- “A young man married is a man that’s marred.”
- Shakespeare’s All’s Well That Ends Well [II.iii.301]
Mercury starts to retrograde and Jupiter enters Cancer.
Cancer: Happy Summer Solstice, Happy Birthday Cancer-Moon Children! Are you ready to party? I was thinking, the perfect birthday gift? What really right for you? Extreme Chamber Music. Here, I thought I found something new and totally original. I looked it up and it turns out there’s an organization, a concert series, and fan group, all on the inter-webs. So much for cute, highly original thought. That might be the point, too. As Jupiter enters unto Cancer, bringing a worldly rush of glad tidings and such? As Mercury starts an errant path, in a Retrograde Pattern? This is not the time for invention. This is not the the time to be wholly original. Much as I would like to think I thought that one up all on my own? Not original. Doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy the fruits of the labors, though. Which is what this is all about. Enjoy.
The (mighty) Leo: I was standing in one of the “bogs,” which is a frankly British slang term for “not particularly sanitary bathroom.” I was just in from fishing, long day on boat, and I was weaving a bit with my sea legs, as there was quite some chop on the bay that day. Why I was using the bog, as it was, at least seemed to be, relatively stationary. In one hand I was trying to text a picture of a big fish to a buddy. In the other hand, my business.
I found the term “bog” really accurately describes this one facility. Steamy, with that underlying fecund yet rotting stench from the sea-shore trash and accumulated detritus, and me, one hand on the business at hand, the other texting away, singlehandedly. There was a faint buzzing noise. On the water, there aren’t a lot of insects. In that bog? I could hear, then feel, a single mosquito land and start drilling. My hands were both full. I didn’t dare to try and shake it off, as I was previously occupied. Got a clear image, now? Firm grip in two places, didn’t dare let my attention waiver, and then the mosquito, and no one way to shake that one. There are three items that need your Leo attention. You can only attend to two of them at one time. To try and balance all three? Disastrous consequences. The solution? Stick to the two, most important at the time. I have a mosquito bite, right above my knee, back of my leg. It’s OK, it will go away, if you don’t scratch it.
Virgo: The Summer Solstice is a special time, and I consider it a turning point, of sorts. It marks the half-way point in the astrological year, and it is punctuated with Mercury in Retrograde this year. I’ve written about this type of energy, its symbolism and proper uses of the time. Nothing to fear with Mercury headed into a retrograde pattern, but the secret is to use the energy wisely. Review. Renew. Regurgitate. Nothing new, just old stuff, revisited. That Virgo mind will settle in on one point and try to make it, force it, try to make headway in an area that I suggest it isn’t in your own, enlightened self-interest to attempt. Fine. Try if you like, but my suggestion was not to take on any new projects, not at this moment. Finish what you’ve already got started. This astrological half-way point in the year? Review what’s been left hanging and finishing that, first.
Libra: Stop. Before we take your Libra self any further, quick, give me a list of three things, no, five things, better yet, seven goals for this weekend. Little Libra list of “I must get this done, NOW.” I started at three, then thought about that one Libra, and I know that the list grows. There is really a function of the influence of Jupiter, just now entering Cancer, but the effect on Libra? Three, no, five, no, seven things. Write them down. Goals. Dreams, aspirations, something. Honey-dews. “I absolutely must get this done, even if Mercury is retrograde!” Not a problem. Lets look at that list, where did we leave it? Seven items? Look: it’s grown to ten items. The more material we heap upon this list, the more impossible it gets. My original plan for the Libra Scope? Get that list, and start working on the top item. Out of three, figure if you get one done, then the day is a success. By the next horoscope, you’ll be successful, like several times. Work on that list.
Scorpio: Hercules, in legend, had to clean out the stables. A task of Herculean proportions. He merely rerouted a river and that got the stables clean. Augean Stables, I think. I’m little rusty on Roman Mythology that was appropriated from the Greeks. Between Saturn and the Sun, and Scorpio, with thin layering of Mercury and Jupiter in Cancer, there’s a hint. I kept thinking about Hercules and his effort to clean the stables. He took a shortcut. He diverted a river, and in the grand scheme, depends on the variation of the myth, but the way I last read it? That shortcut, that diversion of the river to wash out the stables? That didn’t count. As a Scorpio, and with Mercury Retrograde, you’re going to hit on a great idea, a quick solution to a problem. Ultimately, not unlike that one Hercules Myth, you’re shortcut may get disqualified. Suggestions for dealing with this? Grab a shovel. There’s really only one way to clean out the stables. Grab a shovel.
Sagittarius: I never considered writing as a visual art. There was one textbook I loathed, as the typesetting was a typeface that annoyed me. It wasn’t comfortable for me to read, as it was large-serif face with small print and close line-spacing. Leading, really, what it used to be called. There are whole volumes written on typography and type for best visual display, but still, I never really thought about writing as a visual art. There instances where I can describe an image better than I can draw that selfsame image. I can paint with words, but I never thought about writing as a visual medium. I’m not painter. I’m not a visual artist. However, there is a point where there’s a visual component to the art form. As Mercury begins to slide into a retrograde pattern, there’s a previously unrealized fact. Maybe just a factoid, but whatever, a simple and obvious component to Team Sagittarius. Realize that there’s that to consider, too.
Capricorn: “No (wo)man is an island!” Yeah, you lead with that. It won’t work. There’s two pieces to this week’s Capricorn puzzle. How to be alone, and yet, how to be with others. This will be confused, mightily, by Mercury’s path, which, as it turns out, is on the opposite side of the astrological wheel from your good, Capricorn self. There’s a whole slew of events that should be turning out better for you. There’s one, very big delay. I figure, more so than anything else, that delay is what seems to be important. Instead of trying to force an issue, not this week, not this weekend, not next week, instead of forcing the issue, adopt a longer-range view. “We’re working on it,” is one favorite expressions, as is the ubiquitous, “RSN (Real Soon Now).” Yes, we’re getting there, the problem being that you’re moving too fast while the rest of us are caught in a time-warp that prevents us from catching up and seeing (understanding) that you are moving faster. You’re a Capricorn; you’re used to be alone in a crowd.
Aquarius: I’ve long had a fascination with old neon signs. I’ve longed, in various modes, for one, something to adorn the wall here. Not a new sign, but something, a relic, perhaps a sign where not all the letters fire, and in that vein, one of the signs I stumbled upon, it had three letters that glowed, “o p e ” … Used to be part of an old hotel sign, another minor obsession of mine. However, rather than collecting the neon itself, in the past, I’ve just gathered digital images. Easier to store and certainly a lot easier to handle given my transitory lifestyle. Still, I’ve had this obsession with old neon for years. That one sign, I almost asked to buy it, but I couldn’t figure out what it stood for. Three letters, lower case, and there was something that came before it. I’m not sure what the original intent of the sign was, but it was hanging off an old, now derelict place. I’m still not sure what those letters stood for, in the original format. If I could figure out, just what it was, it’s like a neon-gas crossword puzzle. Mercury’s retrograde pattern. There’s something in the message, maybe a “brighter than me” Aquarius can figure it out and explain it?
Pisces: I’ve written about this before, so it’s not totally original, but I was reminded when I ran into a client the other afternoon. She was dressed, as in, she just came from her office. She had on a little yellow polka-dot sun dress and a well-worn pair of knee-high pointy-toe cowboy boots. There was turquoise piping and stitching, some ornate tool work, again with that leather inlay, just enough color to make the boots stand out. I noticed, nodded and made approving noises. “This? I wear boots at the office all the time. You just never see me there. Like this.” As good an explanation as any other. While we roll through the onset of Mercury Retrograde patterns, the sweet and delicate Pisces self will be confronted with a similar pattern, that, “Wow, looks good!” “This old thing? I hardly ever wear it. Thanks for noticing, though.” Roll with it. Seriously, I never knew that was a traditional office attire, but around here? It might just very well be. I looked, maybe sounded a little silly in my ignorance, but then, I was trying to be complimentary. Stick to being nice, even if we don’t get the exact answer we’re looking for.
Aries: There was a series of earthquakes in Texas. Tremors, really, not much more than gentle shake. I’be noted this before, but passing Low-Riders have more shake to their bass than those so-called “Texas Earthquakes.” Still, there was reason to be concerned that oil drilling technology was somehow causing these earthquakes. Then, too, there’s the vast array of secret military material buried throughout the area, and maybe it was sonic rays from that weather-changing station, the vast super-array of Tesla orbs. Who knows? San Antonio’s huge solar array, that too is rumored to be super-secret military thing, disguised as a large solar panel. There’s going to be a gentle shake in Aries, like those South Texas, East Texas earthquakes. It’s as if a giant leviathan is trying to scratch an itch. Not a really big deal, not to me. It’s just the position, time and timbre of this Mercury Retrograde? It’s a gentle awakening. Like I suggested, I’ve heard Low-Riders with more shake than those “Texas Earthquakes.” More bass and more windows rattled.
Taurus: You know that the primary area that Mercury messes with your Taurus head, when this happens, you know what it is? Right? Communications. This one is worse because this is about communications with loved ones. Cohorts, coworkers, wives, husbands, offspring, siblings. In other words? Family, real or otherwise. Family of origin, certainly one pop psychology term, or what many folks these prefer? Family of choice.
Either way, it’s going to present itself as a problem. I’ve warned you that this is where the issue is, now, it’s up to you not to take what appears to be a bad situation, and it is up to the fine Taurus self, not to make this worse, not to make this situation go from bad to worse. You have the power; use it wisely. You have the snippy, smart-ass comeback that will lay a family member, close friend, something, you can lay one out with a single snide comment. Problem being, do that? There’s no going back. I can save you the trouble; why I’m worth the big bucks. Don’t do it. Don’t say it. Don’t make that snappy comeback that might not be the most appropriate.
Gemini: I have this one Gemini client, special girl. As soon as there was a whiff of Mercury Retrograde in the air, suddenly, I got the “Drunk Dialing” thing from her. Only, she wasn’t drinking, middle of the day and all, she did that thing where she buzzed my phone, half-dozen times. More than three counts as either stalking, harassment, or a liquored-up client hitting the speed-dial. In this case, though it was none of those. A Gemini, frightened in one message, mad as hell in the next, then scared again, in the third, and finally, after that, she just hung up when I didn’t answer. Phone was off. I was busy with another client, doing a reading. Not a problem (why I turn the phone ‘off’ some times.) As a Gemini, as everything but Mad Mars leaves your sign, and as Mercury goes backwards, think about how I dealt with that problem. I turned the phone off. You’ll be surprised how that can bring you a moment’s peace, and time to figure out what to do next.