But it’s also possible that your own behavior may need altering.
(Sept. 23-Oct. 22): Author Marguerite Duras wrote these words: “That she had so completely recovered her sanity was a source of sadness to her. One should never be cured of one’s passion.” I am spiritually allergic to that idea. It implies that our deepest passions are unavailable unless we’re insane, or at least disturbed. But in the world I aspire to live in, the opposite is true: Our passions thrive if we’re mentally healthy. We are best able to harness our most inspiring motivations if we’re feeling poised and stable. So I’m here to urge you to reject Duras’s perspective and embrace mine. The time has arrived for you to explore the mysteries of relaxing passion.
(Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Author Karen Barad writes, “The past is never finished. It cannot be wrapped up like a package, or a scrapbook; we never leave it and it never leaves us behind.” I agree. That’s why I can’t understand New Age teachers who advise us to “live in the now.” That’s impossible! We are always embedded in our histories. Everything we do is conditioned by our life story. I acknowledge that there’s value in trying to see the world afresh in each new moment. I’m a hearty advocate of adopting a “beginner’s mind.” But to pretend we can completely shut off or escape the past is delusional and foolish. Thank you for listening to my rant, Scorpio. Now please spend quality time upgrading your love and appreciation for your own past. It’s time to celebrate where you have come from — and meditate on how your history affects who you are now.
(Nov. 22-Dec. 21): Luisah Teish is a writer and priestess in the Yoruban Lucumi tradition. She wrote a book called Jump Up: Seasonal Celebrations from the World’s Deep Traditions. “Jump up” is a Caribbean phrase that refers to festive rituals and parties that feature “joyous music, laughter, food, and dancing.” According to my reading of the astrological omens, you’re due for a phase infused with the “jump up” spirit. As Teish would say, it’s a time for “jumping, jamming, swinging, hopping, and kicking it.” I realize that in order to do this, you will have to work around the very necessary limitations imposed on us all by the pandemic. Do the best you can. Maybe make it a virtual or fantasy jump up. Maybe dance alone in the dark.
(Dec. 22-Jan. 19): “Perhaps we should know better,” wrote poet Tony Hoagland, “but we keep on looking, thinking, and listening, hunting that singular book, theory, perception, or tonality that will unlock and liberate us.” It’s my duty to report, Capricorn, that there will most likely be no such singular magnificence for you in 2021. However, I’m happy to tell you that an accumulation of smaller treasures could ultimately lead to a substantial unlocking and liberation. For that to happen, you must be alert for and appreciate the small treasures, and patiently gather them in. (P.S.: Author Rebecca Solnit says, “We devour heaven in bites too small to be measured.” I say: The small bites of heaven you devour in the coming months will ultimately add up to being dramatically measurable.)
(Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Aquarian author Alice Walker writes, “In nature, nothing is perfect and everything is perfect. Trees can be contorted, bent in weird ways, and they’re still beautiful.” In the coming weeks, I hope you’ll adopt that way of thinking and apply it to every aspect of your perfectly imperfect body and mind and soul. I hope you’ll give the same generous blessing to the rest of the world as well. This attitude is always wise to cultivate, of course, but it will be especially transformative for you in the coming weeks. It’s time to celebrate your gorgeous idiosyncrasies and eccentricities.
(Feb. 19-Mar. 20): “Though the bamboo forest is dense, water flows through it freely.” I offer that Zen saying just in time for you to adopt it as your metaphor of power. No matter how thick and complicated and impassable the terrain might appear to be in the coming weeks, I swear you’ll have a flair for finding a graceful path through it. All you have to do is imitate the consistency and flow of water.
Homework: What’s the important thing you forgot about that you really do need to remember sometime soon? FreeWillAstrology.com