Aries (March 21–April 19): "Charm is a way of getting the answer 'yes' without having asked any clear question," wrote French author Albert Camus. I have rarely seen you better poised than you are now to embody and capitalize on this definition of "charm," Aries. That's good news, right? Well, mostly. But there are two caveats. First, wield your mojo as responsibly as you can. Infuse your bewitching allure with integrity. Second, be precise about what it is you want to achieve — even if you don't come right out and tell everyone what it is. Resist the temptation to throw your charm around haphazardly.
Taurus (April 20–May 20): I suspect that in the coming days you will have an uncanny power to make at least one of your resurrection fantasies come true. Here are some of the possibilities. 1. If you're brave enough to change your mind and shed some pride, you could retrieve an expired dream from limbo. 2. By stirring up a bit more chutzpah that you usually have at your disposal, you might be able to revive and even restore a forsaken promise. 3. Through an act of grace, it's possible you will reanimate an ideal that was damaged or abandoned.
Gemini (May 21–June 20): To the other eleven signs of the zodiac, the Way of the Gemini sometimes seems rife with paradox and contradiction. Many non-Geminis would feel paralyzed if they had to live in the midst of so much hubbub. But when you are at your best, you thrive in the web of riddles. In fact, your willingness to abide there is often what generates your special magic. Your breakthroughs are made possible by your high tolerance for uncertainty. How many times have I seen a Gemini who has been lost in indecision but then suddenly erupts with a burst of crackling insights? This is the kind of subtle miracle I expect to happen soon.
Cancer (June 21–July 22): In September of 1715, a band of Jacobite rebels gathered for a guerrilla attack on Edinburgh Castle in Scotland. Their plan was to scale the walls with rope ladders, aided by a double agent who was disguised as a castle sentry. But the scheme failed before it began. The rope ladders turned out to be too short to serve their intended purpose. The rebels retreated in disarray. Please make sure you're not like them in the coming weeks, Cancerian. If you want to engage in a strenuous action, an innovative experiment, or a bold stroke, be meticulous in your preparations. Don't scrimp on your props, accouterments, and resources.
Leo (July 23–Aug. 22): If you give children the option of choosing between food that's mushy and food that's crunchy, a majority will choose the crunchy stuff. It's more exciting to their mouths, a more lively texture for their teeth and tongues to play with. This has nothing to do with nutritional value, of course. Soggy oatmeal may foster a kid's well-being better than crispy potato chips. Let's apply this lesson to the way you feed your inner child in the coming weeks. Metaphorically speaking, I suggest you serve that precious part of you the kind of sustenance that's both crunchy and healthy. In other words, make sure that what's wholesome is also fun, and vice versa.
Virgo (Aug. 23–Sept. 22): Your mascot is a famous white oak in Athens, Georgia. It's called the Tree That Owns Itself. According to legend, it belongs to no person or institution, but only to itself. The earth in which it's planted and the land around it are also its sole possession. With this icon as your inspiration, I invite you to enhance and celebrate your sovereignty during the next seven months. What actions will enable you to own yourself more thoroughly? How can you boost your autonomy and become, more than ever before, the boss of you? It's prime time to expedite this effort.
Libra (Sept. 23–Oct. 22): Police in Los Angeles conducted an experiment on a ten-mile span of freeway. Drivers in three unmarked cars raced along as fast as they could while remaining in the same lane. The driver of the fourth car not only moved at top speed, but also changed lanes and jockeyed for position. Can you guess the results? The car that weaved in and out of the traffic flow arrived just slightly ahead of the other three. Apply this lesson to your activities in the coming week, please. There will be virtually no advantage to indulging in frenetic, erratic, breakneck exertion. Be steady and smooth and straightforward.
Scorpio (Oct. 23–Nov. 21): You will generate lucky anomalies and helpful flukes if you use shortcuts, flee from boredom, and work smarter rather than harder. On the other hand, you'll drum up wearisome weirdness and fruitless flukes if you meander all over the place, lose yourself in far-off fantasies, and act as if you have all the time in the world. Be brisk and concise, Scorpio. Avoid loafing and vacillating. Associate with bubbly activators who make you laugh and loosen your iron grip. It's a favorable time to polish off a lot of practical details with a light touch.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): "Like all explorers, we are drawn to discover what's out there without knowing yet if we have the courage to face it." Buddhist teacher Pema Chödrön said that, and now I'm telling you. According to my divinations, a new frontier is calling to you. An unprecedented question has awakened. The urge to leave your familiar circle is increasingly tempting. I don't know if you should surrender to this brewing fascination. I don't know if you will be able to gather the resources you would require to carry out your quest. What do you think? Will you be able to summon the necessary audacity? Maybe the better inquiry is this: Do you vow to use all your soulful ingenuity to summon the necessary audacity?
Capricorn (Dec. 22–Jan. 19): "Once I witnessed a windstorm so severe that two 100-year-old trees were uprooted on the spot," Mary Ruefle wrote in her book Madness, Rack, and Honey. "The next day, walking among the wreckage, I found the friable nests of birds, completely intact and unharmed on the ground." I think that's a paradox you'd be wise to keep in mind, Capricorn. In the coming weeks, what's most delicate and vulnerable about you will have more staying power than what's massive and fixed. Trust your grace and tenderness more than your fierceness and forcefulness. They will make you as smart as you need to be.
Aquarius (Jan. 20–Feb. 18): Aztec king Montezuma II quenched his daily thirst with one specific beverage. He rarely drank anything else. It was ground cocoa beans mixed with chili peppers, water, vanilla, and annatto. Spiced chocolate? You could call it that. The frothy brew was often served to him in golden goblets, each of which he used once and then hurled from his royal balcony into the lake below. He regarded this elixir as an aphrodisiac, and liked to quaff a few flagons before heading off to his harem. I bring this up, Aquarius, because the coming weeks will be one of those exceptional times when you have a poetic license to be almost Montezuma-like. What's your personal equivalent of his primal chocolate, golden goblets, and harem?
Pisces (Feb. 19–March 20): "Unfortunately, I'm pretty lucky," my friend Rico said to me recently. He meant that his relentless good fortune constantly threatens to undermine his ambition. How can he be motivated to try harder and grow smarter and get stronger if life is always showering him with blessings? He almost wishes he could suffer more so that he would have more angst to push against. I hope you won't fall under the spell of that twisted logic in the coming weeks, Pisces. This is a phase of your cycle when you're likely to be the beneficiary of an extra-strong flow of help and serendipity. Please say this affirmation as often as necessary: "Fortunately, I'm pretty lucky."