Horoscopes | Week of September 2-8, 2002

ARIES (March 21-April 19): All that energy you possess, which makes you wiggle instead of sitting still or take the five flights of stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, is enviable to those of us who fight the urge to beech ourselves on the couch and eat bonbons indefinitely. Select a lucky partner, friend, lover, colleague or collaborator to seduce into your heightened realm of always-on-the-move action orientation. (It would be sweet if you chose someone who needs the added oomph.) You might be amazed at the revelations that pour from their mouths, once you turn their motor up to a higher revolution speed. These sudden liberated words could go on to have a dramatic impact on you and transform your values, on a subtle but deep level. See what you can unleash?


TAURUS (April 20-May 20): What is the one thing your mom or mother-figure never let you have? Was it Twinkies in your lunch, a BB gun, an electric blanket, a mind of your own? Whatever your unfulfilled childhood longings, you are now old enough to decide for yourself how many sugary treats to ingest or how late to stay out playing with your friends. Have you unnecessarily continued to refuse yourself these forbidden fruits? Or have you overcompensated for juvenile restrictions by gorging yourself uncontrollably until you make yourself sick? Now is prime time to become your own mommy, and balance the kind permissiveness with a smidgeon of loving discipline to teach yourself: Everything in moderation.


GEMINI (May 21-June 20): Week by week, I've begun to notice that these horoscopes I'm writing keep getting longer and longer. I'm a writer by love, and we writers are self-indulgent and throw in extra adverbs like water onto a grease fire, not because they actually help but out of some performance of helping. No matter. They're my words, and I'll use them—or use more of them—if I want. That is, until I secure that coveted gig, writing horoscopes for some printed publication (hint hint), when I'll have all those pesky word limits and column inches to cram my wisdom into. I'd better enjoy the freedom now. And you, Gemini, should also enjoy your momentary lack of communicative restriction, before that dreaded copy editor shows up and snips your favorite monologues in half.


CANCER (June 21-July 22): It's okay to think highly of yourself. "You're number one!" For some inexplicable reason, we indoctrinate our nurturer-figures with the implausible idea that they should focus on selfless devotion to others. As if they would possess anything worth giving, without taking time to fortify themselves with strength and confidence. This week, celebrate how important you are to you by taking good close care of yourself. Maybe it's time to fit that extra 15-minute step into your daily routine—a short walk in the park, a manicure, some light meditation—to remind you that nurturing starts at home, with you first and others after that. You're worth it.


LEO (July 23-August 22): I can't help myself. I have a way with Leos. I give them enough stroking to show them I appreciate their extraordinary talents, but I also lovingly make fun of them to their faces so they know I don't take them too seriously. I point this out because, considering all the unbelievably glowingly positive things I've been saying to you in the past few weeks, you might think I'm just an uncritical Leo admirer, overdazzled by your charms. The fact is, such overwhelmingly good energy is in your court right now, I'm cosmically forced to keep writing you these amazing horoscopes. You rule. So enjoy it, while supplies last.


VIRGO (August 23-September 22): I've borrowed your magic words for the week from Nalungiaq, an Inuit (Eskimo) woman who learned them from her old uncle Unaraluk the shaman: In the very earliest time, when both people and animals lived on earth, a person could become an animal if he wanted to and an animal could become a human being. Sometimes they were people and sometimes animals and there was no difference. All spoke the same language. That was the time when words were like magic. The human mind had mysterious powers. A word spoken by chance might have strange consequences. It would suddenly come alive and what people wanted to happen could happen—all you had to do was say it. Nobody could explain this: That's the way it was.


LIBRA (September 23-October 22): Excuse me, sir/ma'am. Do you have a minute for me? Roving Reporter Astrobarry here, interviewing lucky Librans for my Man/Woman on the Street segment for the 11 O'Clock News. We have three seconds devoted to your answer to the following question, and you have no time to think about. Just say the first thing that comes to your mind, and don't worry about its appropriateness. "What are you going to do with the rest of your life?" Aaah, stop thinking, just speak. And then, after you've let this response pop out from the deepest recesses of your subconscious without censorship, look at what you've discovered. Let yourself rejoice in the knowledge that there is an answer, even if it's not what you expected. And don't be so embarrassed that news-watchers everywhere saw into your soul.


SCORPIO (October 23-November 21): People are impressed. They'd heard countless rumors about how spectacularly you could put together a plan, a project, a presentation. But there was also that prickly side to your personality which put them off, out of fear perhaps that your intimidating tone of voice might make them feel sub-standard. Well, you've won them over somehow, and I'm hoping that means you've actually tamed the scorpionic stinger a bit (rather than merely hypnotizing the masses with some secret control mechanism). If so, now the world can enjoy the fruits of your labor without worrying about getting stung—and you can profit in the process.


SAGITTARIUS (November 22-December 21): In a recent dream, an old acquaintance from high school introduced me to the tenets of her secret New Age cult, in which sacred concealed libraries hold thick personalized volumes of instructions, one for each person who will ever discover this mysterious path. Your special book is there waiting for you and already contains everything you need to know for the rest of your life, like whether or not to share your piece of pie if in a café with Diana Ross. Though "stick figures" (i.e., fools from the uninitiated world) will try to sway initiates from living according to their books, you must hold tight to your beliefs—or else you will fall to the demons, who then devour you and your knowledge. While I think it could be useful, Sag, to develop your own values into a more structured or narrative form like this imagined cult has, I urge you: In your version of the story, do away with the demons.


CAPRICORN (December 22-January 19): A favorite party game at high-school boy-girl parties and on MTV's Spring Break coverage is to have two people, usually a boy and a girl, go into a dark room or a vat of Cool Whip and change clothes. MTV's version, set on the beach, offers a titillating post-switch view of the girl without a top (boobs blurred out by censors) and the guy trying to squeeze his package into a bikini bottom (also often blurred, alas). Your dare this week is to find a willing someone with whom to mingle matter. Whether you choose to interpret this matter-mingling as sexual, psychological, or financial, it doesn't make much difference. Just come away without something you once had and with something new.


AQUARIUS (January 20-February 18): You sit across the small table from that trusted companion, who shall remain nameless to protect your own maniacal sense of discretion. Over Irish breakfast tea and a somewhat stale scone, you spend a good 15 or 20 minutes on a soliloquy detailing what, for a while now, you've known is your unique purpose in serving humanity. Your companion, skilled in basic therapy techniques, replies, "What I hear you saying is…" and then proceeds to repeat back to you what you've just said. Only it sounds way different. Did you really just describe your soul's intention like that? Would you have even ever known, had there not been an actual person sitting across from you speaking, instead of another holographic representation from your mental repertoire reciting scripted lines?


PISCES (February 19-March 20): Repeat after me. ("After me.") "I, devoted Pisces, promise to spend my next two weeks strengthening my physical form. I understand that I cannot accomplish any of my goals without a healthy stable body to actually carry out my work. Therefore, I pledge to [insert favorite exercise type] at least three times a week, sleep [insert your ideal number of] hours a night, and eat [insert favorite healthy foods] regularly for the next two weeks. I will also [choose at least one: pray / meditate / find focus / make magic] everyday. I am my body. I love my body. I love myself." By the next Full Moon, you will feel like a million bucks, and only have yourself to thank.