Aries (March 21-April 19): Do you have the guts to retire a symbol that's guided and protected your journey for years, Aries? I believe that's the only way you'll be able to tune in to its more-than-worthy replacement, which will be ready for you in a couple of weeks. Here's some foreplay you can engage in to work up your nerve for the really big move: Curtail your control over someone you've manipulated for a long time; lose your attachment to a form of ego gratification that distracts you from your long-term goals; pay off your oldest karmic IOU.
Taurus (April 20-May 20): Every two years or so, the arousing planet Mars spends a few weeks in your House of Relationships. In 1999, however, it'll be cruising through this sensitive sphere for more than five months. A visitation this long and intense by the god of raw power has not happened since 1984. How you handle such a blast of primal energy is likely to shape the course of your love life for years to come. Will you cooperate with it in such a way that it enriches intimacy, or will you refuse its invitation to raise the romantic stakes and end up with a partnership in disarray? It's up to you. And a big milestone in this process is coming right up.
Gemini (May 21-June 20): Please take your right hand and tickle yourself under the left armpit. Meanwhile, place your left pinkie in your right nostril and lean your right heel on your left knee. Now cross your eyes, caw like a crow three times, and bow in the direction of Hollywood. (Unless you're in Hollywood, in which case bow toward Wall Street.) Got all that? Practice this posture, which is a centerpiece of the esoteric "Silly Yoga" tradition, at least five minutes a day for the next two weeks. It will prevent you from taking yourself too damn seriously as you edge closer to the prize you've been eyeing for eons. The only way you could possibly choke in the clutch, after all, is if you were suffering from an excess of dignity.
Cancer (June 21-July 22): Lately I can't decide whether you remind me more of Capt. Ahab in his mad pursuit of Moby Dick or Sir Galahad in his pure-hearted search for the Grail. Sometimes you seem irrationally obsessed with an unworthy quarry that brings out dark though creative sides of your nature. Other times I see your struggle as a holy quest that's forcing you to access the wild, smart goodness that is your birthright. I suppose it's possible both are true. Maybe that's the point.
Leo (July 23-Aug. 22): In my opinion, if Christ returned right now, he would disassociate himself from most Christians. Buddha would do the same with Buddhists and Mohammed with Muslims. Why? Because the fossilized institutions that the great ones' followers have built bear only a remote resemblance to the essence of their original messages. Let that be a goad and inspiration to you, Leo, as you check back with your own spiritual roots. Are the systems and habits you've built into your daily rhythm an accurate translation of your deepest, purest sources?
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): I hope you appreciate that I travel back in time from the year 2012 in order to be with you. It's hard to be away from the thrilling worldwide mutations unfolding there, but I do have a lot of fun teasing you with hints about how things are going to turn out. This week I wanted to tell you that I've always been impressed with how much you will eventually gain by helping to kindle other people's potential. That's why I don't really worry too much during phases like the current one, when you seem to temporarily forget how healthy it is for you to exercise this talent. (P.S. But please unforget immediately.)
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): According to philosopher Rudolf Steiner, chickenpox is actually good for kids. In fighting off the disease, a child must call on reserves of willpower she did not previously have access to. As her warrior instincts awaken and triumph, she gains a more robust sense of her own potency. I mention this, Libra, because I see a similar development in your own life. An insidious adversary has threatened to undo you, and you are rising up to crush it. As a result, you're acquiring a fresh, hot strength that you will never lose.
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): You've turned a mess of sloppy gunk into useful, beautiful junque. You've built a gleaming monument to eternal youth on the wasteland of childhood. You've made damn sure that erotic justice was served ... and served ... and served. And you've sung your freedom songs so loud and clear that you've chased away almost everyone who would prefer to see you bound up in knots. Not bad for a few weeks of work. What do you do for an encore? Nothing, baby. Lie low and revel in your spoils.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): If the evil advertising geniuses on Madison Avenue can regularly conjure up scores of totally original ways to excite the human animal, surely you can do the same for yourself, Sagittarius -- especially now, when cosmic forces are practically ordering you to start exploring the frontiers of goofy, reeling bliss. Business won't be the only thing that'll mix well with pleasure in the coming weeks. Politics, education, sports, economics, and even spirituality will, too.
Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): One of the perks of being a nationally syndicated columnist is that old friends I've lost touch with can track me down. It's not a foolproof conduit, however. I've never been contacted by Barbara Weil, the smart rebel dancer I had such a crush on in high school. If anyone out there knows where she is, please write me at Box 150247, San Rafael, CA 94915. In return for info leading to her discovery, I'll include, in a future column, the names of any long lost friends you'd like to locate. But even if none of you Capricorns can help me, I'll still pray for all of you to locate misplaced treasures, stolen dreams, and vanished links. This is an ideal time to provide you with such a service, seeing as how you have a sixth sense for hunting down resurrections and revivals.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): If everything goes perfectly, Aquarius, your weirdest problem could suddenly get solved during a magical 90-second interlude this week! For that matter, you might wake up tomorrow able to play a Mozart sonata well enough to get booked into Carnegie Hall. But probably not, probably not. I will say this, however. During that magical 90-second interlude I was hypothesizing about earlier, you could at least go from running against the wind to running with the wind.
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20): Research shows that liberals are twice as likely as conservatives to see a UFO, and right-wingers nine times more likely than lefties to glimpse an angel. I surveyed the socialist libertarian pagans I hang out with and found that none had ever spied an angel or UFO, but several had had intimate contact with a figure they call the Goddess. This suggests that our belief systems skew how we interpret our encounters with the numinous mystery that haunts our planet. I'm not saying the numinous mystery isn't real; in fact, I'm certain it is. But it's so far beyond our ability to perceive what it actually is that each of us turns it into a concept familiar to us personally. All this is preface for my prediction that you are about to have your own brush with the Great Secret.