TAURUS (April 20-May 20): According to tradition, St. Blaise is the patron saint of throats. During his feast day, which is celebrated this week, you’re supposed to bless that part of your body. Even if you’re not Catholic, I highly recommend that you partake in this observance. From an astrological perspective, you Tauruses have a special relationship with the throat. It’s a source of power and grace for you, more so than for any other sign, and you should always jump at any excuse to honor it. Want some suggestions? Get a neck massage. Drink delicious elixirs. Sing songs that make you feel potent. Invite a good kisser to demonstrate his or her skill all over that magic part of your anatomy.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): Somewhere in the world is a tree that has been struck by lightning in such a way that the scorch marks show your initials. This is the week you might find that tree. Somewhere in this world, there is a treasure that has no value to anyone but you, and a secret that is meaningless to everyone except you, and a frontier that possesses a revelation only you know how to exploit. This is the week when you could stumble upon those things. Somewhere in this world, Gemini, there is a person who could ask you the precise question you need to hear in order to catalyze the next phase of your evolution. This is the week when you might run into that person.
CANCER (June 21-July 22): What do you say we liberate you from conventions that drag you down? It’s a perfect moment to break with all the useless, burdensome, energy-sapping aspects of the past. A good place to begin is in the name for your sign: "Cancer" has got to go. There’s no reason why you should tolerate having your astrological title be the same word as the killer disease. In fact, let’s make a formal change. I invite you to send me your proposals for what to replace it with. Dolphin? Fount? Flux? Send your ideas to email@example.com or P.O. Box 150628, San Rafael, CA 94915.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): To God, a galaxy is "no more significant than a bacterium," wrote Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan, and yet "a single human being can be as significant to Him as an entire universe." Is that paradoxical enough for you, Leo? I hope you can find a way to love riddles like that in the coming weeks. You have arrived at a point in your astrological cycle when mysterious conundrums and apparent contradictions — especially the kind that stretch your mind inside-out and upside-down — are the best possible nourishment for your soul.
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Rural communities in southern Louisiana celebrate Mardi Gras with even more anarchistic exuberance than the festivities that take place in New Orleans. Roving gangs of masked revelers stop cars and good-naturedly demand money and gifts from drivers. Clowns with feathered headdresses knock on people’s door after midnight begging for ingredients to make gumbo. Mardi Gras out in the sticks "is a lot like tickling," says professor of folklore, Barry Ancelet. "When you get tickled it makes you laugh, but it also makes you feel uncomfortable." I expect it’ll be that kind of week for you, Virgo.
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): Prenatal psychologists suggest that if a pregnant woman wants her unborn child to be a musician, she should listen to a lot of Mozart. If she hopes her offspring will grow up to be an architect, she should visit beautiful buildings. Since you are in a sense pregnant right now, Libra — germinating a brainchild that will ultimately become a source of joy and responsibility — I suggest you borrow that approach. Immerse yourself in stimuli that will imprint your future masterpiece with the best and brightest influences.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): For the first time in thousands of years, grass is now growing year-round in Antarctica. Winter temperatures have risen nine degrees Fahrenheit in the last thirty years, allowing wild lawns to spread where there were once ice sheets. I see a comparable metamorphosis for you in the coming weeks, Scorpio. A once-barren or frozen landscape in your psyche will show signs of vibrant life. A part of your world that has been inhospitable will welcome you.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): The U.S. government has pledged $350 million in aid for tsunami victims. That may seem like a lot until you realize it spends that much every two days to finance its war in Iraq. But before you unleash enraged howls, ask yourself whether there’s a comparable discrepancy in your personal realm. Is it possible you devote an excessive amount of your psychic energy to combative, ruminations, and not nearly enough to healing thoughts? The moment you can guarantee that you’re generating a hundred times more love than hate, you’ll have clearance to rant unhypocritically about American militarism.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Some of my best meditations unfold as I’m mountain biking in the wilderness. Today, for example, I channeled your horoscope while struggling up a steep patch of craggy mud in the chilly drizzle. In the early part of my ascent, I cursed my stupidity. Why was I forcing myself to endure this ordeal? But soon I lifted my gaze from the ground and noticed how the mist swathed the top of Mt. Tamalpais in the distance. A bird began singing a deliriously cheerful tune. I realized that I wasn’t really that cold, and that the light rain felt sensual, not uncomfortable. I was surrounded by beauty and my body felt invigorated by the exertion. That’s when I thought of you, Capricorn. My situation, I knew intuitively, was a perfect metaphor for your life in the coming week.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): "Never let your sense of morals get in the way of doing what’s right," advised science writer Isaac Asimov. I nominate this to be your motto in the coming week, Aquarius. Adhering too closely to your habitual notions of good and bad could lead you astray in two ways: It could cause you to inflict unnecessary harm, and it could result in you missing out on a one-of-a-kind opportunity. I’m not saying you should be bad, just that you should avoid making generalizations based on past experience.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): Two Americans, Faye Wachs and Eugene Kim, were scuba diving off the coast of Thailand when the tsunami hit on Dec. 26. The water around them behaved oddly but they were unaffected. It was only when they surfaced sometime later that they realized an enormous disaster had unfolded while they were below. I urge you to meditate on their experience during the coming week, Pisces. Is there anything you can you do that would be the metaphorical equivalent of being safely underwater during a tsunami? I don’t mean to imply that you will be in literal danger. What I’m suggesting is that you enter so deeply into the coming changes that you become one with them; that way, they won’t sweep you away. Here’s this week’s homework: Is it possible there’s something you really need but you don’t know what it is? What might it be? Testify at