ARIES (March 21–April 19): "There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls," said comedian George Carlin. "There are mornings when your dreams are more real and important than your waking life," says my favorite dream worker. "There are times when the doctor isn't feeling well, and only his patient can cure him," says I. Now it so happens, Aries, that in the upcoming week, your life is likely to pass through an alternate reality where all three of the above conditions will prevail—as well as other similar variants and mutations.
TAURUS (April 20–May 20): Hua Chi, a Buddhist monk in China, takes his devotions very seriously. For the last two decades, he has performed as many as 3,000 prayers every single day in the same exact spot at his temple. Part of me admires his profound commitment, while part of me is appalled at his insane addiction to habit. It's great that he loves his spiritual work so deeply, but it's sad that he can't bring more imagination and playfulness to his efforts. I bring this up, Taurus, because I think it's a good time, astrologically speaking, for you to take inventory of the good things you do very regularly. See if you can inject more fun and inventiveness into them.
GEMINI (May 21–June 20): "To the scientist, there is the joy in pursuing truth which nearly counteracts the depressing revelations of truth," said science-fiction writer H. P. Lovecraft. The clear implication of this statement is that there's always a sense of loss that comes with discovering the way things really are. I protest this perspective. I boycott it. As proof that it's at least partially wrong, I offer up the evidence provided by your life in the days ahead. From what I can tell, the gratification that you feel while hunting down the truth will be substantial, and yet it will ultimately seem rather mild compared to the bliss that arrives when you find what you're looking for.
CANCER (June 21–July 22): People listen when Eric Schmidt speaks. He's the CEO of Google, a company that has major power in shaping the future of information. In recent months, he has been riffing on the disappearance of privacy. Because our lives are becoming interwoven with the internet, he believes it will become increasingly hard to keep any secrets. "If you have something that you don't want anyone to know," he says, "maybe you shouldn't be doing it in the first place." This is especially true for you right now, Cancerian. In the coming weeks, I encourage you to maintain the highest standards of ethical behavior. The lucky thing about this situation is that news of the good deeds you do and smart moves you make are also likely to circulate far and wide.
LEO (July 23–Aug 22): Six years ago, a friend of mine came to believe she had died in a previous incarnation by being thrown off a horse. From that time on, she felt stuck. She became convinced that her life energy would remain in a state of suspended animation until she learned to feel comfortable on a horse. Fear kept her from even attempting that for a long time, but recently she got up the courage to begin. Her efforts were bumpy at first, but rapidly improved. As she gained confidence as a rider, every other aspect of her life bloomed, too—just as she'd suspected. I think her experience could be useful for you to learn from in the coming months, Leo. What's your biggest, oldest fear? Is there anything you could do to start dissolving it?
VIRGO (Aug 23–Sept 22): "I'm not confused," said poet Robert Frost. "I'm just well mixed." I would love that to be your motto in the coming weeks. You're entering a phase of your cycle when you should be extra curious about blending ingredients in new combinations. In fact, I'll go so far as to say that the cosmos will respond enthusiastically if you take steps to make yourself the embodiment of lush diversity. Celebrate complexity, Virgo! You will generate unexpected strokes of good fortune by experimenting with medleys and syntheses that appeal to the jaunty parts of your imagination.
LIBRA (Sept 23–Oct 22): In addition to their standard offerings, the yoga teachers at Atlanta's Tough Love Yoga center (www.toughloveyoga.com) sometimes offer exotic variations. During their "Metal Yoga" classes, for instance, the soundtrack for their stretching and breathing exercises is heavy metal music. Here's their promise: "Melt your face off in a very relaxing, healing way." That's the spirit I'd like to see you bring to your life in the coming week: vehemently intense but tenderly curative, wickedly fierce but brilliantly rejuvenating.
SCORPIO (Oct 23–Nov 21): I would love to see you play with your food this week. And draw pictures on walls. And have conversations with winking statues and talking trees and magic toasters. I'll be thrilled, Scorpio, if you watch cartoons about furry animals outwitting maniacal robots and if you entertain fantasies of yourself pushing a cream pie in the face of an obnoxious authority figure. But given how dignified and discreet you tend to be, I realize the chances of any of this actually happening are miniscule. Can I at least coax you into hopping, skipping, and dancing around a lot when no one's watching?
SAGITTARIUS (Nov 22–Dec 21): "Better keep yourself clean and bright," said George Bernard Shaw. "You are the window through which you must see the world." Take that advice to heart, Sagittarius. This is an excellent time for you to do any necessary work to get yourself cleaner and brighter. I'm not at all implying that you're a dusty, greasy mess. But like all of us, there's a continuous buildup of foreign matter that distorts the view and that must be periodically washed away. If you do it now, your work will be extra smart and effective.
CAPRICORN (Dec 22–Jan 19): The state of Wisconsin is famous for its cheese, so it wasn't a big surprise when its state legislature decided to honor the bacterium that's essential in making cheddar, Monterey Jack, and Colby cheese. So as of last year, Lactococcus lactis is the official state microbe. I would love to see you decide upon your own most beloved microbe sometime soon, Capricorn. How about naming Ruminococcus or Peptococcus as your personal favorite among all of your gut flora? It's that time of year when it makes cosmic sense to acknowledge and appreciate all of the small and hard-to-see things that keep you thriving.
AQUARIUS (Jan 20–Feb 18): Don't put your shoes on before you put on your socks this week, okay? Refrain from polishing off a piece of cheesecake and a bowl of ice cream before dinner, and don't say good-bye whenever you arrive at a new destination. Catch my drift, Aquarius? Do things in the proper order, not just while engaged in the fundamental tasks of your daily rhythm, but also in the long-term processes you're carrying out. Each step in the sequence needs to prepare the way for the next step. Keep a clear vision of the organizing principle that informs your work.
PISCES (Feb 19–March 20): Many people know John Mellencamp's song "This Is Our Country" because it was used in a commercial for Chevy Silverado trucks. But if they've only heard it that way, they may be under a mistaken impression about its meaning. The ad quotes just a fraction of the lyrics, including "So let the voice of freedom/Sing out through this land/This is our country." What the ad doesn't include are other lines like "And poverty could be just another ugly thing/And bigotry would be seen only as obscene/And the ones that run this land/Help the poor and common man." Let this serve as a cautionary tale for you, Pisces. Make sure you get the rest of every story—not just the partial truth, but the whole freaking thing.
Homework: What most needs regeneration in your life? And what are you going to do to regenerate it? Testify at www.freewillastrology.com.