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REAL ASTROLOGY For an Unreal World 

Wednesday, Sep 11 1996
Aries (March 21-April 19): I wouldn't exactly compare this week to a smooth cruise in a limousine. Nor can I predict eight lanes of yellow brick road stretching to infinity under a sheltering sky. Nope, Aries, your travels will be far more interesting than that, far more snaky and roundabout. Some of the craggy detours you'll need to negotiate may not even look like paths, let alone streets. Forget the maps, but don't just drive blindly either. Head in the direction that smells the best.

Taurus (April 20-May 20): I recommend that you graze the book Six Months Off, by Hope Dlugozima, James Scott, and David Sharp. It's crammed with advice about how to uncram your life by treating yourself to a strategic break in the action. This is, you see, the perfect astrological moment for you to contemplate giving yourself such a drastic gift. I suppose it's possible that an entire half a year of serious fun might be too much. Maybe even a month's leave of absence is totally impractical any time soon. But at least let the sabbatical fantasy rage and shine in your primeval imagination.

Gemini (May 21-June 20): Does your body ever surprise you by enforcing a decision that contradicts your conscious mind's intentions? Like for instance, maybe you think you want to go out and party, but you fall asleep while you're getting ready. Or you're sure you're hungry, and yet everything in the refrigerator looks unappetizing. Or perhaps you imagine you're in love, only to find that none of the usual sexual signals turn on in the presence of that certain someone. I predict you're about to get a dose of this befuddling disjunction -- unless you immediately make this your mantra: My body never lies.

Cancer (June 21-July 22): Uh-oh. Mercury's retrograde. You know what that means: garbled phone calls, fouled-up travel plans, missed deadlines, embarrassing slips of the tongue. Right? Wrong! How many times do I have to tell you not to turn the sacred art of astrology into just another excuse to be superstitious! Using half-baked horoscopy to justify self-fulfilling prophecies is astrology abuse in the extreme! Oops. Sorry to get so riled up. I'm a little sensitive about this. I truly love astrology's power to enhance our willpower, and it bugs me when it's ignorantly invoked to accomplish the very opposite. In conclusion, Cancer, Mercury retrograde does not presage communication snafus. Rather, it tells you this is a great time to refine the ways you exchange information.

Leo (July 23-Aug. 22): With both Mars and Venus lighting up your sign through the end of the month, you have even more power than usual to entrance and bewitch anyone you aim your charisma at. As your conscience, I have a duty to beg you not to desecrate this privilege. Don't, for instance, use it simply to get people to worship you with slavish devotion. It's OK to entice them to adore you with relaxed tenderness, though -- especially if that moves them to give you some sterling perks, like an offer of a better gig or a fascinating new responsibility.

Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): When I talk about a Portal, I mean a symbolic gateway that marks a potential transition between one phase of your life and another. Just because a Portal is nearby is no guarantee that you'll enter it, or even see it. (I remember how, when I was living in North Carolina, a Portal to a new life in California opened years before I was able to slip through it.) My astrological intuition tells me that you're very close to a Portal right now. Ready or not, I urge you to sidle up to it and at least explore it in detail.

Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): My 5-year-old daughter, Zoe, sincerely believes that Band-Aids possess a curative power. Following a scraped knee or elbow, she unfailingly pleads for their balm. My scientific mind is bemusedly skeptical about it. I know there's no medicine inside the Band-Aid. It couldn't possibly have a literal soothing effect. Yet when I see how quickly it stops Zoe's crying, how instantaneously her pain seems to dissolve, I can't help wondering if there's some magic there I can't fathom. The upshot of the story is this: For the next week, I'd like you to wear a Band-Aid on your chest, directly over your heart. Since nothing else has healed your deepest romantic trauma -- and since it's important that it be assuaged soon -- it's worth a try.

Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Relief is in store for the millions of you who're tormented by the relentless antics of your monkey mind. Due to an imminent religious experience, the little imp is about to shut its trap. For at least 24 hours, and possibly longer, you'll be deliriously free of the usual inanities. God's face will seem to burst through the sky, only to reveal an even more shockingly beautiful visage behind it -- whereupon you'll be invited to weep with lucid joy.

Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): Do you like to watch? If so, this week's message probably isn't for you. Maybe one of those tabloid horoscope columns will have some more useful advice. ("Good time to catch up on gossip. Treat yourself to lots of TV. Drink beer and dream of celebrities.") But if you're one of that 5 percent of the population for whom life is not a spectator sport, I have wonderful news: You now have the clout to transform your tribe or gang in ways it's always been resistant to before.

Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Our language has long had a word meaning "fear of the number 13." It's "triskaidekaphobia." I believe it's high time we coined an opposite term. As of midnight this Friday, Sept. 13, I declare the formal addition to our mother tongue of "triskaidekaphilia," or "affinity for the number 13." In honor of this portentous event -- and in recognition of the fortuitous astrological aspects available to you on Friday the 13th and the surrounding days -- I hereby name you Capricorns "Triskaidekaphiliacs of the Week." And I predict that your abundance of luck will result in you finally translating one of your good intentions (you know, the kind the road to hell is paved with) into a crafty practical action.

Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): As an organic-food aficionado who's allergic to suburbia, I wouldn't normally dine at a hot dog stand in the mall. But that's exactly what I did today. Nor would I ordinarily read books by authors whose viewpoints disgust me, or strike up conversations with blue-haired matrons who're sporting Dole-Kemp buttons. But following the usual routine doesn't make sense right now for anyone who, like me, wants to tap into the Aquarius power-points in their personal charts. Rebellion is our duty, my fellow insurrectionaries -- not so much against the targets we always revolt against anyway, but against all our own customs and comforts.

Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20): Want to know what kind of week it'll be? I'll tell you. It'll be the kind of week where maybe you'll sneeze while chewing bubble gum, launching the pink, gooey stuff onto the sidewalk below you in just such a way that it ensnares the bottom of your shoe, causing you to tumble to your knees, where you'll spy, next to the curb, a $100 bill, which you would have missed had your sneeze not launched this twisty chain of events.

About The Author

Rob Brezsny


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