TAURUS (April 20-May 20): "Nothing would be done at all," said Cardinal Newman, "if a man waited until he could do it so well that no one could find fault with it." The truth he articulates is profoundly apt for you right now. It’s important that you try to do what you can’t do very well — that you not use your lack of mastery as an excuse to avoid practicing an immature skill. Be willing to look foolish as you improve, and paradoxically you will often appear brave and inspired.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): Would you please go have a picnic after midnight in a secret garden? Or maybe wander out to the edge of nowhere and throw a birthday party for the sun? Please, Gemini, tear your eyes away from the terribly obvious and the numbingly familiar. Be willing to be as impractical as you’ve ever been. The weird probability is that you’ll have a piercing insight about the bottom line while you’re wandering free in a place that’s far from the bottom line.
CANCER (June 21-July 22): You now have the power to raise a million dollars for charity. For that matter, you could launch an organization that would last 100 years, make an invigorating connection with a resourceful ally or talk a depressed person out of suicide. On the other hand, it’s also conceivable that you could engage in spectacular drunken stunts that earn you a spot on the local TV news. In other words, Cancerian, there’s a high potential for you doing something very big, whether it’s smart and great or dumb and useless. Choose wisely how you want this cosmic tendency to manifest.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): I just received a check in the mail for seven cents. It was from the Screen Actors Guild, a residual payment for my tiny role in the Robin Williams’ movie *Being Human*, in which I played a TV psychic who gives readings for pets. Though the 1994 film was a critical and box office failure, it has continued to earn modest revenue through video sales in Third World countries. I decided not to cash my miniscule check, but rather frame it and put it up on my wall as a conversation piece. I predict a similar event will soon occur in your life, Leo: You’ll receive a "reward" whose value will consist almost entirely of its power to generate joke and story material.
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): It’s a good time to work on your moon tan. I suggest you put on a bathing suit and find a place where the moon can beam down on you. As you bask in its glow, periodically turning over to let it saturate every part of your body, imagine that soaking up the lunar vibes will deepen and tone your emotional life, enhance your receptivity, make you a wiser nurturer and build up your knack for adjusting deftly to change.
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): The leaves on the persimmon tree outside my door are growing so fast I swear I can see them expanding right in front of my eyes. Like them, you are in a period of almost maniacal fertility. The ripening process is so elemental that you may feel as if unpredictable forces of nature have been unleashed inside you. As long as you keep your sense of humor about it, however, nothing too out-of-control will happen. At worst, you’ll resemble a funny monster with a brilliant future, like an awkward kid destined to grow up to be a cute genius.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Have you ever wondered about the X-ray glasses advertised in comic books and sold by mail? They allegedly allow you to see through people’s clothes, maybe even through their skin to the skeleton beneath. You Scorpios now have the next best thing to that cartoon technology. Your eyesight is especially keen — so much so that you’ll notice many things that have previously been hidden from you. You’ll also be especially adept at discerning the real stories unfolding beneath the official stories. It’s almost like you’ll have a psychic version of X-ray specs.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): Hybrid cars get great gas mileage. They also produce minimal noise pollution. In fact, some are so silent that they can be hazardous to pedestrians and bicyclists. While riding my bike today, for instance, I didn’t hear the Toyota Prius that was bearing down on me from behind, and I almost swerved right into its path. Let this serve you as an illustration of the law of unintended consequences. You should watch for unexpected changes caused by the healthy improvements you’ve made in your life. I’m not saying the changes will necessarily be bad, just that you should be alert for results you didn’t foresee.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Cuban tyrant Fidel Castro is so afraid of exotic assassination attempts that he has his aides burn his underwear after just one use. He apparently imagines that some dissident will find a way to saturate his unmentionables with poison during the laundering process. You’re currently in no danger of having your briefs rendered toxic, Capricorn, but I nevertheless suggest that like Castro you incinerate each fresh pair when you’re done wearing them — at least for the next few days. It will be a lyrically symbolic statement that you are ready to transform the way you express your sexual energy, and that will be in perfect alignment with the invitation the cosmos is offering you.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): In high school I got all A’s in science and math, and I’ve studied calculus, used logarithms, and love biology and astronomy. Still, I’m not aligned with the growing chorus of those who want schools to teach more math and science. Less would be better, I think, so as to make more room for truly neglected subjects like cultivating emotional intelligence, questioning authority and interpreting dreams. Since few of us are taught these basic subjects when we’re young, we lag way behind well into adulthood. That’s the bad news, Aquarius. The good news is that it’s a perfect time for you to do some rapid catching up.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): A California company specializing in background checks recently reported that 40 percent of all job résumés contain misinformation. Meanwhile, a study in the *Journal of Basic and Applied Social Psychology* found that most people tell lies every day. You and I aren’t surprised. We know that deception is a normal part of life. I hope, however, that you’ll rebel against that convention in the coming week. It’s the ‘high integrity season" for you — a time to be scrupulously honest and impeccable in your execution of every detail. I urge you to regard this demanding assignment as an opportunity to give gifts everywhere you go. Here’s this week’s homework: Imagine it’s 40 years from today. As you look back on your life, what is the one adventure you regret not trying? Testify at