ARIES (March 21–April 19): My astrological radar suggests there's a space-time anomaly looming just ahead of you. Is it a fun and exotic limbo where the rules are flexible and everything is an experiment? That might be cool. Or is it more like an alien labyrinth where nothing is as it seems, you can hear howling in the distance, and you barely recognize yourself? That might be weird. What do you think? Is it worth the gamble? If so, full speed ahead. If not, I suggest a course correction.
TAURUS (April 20–May 20): Someone on Reddit asked readers to respond to the question "What is the most liberating thought you've ever had?" Among the replies were the following six: (1) "If new evidence presents itself, it's okay to change my beliefs." (2) "I get to choose who is in my life and who isn't." (3) "I am not my history." (4) "You can't change something that has already happened, so stop worrying about it." (5) "I am not, nor will I ever be, conventionally beautiful." (6) "I don't have to respond to people when they say stupid s--- to me." I hope these testimonies inspire you to come up with several of your own, Taurus. It's a perfect time to formulate liberating intentions.
GEMINI (May 21–June 20): It has been a while since I told you that I love you. So I'm doing it now: I LOVE YOU. More than you could ever imagine. And that's why I continue to offer these horoscopes to you free of charge, with no strings attached. That's why I work so hard to be a playful therapist and an edgy mentor for you. That's why I am so tenacious in my efforts to serve you as a feminist father figure and a kindly devil's advocate and a sacred cheerleader. Again, I don't expect anything from you in return. But if you would like to express your appreciation, you could do so by offering a similar type of well-crafted care to people in your own sphere. Now would be an excellent time to give such gifts.
CANCER (June 21–July 22): "I like the word 'bewilderment' because it has both 'be' and 'wild' in it," says poet Peter Gizzi. I propose that you go even further, Cancerian: Express a fondness for the actual experience of bewilderment as well as the word. In fact, be willing to not just tolerate but actually embrace the fuzzy blessings of bewilderment. In the coming weeks, that's your ticket to being wild in the healthiest (and wealthiest) ways. As you wander innocently through the perplexing mysteries that make themselves available, you'll be inspired to escape formalities and needless rules that have kept you overly tame.
LEO (July 23–Aug 22): Are you familiar with psychologist Carl Jung's concept of the shadow? It's the unflattering or uncomfortable part of you that you would prefer to ignore or suppress. It's the source of behavior about which you later say, "I wasn't acting like myself." Jungians say that the shadow hounds you and wounds you to the degree that you refuse to deal with it. But if you negotiate with it, it leads you to beautiful surprises. It prods you to uncover riches you've hidden from yourself. I mention this, Leo, because any shadow work you do in the coming weeks could generate rather spectacular breakthroughs.
VIRGO (Aug 23–Sept 22): You could make a vow like this: "Between now and April 15, I will be relentless in getting my needs met. I will harbor a steely resolve to call on every ploy necessary to ensure that my deepest requirements are not just gratified but satiated to the max. I will be a dogged and ferocious seeker of absolute fulfillment." If you want to swear an oath like that, Virgo, I understand. But I hope you will try a softer approach—more like the following: "Between now and April 15, I will be imaginative and ingenious in getting my needs met. I will have fun calling on every trick necessary to ensure that my deepest requirements are playfully addressed. I will be a sweet seeker of unpredictable fulfillment."
LIBRA (Sept 23–Oct 22): How would Buddha ask for a raise or promotion? How would Jesus tinker with his career plans as he took into consideration large-scale shifts in the economy? How would Confucius try to infuse new approaches and ideas into the status quo of his work environment? Ruminate deeply on these matters, dear Libra. Your yearning to be more satisfyingly employed may soon be rewarded—especially if you infuse your ambitions with holy insight. How would Joan of Arc break through the glass ceiling? How would Harriet Tubman deal with the inefficiencies caused by excess testosterone? How would Hildegard of Bingen seek more emotional richness on the job?
SCORPIO (Oct 23–Nov 21): I suspect you would benefit from acquiring a new bedroom name, my dear. But should I be the one to give it to you? I'm not sure. Maybe you could invite a practical dreamer you adore to provide you with this crazy sweet new moniker. If there is no such person to do the job (although given the current astrological omens, I bet there is), I'll offer the following array of amorous aliases for you to choose from: Wild Face, Kiss Genius, Thrill Witch, Freaky Nectar, Boink Master, Lust Moxie, Pearly Thunder, Peach Licker, Painkiller, Silky Bliss, Slippery Diver, Swoon Craver.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov 22–Dec 21): Soon I'll be off on my first vacation in 18 months. At first glance it might seem odd for an astrologer like myself to have selected two Sagittarians to be my house-sitters. Members of your sign are reputed to be among the least home-nurturing people in the zodiac. But I'm confident that by the time I return, raccoons won't be living in my kitchen, nor will my plants be dead or my snail mail stolen or my TV broken. The current astrological omens suggest that most of you Centaurs, at least for the foreseeable future, will display an uncommon aptitude for the domestic arts.
CAPRICORN (Dec 22–Jan 19): The near future will be mutable, whimsical, and fluky. It'll be serendipitous, mercurial, and extemporaneous. You should expect happy accidents and lucky breaks. Your ability to improvise will be quite valuable. Do you believe in lucky numbers? Even if you don't, yours will be 333. Your sacred password will be "quirky plucky." The cartoon characters with whom you will have most in common are Bugs Bunny and Road Runner. The place where you're most likely to encounter a crucial teaching is a threshold or thrift shop. Your colors of destiny will be flecked and dappled. (P.S.: I suspect that an as-yet-undiscovered talisman of power is crammed in a drawer full of junk.)
AQUARIUS (Jan 20–Feb 18): Treat your body like a sublime temple, please. And regard your imagination as a treasured sanctuary. Be very choosy about what you allow to enter in to both of those holy places. This strategy is always a wise idea, of course, but it's especially so now, when you are extra sensitive to the influences you absorb. It's crucial that you express maximum discernment as you determine which foods, drinks, drugs, images, sounds, and ideas are likely to foster your maximum well-being—and which aren't. Be a masterful caretaker of your health and sanity.
PISCES (Feb 19–March 20): What would your best mother do in a situation like this? Please note that I'm not asking, "What would your mother do?" I'm not suggesting you call on the counsel of your actual mother. When I use the term "your best mother," I'm referring to the archetype of your perfect mother. Imagine a wise older woman who understands you telepathically, loves you unconditionally, and wants you to live your life according to your own inner necessity, not hers or anyone else's. Visualize her. Call on her. Seek her blessings.
Homework: Find a new person or institution you can eagerly and earnestly respect. Report on your triumph at freewillastrology.com.