ARIES (March 21-April 19): The 16th-century English writer John Heywood was a prolific creator of epigrams. I know of at least 20 of his proverbs that are still invoked, including "Haste makes waste," "Out of sight, out of mind," "Look before you leap," "Beggars shouldn't be choosers," "Rome wasn't built in a day" and "Do you want to both eat your cake and have it, too?" I bring this up, Aries, because I suspect you're in a Heywoodian phase of your long-term cycle. In the coming weeks, you're likely to unearth a wealth of pithy insights and guiding principles that will serve you well into the future.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): "If you wish to bake an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe," said astronomer Carl Sagan in his book Cosmos. In other words, the pie can't exist until there's a star orbited by a habitable planet that has spawned intelligent creatures and apples. A lot of preliminaries have to be in place. Keep that in mind, Taurus, as you start out down the long and winding path toward manifesting your own personal equivalent of the iconic apple pie. In a sense, you will have to create an entire world to serve as the womb for your brainchild. To aid you in your intricate quest, make sure to keep a glowing vision of the prize always burning in the sacred temple of your imagination.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): I'll quote Wikipedia: "Dawn should not be confused with sunrise, which is the moment when the leading edge of the sun itself appears above the horizon." In other words, dawn comes before the sun has actually showed itself. It's a ghostly foreshadowing—a pale light appearing out of nowhere to tinge the blackness. Where you are right now, Gemini, is comparable to the last hour before the sunrise. When the pale light first appears, don't mistake it for the sun and take premature action. Wait until you can actually see the golden rim rising.
CANCER (June 21-July 22): When some readers write to me, they address me as "Mr. Brezsny." It reminds me of what happens when a check-out clerk at Whole Foods calls me "sir": I feel as if I've been hit in the face with a cream pie—like someone is bashing my breezy, casual self-image with an unwelcome blast of dignity and decorum. So let's get this straight, people: I am not a mister and I am not a sir. Never was, never will be. Now as for your challenges in the coming week, Cancerian: I expect that you, too, may feel pressure to be overly respectable, uncomfortably formal, excessively polite and in too much control. That would be pushing you in a direction opposite to the one I think you should go.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): At one point in the story "Alice in Wonderland," a large talking bird known as the Dodo organizes a race with unusual rules. There is no single course that all the runners must follow. Rather, everybody scampers around wherever he or she wants, and decides when to begin and when to end. When the "race" is all over, of course, it's impossible to sort out who has performed best, so the Dodo declares everyone to be the winner. I encourage you to organize and participate in activities like that in the coming weeks, Leo. It's an excellent time to drum up playful victories and easy successes not only for yourself, but for everyone else, too.
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): In his book The Rough Guide to Climate Change, Bob Henson talks about the "five places to go before global warming messes them up." One such beautiful spot is Colorado's Rocky Mountain National Park. Vast swatches of its trees are being ravaged by hordes of pine beetles, whose populations used to be kept under control by frigid winters before the climate began to change. Australia's Great Barrier Reef and Switzerland's Alpine glaciers are among the other natural beauties that are rapidly changing form. I suggest that you apply this line of thought to icons with a more personal meaning, Virgo. Nothing stays the same forever, and it's an apt time in your astrological cycle to get all you can out of useful and wonderful resources that are in the midst of transformation.
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): There's not a whole lot of funny stuff reported in the Bible, but one notable case occurred when God told Abraham that he and his wife Sarah would finally be able to conceive their first child. This made Abraham laugh out loud, since he was 99 years old at the time and Sarah was 90. It may have been a while since God has delivered any humorous messages to you, Libra, but my sense is that She's gearing up for such a transmission even as we speak. To receive this cosmic jest in the right spirit, make sure you're not taking yourself too damn seriously.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): No one in history has ever drunk the entire contents of a regulation-size ketchup bottle in less than 39 seconds. So says the Guinness Book of World Records. However, I believe it's possible that a Scorpio daredevil will soon break this record. Right now your tribe has an almost supernaturally enormous power to rapidly extract the essence of anything you set your mind to extracting. You've got the instincts of a vacuum cleaner. You're an expert at tapping into the source and siphoning off exactly what you need. You know how to suck—in the best sense of that word—and you're not shy about sucking.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): "I'm not superstitious," said Michael Scott, the former boss in the TV show "The Office." "I'm just a little stitious." From my perspective, Sagittarius, you shouldn't indulge yourself in being even a little stitious in the coming weeks. You have a prime opportunity to free yourself from the grip of at least some of your irrational fears, unfounded theories and compulsive fetishes. I'm not saying that you suffer from more of these delusions than any of the rest of us. It's just that you now have more power than the rest of us to break away from their spell.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): In Plato's Republic, Socrates speaks derisively about people who are eu a-mousoi, an ancient Greek term that literally means "happily without muses." These are the plodding materialists who have no hunger for inspiration and no need of spiritual intelligence. According to my reading of the astrological omens, Capricorn, you can't afford to be eu a-mousoi in the coming weeks. Mundane satisfactions won't be nearly enough to feed your head and heart. To even wake up and get out of bed each morning, you've got to be on fire with a shimmering dream or a beautiful prospect.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): In his Book of Imaginary Beings, Argentinian writer Jorge Luis Borges reports the following: "Chang Tzu tells us of a persevering man who after three laborious years mastered the art of dragon-slaying. For the rest of his days, he had not a single opportunity to test his skills." I bring this to your attention, Aquarius, because my reading of the astrological omens suggests that you, too, may be in training to fight a beast that does not exist. Luckily, you're also in an excellent position to realize that fact, quit the unnecessary quest and redirect your martial energy into a more worthy endeavor.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): Want to see a rabbit chase a snake up a tree? Go watch this video on YouTube: tinyurl.com/
Homework: Imagine it's 40 years from today. As you look back on your life, what is the one adventure you regret not trying? Testify at freewillastrology.com.