By Jake Rossen
By Jesse Marx
By Michelle LeBow
By Alleen Brown
By Maggie LaMaack
By CP Staff
By Jesse Marx
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): The largest rubber duck race in history took place last year on Ireland's River Liffey, with 150,000 yellow vinyl contestants vying to cross the finish line first. It was a charity event to raise money for sick children. I mention this, Sagittarius, because if anyone could organize an adventure that would top that extravaganza, it would be you in your current state. You're at the peak of your power to marshal the forces of playfulness in a holy cause.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Last November, Major League Baseball announced that New York Mets' pitcher Guillermo Mota had tested positive for steroids and would therefore be suspended for 50 games at the beginning of the new season. A month later, the Mets signed Mota to a new, two-year $5 million contract, despite knowing that his recent accomplishments on the baseball field had almost certainly been inflated by the steroids' boost. I foresee a comparable scenario unfolding in your life, Capricorn. You'll be rewarded in the wake of a penalty or limitation that was imposed on you, and the gain will outstrip the loss. It may even be the case that the good thing coming your way will be related to or aided by the "bad" thing you did.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): "I'm interested in the boundaries where things change into other things," writes Orene, one of my MySpace friends. Those boundaries should be your primary hang-out in the coming weeks, Aquarius. They are where all the most interesting action will be, as well as the teachings you need most. Would you like some foreshadowing about what things will be changing into other things? Pay close attention to your dreams for clues, and muse on this list: goodbyes that morph into awakenings; banishments that become pilgrimages; adversaries who transform into allies; decay that alchemizes into splendor; and serpent energy that turns into spiritual fire.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): While snorkeling in the ocean off the coast of Hawaii's Big Island, I had a conversation with a dolphin. She gave me clarity concerning a question I've been wondering about. I asked her, "What can Pisceans do to make sure their overflowing emotions don't cause the kind of chaos that undermines their ability to get things done?" I swear the dolphin answered me telepathically, because even though I couldn't understand the hubbub of shrieks and clicks she unleashed in response to my inquiry, my mind was suddenly filled with the following thoughts: Pisceans must love their oceanic emotions unconditionally . . . must see their endless inundation as a privilege and a blessing . . . must learn to surf the endless tidal wave not with a fearful sense of being a victim but with an exhilarated gratitude for the primal power of the adventure.