ARIES (March 21–April 19): I don't usually do this kind of thing, but I'm going to suggest that you monitor the number six. My hypothesis is that six has been trying to grab your attention, perhaps even in askew or inconvenient ways. Its purpose? To nudge you to tune in to beneficial influences that you have been ignoring. I furthermore suspect that six is angling to show you clues about what is both the cause of your unscratchable itch and the cure for that itch. So lighten up and have fun with this absurd mystery, Aries. Without taking it too seriously, allow six to be your weird little teacher. Let it prick your intuition with quirky notions and outlandish speculations. If nothing comes of it, there will be no harm done. If it leads you to helpful discoveries, hallelujah.

TAURUS (April 20–May 20): In English, the rare word "trouvaille" means a lucky find or an unexpected windfall. In French, "trouvaille" can refer to the same thing and even more: something interesting or exceptional that is discovered fortuitously, a fun or enlightening blessing that's generated through the efforts of a vigorous imagination. Of course I can't guarantee that you will experience a trouvaille or two (or even three) in the coming days, Taurus. But the conditions are as ripe as they can be for such a possibility.

GEMINI (May 21–June 20): The Dutch word epibreren means that even though you are goofing off, you are trying to create the impression that you are hard at work. I wouldn't be totally opposed to you indulging in some major epibreren in the coming days. More importantly, the cosmos won't exact any karmic repercussions for it. I suspect, in fact, that the cosmos is secretly conspiring for you to enjoy more slack and spaciousness than usual. You're overdue to recharge your spiritual and emotional batteries, and that will require extra repose and quietude. If you have to engage in a bit of masquerade to get the ease you need, so be it.

CANCER (June 21–July 22): When James Franco began to learn his craft as an actor, he was young and poor. A gig at McDonald's paid for his acting lessons and allowed him to earn a living. He also used his time on the job as an opportunity to build his skills as a performer. While serving customers burgers and fries, he practiced speaking to them in a variety of different accents. Now would be an excellent time for you to adopt a similar strategy, Cancerian. Even if you are not doing what you love to do full-time, you can and should take stronger measures to prepare yourself for that day when you will be doing more of what you love to do.

LEO (July 23–Aug 22): Here are a few of the major companies that got their starts in home garages: Apple, Google, Microsoft, Mattel, Amazon, and Disney. Even if you're not in full support of their business practices, you've got to admit that their humble origins didn't limit their ability to become rich and powerful. As I meditate on the long-term astrological omens, I surmise you are now in a position to launch a project that could follow a similar arc. It would be more modest, of course. I don't foresee you ultimately becoming an international corporation worth billions of dollars. But the success would be bigger than I think you can imagine.

VIRGO (Aug 23–Sept 22): "I have a hypothesis that everyone is born with the same amount of luck," says cartoonist Scott Adams. "But luck doesn't appear to be spread evenly across a person's life. Some people use up all of their luck early in life. Others start out in bad circumstances and finish strong." How would you assess your own distribution of luck, Virgo? According to my projections, you are in a phase when luck is flowing stronger and deeper than usual. And I bet it will intensify in the coming weeks. I suggest you use it wisely—which is to say, with flair and aplomb and generosity.

LIBRA (Sept 23–Oct 22): When my daughter Zoe was 7 years old, she took horseback riding lessons with a group of other young aspirants. On the third lesson, their instructor assigned them the task of carrying an egg in a spoon that they clasped in their mouths as they sat facing backward on a trotting horse. That seemingly improbable task reminds me of what you're working on right now, Libra. Your balancing act isn't quite as demanding, but it is testing you in ways you're not accustomed to. My prognosis: You will master what's required of you faster than the kids at Zoe's horse camp. Every one of them broke at least eight eggs before succeeding. I suspect that three or four attempts will be enough for you.

SCORPIO (Oct 23–Nov 21): Peter the Great was the tsar of Russia from 1682 until 1725. Under his rule, his nation became a major empire. He also led a cultural revolution that brought modern European-style ideas and influences to Russia. But for our purposes right now, I want to call attention to one of his other accomplishments: The All-Joking, All-Drunken Council of Fools and Jesters. It was a club he organized with his allies to ensure there would always be an abundance of parties for him to enjoy. I don't think you need alcohol as an essential part of your own efforts to sustain maximum revelry in the coming weeks, Scorpio. But I do suggest you convene a similar brain trust.

SAGITTARIUS (Nov 22–Dec 21): In Roald Dahl's kids' story James and the Giant Peach, 501 seagulls are needed to carry the giant peach from a spot near the Azores all the way across the Atlantic Ocean to New York City. But physics students at the UK's University of Leicester have determined that such a modest contingent wouldn't be nearly enough to achieve a successful airlift. By their calculations, there'd have to be a minimum of 2,425,907 seagulls involved. I urge you to consider the possibility that you, too, will require more power than you have estimated to accomplish your own magic feat. Certainly not almost 5,000 times more, as in the case of the seagulls. Fifteen percent more should be enough. (P.S. I'm almost positive you can rustle up that extra 15 percent.)

CAPRICORN (Dec 22–Jan 19): So far, 53 toys have been inducted into the Toy Hall of Fame. They include crayons, the jump rope, Mr. Potato Head, the yo-yo, the rubber duckie, and dominoes. My favorite inductee—and the toy that is most symbolically useful to you right now—is the plain old cardboard box. Of all the world's playthings, it is perhaps the one that requires and activates the most imagination. It can become a fort, a spaceship, a washing machine, a cave, a submarine, and many other exotic things. I think you need to be around influences akin to the cardboard box because they are likely to unleash your dormant creativity.

AQUARIUS (Jan 20–Feb 18): I'm not opposed to you fighting a good fight. It's quite possible you would become smarter and stronger by wrangling with a worthy adversary or struggling against a bad influence. The passion you summon to outwit an obstacle could bestow blessings not only on you but on other people, as well. But here's a big caveat: I hope you will not get embroiled in a showdown with an imaginary foe. I pray that you will refrain from a futile combat with a slippery delusion. Choose your battles carefully, Aquarius.

PISCES (Feb 19–March 20): During the next six weeks, I suggest you regard symbiosis as one of your key themes. Be alert for ways you can cultivate more interesting and intense forms of intimacy. Magnetize yourself to the joys of teamwork and collaboration. Which of your skills and talents are most useful to other people? Which are most likely to inspire your allies to offer you their best skills and talents? I suggest you highlight everything about yourself that is most likely to win you love, appreciation, and help. recommended

Homework: Make a playful effort to change something you've always assumed you could never change. Testify at Truthrooster@gmail.com.