Patience, good lady, wizards know their times.
Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night,
The time of night when Troy was set on fire,
The time when screech owls cry and ban-dogs howl,
And spirits walk, and ghosts break up their graves,
That time best fits the work we have in hand.
Madam, sit you and fear not. Whom we raise,
We will make fast within a hallow’d verge.

Roger Bolingbrook in Shakespeare’s Henry VI, part 2 (I.iv.9-16)

Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 6.25.2015

Cancer:

Just like the play’s character, Roger Bolingbroke, I’d recite the self-same lines to any Moon Child person, and wish them a happy birthday. “Wizards know their times,” and as an astrologer, no time could be better for late night assignations of one stripe, or another, for Moon Children. This is a very, very powerful Full Moon approaching. Get ready, get the pieces in the play, get the parts collected, get ready. The biggest problem or obstacle, or issue? It’s Mars and he imparts a certain lack of finesse. There’s a need for an extra dose of caution as Mars heats our loins and heats our tempers, and heats our Cancer emotions, and maybe, just maybe, this isn’t heat that we really needed. Therein is the problem, and the solution While others “lie abed,” are asleep at night, and during the time of the screech owls, it’s best to plot, plan and otherwise move that birthday agenda forward. Very powerful Full Moon approaching. Use it. Use it wisely.

The (mighty) Leo:

Regrettably, I’m not Leo, or Leo-like enough to make this message any easier to digest but there’s a simple cue this week. It’s not like I don’t like Leo, we all know I revere and worship the mightiest of the Fixed Fire Signs as an embodiment of the “Best of the best,” am I right?

Shut up.

Suit up, and shut up.

Listen. The tricky energy, this week? Shut up. “No, you shut up!” I will. But I’m not a majestic Leo. If you’ll be quiet, if you’ll meditate, if you’ll listen instead of talk? Be quiet and let others do the talking? You can learn a great deal, and you can arm yourself to move forward with alacrity and swiftness of thought, but the trick?

Shut up.

Suit up and then shut up.

That simple, honey, not really a big deal. There’s a moment of clarity, there’s a pause, there’s a quiet time, and let the other non-Leo person speak. The essence of the message, if I’m unclear? Pause. Stifle the mouth. Don’t work the gorgeous Leo jaw. Give that person, or persons, enough time to make a mistake, give away a secret or otherwise reveal their message. In order for this to happen?

Suit up, Leo dear, then shut up.

Virgo:

While I travel much less than before, I still get around some on commercial air. At the airports I frequent the most, there’s a big military presence in those towns. It’s not uncommon for me to board a flight with a half-dozen military personnel onboard, in uniform. I’m okay with that. I have nothing but respect for the men (and women) who wear the uniforms.

Getting on one flight, there was a female form that garnered much attention, purely from her obvious attractive characteristics. Curves, judiciously displayed. What was amusing, to me, she had on what looked like “military” attire, camo, fatigues, tight across her backside, revealing shapes and probably, the attire wasn’t originally military-issue. Just a guess.

She did look ready for action, albeit, probably not real duty. Compare the super-model, dressed “military” with actual military personnel, and it’s weird, to me, to see them both, in the same place. Same airport, same departure lounge. Not sure how that works out. As a Virgo, this is a time to consider outward appearances, and maybe, adjust what your Virgo Super-Model self is going to wear, especially if there is a conflict of interests, or someone else might have on similar outfit.

“Don’t you just hate it when you show up and every has on the same outfit?”

Libra:

As a singular experience that I would only expect to happen in South Texas, in my neighborhood, to be precise, this did happen. I was going to a zen center for meditation. Great practice, brings calm in a maddening world and speaks to some of my spiritual leanings. The first time I ever attended a group meditation, a “sit,” at that one place? Beforehand? Good, greasy hamburger, as in dead cow parts, ground up and squeezed into a patty, then fried unto death on a hot griddle.

The real Zen is usually, like, vegetarian if not vegan. I’m not in this for the religion aspect, more like the meditation stuff. Calm mind, calm life, so that first time? I’ve been practicing a variation of buddhism for years, so I’m familiar with the process. Showing up with a belly full of dead cow? Not the best foot forward, or, in this example, not the best Buddha Belly forward. Stomach grumbled and gurgled throughout the hour-long sitting. I was comfortable, but I’m not sure the girl next to me was. Can’t be bothered, not now.

In Libra land, there’s a point where you want to think some particular course of action, think about where you’re going, before you saddle up for the trip.

Scorpio:

The origin of the orange cap, the orange pour-spot for “decaf?” Samoan Sans (caffeine) is the originator of that indication. Where it all started. Any number of diner, and diner-like places I’ve been, over the years? Ask for a “decaf,” and usually that means the coffee comes out of an orange-handled, orange-rimmed coffee pot. In the stores, orange is the default indication that “This coffee has no useful ingredients.” (Decaf.) Orange labels, and one chain of restaurants uses an orange coaster to indicate “decaf.”

The historical antecedents to DECAF? As Mars bumps into Cancer? Compatible signs, you know, water and all? There are some other little bumps in the night and for Scorpio, nothing made me think of calm, more than a Scorpio drinking decaf this next couple of days. Try the orange stuff, decaf, it’s better, and you’ll be less likely to jump out of your skin when there’s a loud nose.

This means, in the next few days, lay off the hard stuff, whatever that means to you, and whatever it is that makes your Scorpio self jumpy. Orange. Think: decaf.

Sagittarius:

Way I was looking at this, at first, it was all about getting a start. Then I got to where I was avoiding work, like, you know, had to straighten up the computer wires, then the desk had to be dusted, and this is a kind of Sagittarius dissembling, wherein we’re working very hard at not working at what we should be working at. The job we’re all avoiding at this very moment? It’s the one task, goal, drudge work that needs our attention the most. In very Zen-like terms? I would intone, “Chop wood, carry water,” which harkens back to a specific Zen Koan that reminds us that even the great spiritual masters need to do a little bit of the daily chores to keep it all on the level. “Feet on ground, head in clouds,” so to speak.

The distracting, “First I have to do this before I can get to work” stuff is what can knock us off our path. Tackle the hard part first, then worry about the “spiritual” material.

Chop wood; carry water. (Our Sagittarius monastery needs it.)

Capricorn:

“Remember that Pontiac mini-van my mom had?” Not really, but I nodded in assent. “It went through 5, count them 5 transmissions. 2, no 3 AC units. Mom wasn’t allowed to leave the city limits because it would break down. She had to carry a case of oil, like, everywhere.”

Sad tale of a doomed vehicle. Have I ever seen or heard of similar “haunted” cars, other vehicles? Sure. “This was before cell phones, you know, so we would get a call from a pay phone, someplace…” The story goes on and on, while, one would have to expect, that a certain portion of that must be buried in the land of myth, and dressed up memories, making the situation far more entertaining than it really was.

This isn’t about an old family car that no one wanted. This is about how to deal with adversity, because, as the Sun and Mars go along, there will a situation that needs “dealing with,” as in, stop everything, and go over with a quart of oil. Tow rope, air compressor, maybe, here’s an idea, a Triple A card? (AAA Mobile – AAA) Let the stranded motorist experts deal with it. Here’s a better idea, if it was like that old Pontiac? Trade it in. Get a new one. Seems like the easiest fix to me. But I’m not Capricorn and I’m not married to that old Pontiac.

Aquarius:

Patterns. Simple, single word, in its plural form, that’s what this is about Patterns. Aquarius patterns? Not so much, more like personal patterns, routines, actions, reactions, and more important? Predictable patterns you’re in. Not really a rut, so to speak, but pattern. Like driving home the same way, every day. I had one Aquarius client, she would never drive home from work, the same way. Lived on the Left Coast, I suppose, more of a car culture there. The old aphorism, “Can’t step in the same stream, twice?” Same deal. Change the pattern. Look at the problem from a different perspective. Think about the issue from another person’s point-of-view. Patterns. Look at the patterns, not all rote-actions, you know, habits, like, say, brushing my teeth every evening before bed, no, not all of these patterns are bad. However, they all do require a second look.

To me, the pattern is the way the Aquarius deals with an issue, and that pattern needs to change, or, if you do change the pattern, it might bring a more successful, and quicker conclusion.

Pisces:

“You said, in fact, you PROMISED it would be better this week, Mr. Smarty-pants astrology, fishing guide, thing. Person.” She spit out the last word, I think I was about to be called something else. Here’s how this breaks down, the fog, for one out of every two Pisces is lifting. Clarity, as promised, now delivered. 50/50 shot that it’s you. The other half? Still dazed and morally confused? Sure, get mad at me for the “You promised it would be better and it’s not!”

Oh, never mind. Here’s how this works, this week. I’ve already given you a fifty-fifty shot at “everything” being “better,” however that manifests in your Pisces life. As promised, from last week. Half of ya’ll get it. The other half, don’t. Here’s what happens: you get to choose. You can be either half. Choice is yours, dear Pisces. Choice is yours.

Part of the half that’s spitting mad at me? You change that before you get to the end of these horoscopes, if you want. You have the power to change it for better. Do it. Do it, now, dear Pisces.

Aries:

Is it possible to repair or replace the past? Once it’s been done, can it be undone? And, more important, what’s with the questions?

When I’m around family, my family, I’ve watched as a curious amount of history, family lore, gets rewritten, sometimes, as it’s happening. The way I recall a situation, an event, a piece of shared experiences, with the emphasis on “shared,” then, to hear the tale spun differently, by various members of the family so that the state, the event’s name, that much is true, but the story about what happened?

Yeah, not so much.

There’s a kind of pressure on Aries, even now, and that planetary pressure is trying to get a change. Trying to make a difference. Also, trying to rewrite a shared experience, and here’s the problem: with multiple witnesses? Can’t change the story, not that completely. “I thought I saw,” or, personal best, “I feel” are useful expressions to employ. However, wholesale change? That’s not going to work.

Taurus:

I may be late to this party, but over the years, I’ve grown fond of Marcus Aurelius. He’s best known for his “Meditations,” which was really a selection of material he was writing for himself, as a Stoic and then the trail gets dim, as both Pagans and Christians claim his works as part of their canons of “approved” material.

Doesn’t much matter, not to me, as I like his works for “dipping.”

Like, with a fingertip, scrolling, through the book, hitting on something that makes sense. Excellent source for quotes, and like the Bible or Shakespeare, I can find a quote for anything. What was most interesting, as I’ve got several translations, I found that one of the more archaic (dated) English translations used the term “astrologers” alongside “Chaldeans” as a group of people who predicted stuff, presumably by the stars. Like me. What was odd, in several other translations, the words were substantially different. Which just goes to point out the problem with translations.

My weakness with Latin is no use; the original I have is an academic one, and the language is Greek. Can’t even read that stuff. As I was looking at your chart, the difference in translations, while there are more modern efforts made to keep the “sense” intact, the words were different from the older versions. In part, the English language has mutated, but then, too, this is the problem with a single source. Unless it’s malt, and this isn’t about Scotch, so a single source isn’t going to work. Multiple sources. Compare. Contrast. Tease out the meaning by consulting several, not just one.

Gemini:

Girlfriend was with me when I was shopping for some fishing gear. As I meandered, with purpose, among the rows and rows of tackle, she looked at me then exclaimed, “Oh, this is like accessories, the accessories make the outfit!”

I detest the thought that my valuable fishing tackle is lumped as bangles that a woman would wear, but if the metaphor is apt? Wear it?

My “accessories,” like a purse and shoes that match, which, frankly, I don’t get at all, but no one asked me, anyway, the accessories are important, and they do make the outfit. I was getting outfitted for inshore coastal fishing, but the principle is the same across a variety of situations. Gemini situations. Gemini situations, this week. Accessories. They make the outfit.