By Jesse Marx
By Chris Parker
By Jake Rossen
By Jesse Marx
By Michelle LeBow
By Alleen Brown
By Maggie LaMaack
By CP Staff
ARIES (March 21-April 19): "Surreal hope" means having faith in a future opportunity that at first appears in an out-of-context situation. Say, for example, that you have an unsettling initial exposure to a stranger whom you will eventually realize is an important ally. Maybe when you see this person for the first time, he or she is looking dazed and disheveled on a street corner with tear stains on the cheek, having just broken up with a lover. And maybe you feel a strange attraction to this weirdo despite his or her unflattering appearance. Having surreal hope, in this instance, would mean that you'd refrain from being dismissive and judgmental, but would instead entertain the possibility that your fascination might portend an interesting link under more favorable circumstances at a later date.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): "Idealism increases in direct proportion to one's distance from the problem," wrote English novelist John Galsworthy. In other words, most people find it easier to stick to their noble beliefs and neat theories when they don't have to deal with the messy details of real life. I trust that you will be a stirring exception to this rule in the coming weeks, Taurus. Judging from the astrological omens, I predict that you'll be a master of utopian pragmatism. As you penetrate further and further into the heart of every matter, you'll come up with workable strategies for bringing out the best in people.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): For millions of years, the great rivers of the world have flowed into seas -- or at least they have up until now. Because of their overuse by humans, several ancient rivers are in danger of drying up before they reach their destinations. Among them are China's Yellow River, the Tigris and Euphrates in the Middle East, and America's Rio Grande. I offer this as a cautionary metaphor to consider as you contemplate your long-term future. There are things you can do in the next six weeks to ensure that the river of your life will always connect to a greater source. I suggest you make that a high priority.
CANCER (June 21-July 22): "Quetzalcoatl instructed the Aztecs to offer hyacinths and copal [a resin] to their idols instead of human flesh," wrote Edward Dahlberg in his book *The Sorrows of Priapus.* Alas, the priests didn't heed their god's directive. Their predilection for ripping the hearts out of their sacrificial victims is infamous. Now I'm asking you to attend to a less dramatic but comparable matter, Cancerian. You have a prime opportunity to stop making an extreme sacrifice you've been doing for a long time. The gods no longer demand it of you; it serves no holy purpose; and there's a milder and more useful sacrifice you can make instead.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): The geography of your heart is evolving. In places, coastlines are disappearing. Elsewhere, new islands have risen out of the sea. Boundaries are shifting, as some nations dissolve and others are born. Even the climate is changing, with warm winds blowing where once there was year-round chill, and monsoon-like conditions invading desert ecosystems. Roads that formerly led to the center of the action no longer do, and highways that used to be peripheral are now main routes. I suggest you take note of all this by redrawing your map, Leo. Get up to date with your heart's new landscapes.
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Dwight D. Eisenhower was President of the United States for eight years after serving as Supreme Commander of the Allied forces in Europe during World War II. Early in his career, however, he didn't win many accolades. Referring to his mediocre stint as an undergraduate at the U.S. Military Academy, he said, "If anybody saw signs of greatness in me while at West Point, they kept it to themselves." Keep his story in mind during the coming weeks, Virgo. You may have to summon an extra measure of self-motivation as you keep pushing towards your goal despite a lack of recognition or applause.
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): In their translation of a poem by Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai, Chana Bloch and Stephen Mitchell write, "I'm the chimp of chance, the champ of chance, I'm a chum of chance and a chump of chance." Judging from your astrological omens, Libra, I suspect it'll soon make sense for you to speak those words yourself. Dumb luck and blind fate will be swirling around you, whipping up both unexpected pleasures and knotty challenges. What can you do to be more of a champ and a chum of chance, and not so much of a chimp and a chump of chance? Welcome *everything* that happens, with no exceptions. Love the easy and the difficult, the playful and the contrived, the lucid and the confusing.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): I suggest we title this chapter of your life story "The Perplexing Joy of Hundreds of Emotions," or maybe "The Wild Peace of Way Too Many Feelings." That may be a bit of an exaggeration, but it's an apt reflection of your immediate future: extreme, expansive, melodramatic, spectacularly educational, and filthy rich with intrigue. You may not break the world's record for most mood shifts in a good cause, but you could very well smash your own personal record.