Free Will Astrology

ARIES

(Mar. 21-Apr. 19): In the practice of niwaki, Japanese gardeners shape trees so they look both natural and artfully composed. They prune and style the branches to dramatize the tree’s inherent character. Their goal is to collaborate. I recommend you experiment with a similar approach in the coming weeks, Aries. Try partnering with the living processes in your sphere rather than simply imposing your will on them. Ask yourself: What is trying to flourish here? Can I coax out some useful beauty? How can I coordinate my own intelligence with nature’s intelligence? 

TAURUS

(Apr. 20-May 20): Your spirit creatures for the coming weeks are the slow-moving giant tortoises of the Galápagos Islands. They can live for more than a century. They conserve energy, move deliberately, and carry their protection with them. I believe you will benefit from embracing their ways in the coming weeks, Taurus. Refuse to be rushed or pressured, either by others or yourself. Proceed at the precise rate you need to. Your natural strength will thrive through your incremental steadiness. PS: Consider giving yourself a tortoise nickname.

GEMINI

(May 21-June 20): A master perfumer composes a fragrance in three layers. The top notes are what you smell first. They’re vivid and volatile. The next layer blooms gradually, unfurling the heart notes of the fragrance. Underneath everything are the deep, resinous base notes, which don’t fully reveal themselves for hours and cling longest to the skin. Let this be a metaphor to guide your joys and pleasures in the coming weeks, Gemini. Relish the bright top notes that flare and vanish, but persist long enough for the heart to open, and longer still for the deep base notes to emerge. Gather all the rich delights, not just some.

CANCER

(June 21-July 22): It’s hard, scary work for a crab to molt its shell and grow a bigger one. As it waits for its new protection to grow, its soft, tender body is exposed and vulnerable. That’s why it often hides in rock crevices, neither moving nor eating until its armor returns. Your situation, dear Cancerian, isn’t nearly as dire as the poor, defenseless crab’s. But as you power through your own personal molting season, I urge you to enhance your psychic protection. You need to feel extra safe and secure.

LEO

(July 23-Aug. 22): Bats navigate by echolocation. They send out sounds and interpret the echoes. But when competing for food, they may also jam each other’s sonar, generating acoustic interference that makes navigation harder for rivals. A similar phenomenon occurs in human populations. Some of the noisy talk we hear is other people’s jamming signals. Consciously or unconsciously, they’re creating interference that may make it harder for us to navigate. Now is a good time for you to learn better how to distinguish between real information and meaningless hubbub. Refine your filters.

VIRGO

(Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Jan Tschichold (1902-1974) was a brilliant typographer who revolutionized graphic design. He left his mark on millions of books. But later in life, he rejected some of his own rules, returning to classical typography and critiquing his earlier work as too rigid. In this spirit, dear Virgo, I will ask you if some of your long-standing rules no longer serve you. Is it possible that some of your own “best practices” may have calcified into unexamined dogma? The coming months will invite productive heresy against your past selves. You’re allowed to contradict your earlier convictions. Hint: Your vigorous evolution requires it.

LIBRA

(Sept. 23-Oct. 22): In the 18th century, Libran philosopher Denis Diderot was instrumental in creating the Encyclopédie. It wasn’t the first compendium of the world’s knowledge, but it was the most ambitious and comprehensive. In 28 volumes, it assembled contributions from a large number of writers, including leading figures of the French Enlightenment. Robust collaboration was key to its enduring influence. In the coming weeks, Libra, I’m hoping that you, like Diderot, will be an initiator and facilitator of rich cooperation. Conversations, partnerships, and shared projects could generate insights that none of the participants would have discovered alone. By inviting multiple perspectives into the discussion, you will help cultivate a fertile weave of ideas.

SCORPIO

(Oct. 23-Nov. 21): In the volcanic seas around Iceland, underwater eruptions sometimes build entirely new islands that rise from the waves as bare, black rock. During the ensuing years, wind and waves and seabirds seed them with life. Mosses, lichens, hardy plants, and nesting birds slowly transform the raw lava into a living shore. I’m rooting for you to instigate a similar process, Scorpio. My prediction: A development that initially seems stark or unfinished could become fertile ground for growth. Your perceptive instincts will recognize possibilities before they are obvious to others. Be patient with beginnings that look raw.

SAGITTARIUS

(Nov. 22-Dec. 21): I invite you to achieve minor miracles that will enable you to brag at parties about how you created something out of nothing. Not in a loud, egotistical way, but with a sly glimmer in your eye, as if you’re sharing secrets about how reality can be coaxed into generosity if you approach it with imagination and chutzpah. Yes, dear Sagittarius, I’m ecstatic to inform you that now is a favorable moment to turn scraps into usefulness, boredom into invention, and vague hunches into tangible results. Be alert! Be on the lookout! Scout around for raw materials that have been overlooked or dismissed. Half-abandoned projects? Mercurial inclinations? Fugitive fantasies? Seemingly idle conversations that reveal marvelous glints and gleams? These are examples of the “nothings” you can turn into treasures.

CAPRICORN

(Dec. 22-Jan. 19): I’ve got a rough, tough assignment for you: Dare yourself to be startled by your own exquisite beauty. Be bold and even brazen in appreciating what a marvelous creature you are. Can you summon the necessary audacity? I think you can. Please notice the ways you have underestimated your gifts, minimized your impact, or edited out your brilliance to make others comfortable. Allow yourself to feel the tender shock of recognizing that you’re more interesting and mysteriously compelling than you’ve been trained to believe. PS: This will help you call on even deeper inner resources in the coming weeks.

AQUARIUS

(Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Aquarian writer Virginia Woolf was a fount of interesting ideas. Sometimes she pushed her active mind to track them down and capture them, but on other occasions, she enjoyed gathering gems that arrived as her imagination wandered and drifted. These “moments of being” provided her with small treasures while she was walking in nature, taking a bath, or doing nothing in particular. I believe that you are now primed to experience many such pleasurable eruptions of insight. In the coming weeks, pauses and lulls and intermissions will open unexpected portals. 

PISCES

(Feb. 19-Mar. 20): For the low price of $199, I could expertly dispel that annoying curse you’ve been lugging around. But I would feel sleazy taking your cash when you are fully capable of zapping the curse yourself. So, instead, I will recommend that you perform the banishing ritual, then write yourself a check for $199. Here’s how. Step 1: Visualize an object that represents the curse. Imagine hurling it into a beach bonfire and watching it burn. Step 2: Bring to mind a person you believe contributes to the curse. Envision a rope that ties the two of you together, waist to waist. Then imagine yourself revving up a chainsaw, slicing through the binding, and declaring, “You have no power over me!” Step 3: Roll on the floor as you laugh and cry tears of giddy release.

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