I am glad of your departure. Adieu, good Monsieur Melancholy.

Orlando in Shakespeare’s As You Like It (3.2.160)

Horoscopes starting 2.4.2016

Aquarius

Until I landed in San Antonio, Texas, I was sure that healthy meals and delicious meals were separate items. To be sure, Austin and its satellites have BBQ, and San Antonio towers above the rest for TexMex, so for many years, healthy and tasty seemed unlikely.

One place, at first, a bit of a dive, challenged the equilibrium of the balance between healthy (vegan) nutrition and flavor. Turns out the head chef was derived from a long line of cooks with deep familial ties to established restaurant heritage in San Antonio. He patted his stomach, “I became vegan for health reasons, but I didn’t stop eating well.” Gentle smile.

With what is at hand, tasty and healthy is possible. With what is at hand for Aquarius, the idea is that there is a single solution that fits all the parties, all the questions, all the needs. It’s a matter of looking around. In my example, it was first in off-beat, dive-looking place in a neighborhood that wasn’t quite yet “Up and coming.” Dig, dig a little deeper, look around. The good taste and healthy can be found. Happy Birthday, too.

Pisces

When I see the letters, “RSC,” I think of one organization, the Royal Shakespeare Company. RSC, to me, that translates to a professional, endowed by the monarchy or something, organization with solid, dependable performances. Not always the greatest, but usually dependably good. I’ve seen a number of the shows, and the company has a decent reputation, decent repertoire. So when I see the letters, “RSC,” I have an immediate reaction and thought process.

Locally, when I saw the sign on the side of a truck, I wondered what the Royal Shakespeare Company was doing in Texas. I looked again, at the fine print underneath the lettering. Roofing Supply Company. Not the RSC I was thinking about. Not the direction I was going. As a true Pisces, you see where, and how, I was going with my analysis of the lettering. As a Pisces, you could make the leap. The challenge to this week’s Aquarius? It’s okay for Pisces to leap to conclusions, but as far as telling other people, especially, non-Pisces folks? Maybe we should keep the RSC, Royal Shakespeare Co., Roofing Supply mix-up too ourselves.

Aries

I have a favorite passage from a particular play, a long monologue. I tried to memorize it once, but the words, it’s very formal speech, it does not fall lightly or trippingly off my tongue. Rhythm and meter are difficult in that one speech. Over the years , I’ve listened to wide variety of Shakespeare’s plays read aloud, usually dramatized, from several sources. That one play, like the play used for the opening quote, it’s a problem play. Not many people practice that monologue. When I heard it read aloud, the part, it’s a choice bit, the speech that I can almost recite? Poor vocal talent just thrashed it. “Da-da, da-da, da-dum,” each line clearly read as a line, not as a part of a consistent whole.

I’m a better critic than performer, as I can’t do that one speech myself. However, I love its wordplay and formal diction, high-blown prose. Good stuff, just that one version? Sucked. It did not ruin the whole performance for me, and I can’t deliver that speech any better than the guy reading the part, in the first place.

I’ve seen one stage version of the play where it was done, and done well. I’ll praise that one version. The free version on the web? Not so much. I had such hopes, too. English accents and all? You’d think, I’d think, they could get that one right. It’s a tough speech, full of frightful philosophies, and ponderous problems. Are you a better critic than performer? Like me in this situation? Can your Aries self criticize but unable to do the part justice, yourself? I know, I was sorely tempted to say, “I could do a better job,” but the sad truth is, I couldn’t.

I’ll admit my limits. Aries?

Taurus

The old wives’ tale, the idea that the quickest way to to tell a good egg from a bad one? Place the egg in a glass of water. Good eggs sink to the bottom. Bad eggs float. It’s a simple test.

I have no way of knowing if this is true. I tend to buy my eggs at the farmer’s market, free-range, all-natural, and fresh. Can’t say that the eggs are good or bad, although, in the last half-dozen years, I’ve cracked open two eggs and those were both noticeably bad. In the course of maybe six or seven years? I’ll take the two bad ones. After the egg was cracked open, evidence that the egg had been fertilized, never mind, not pretty, the other time was the stink of rotting egg, again, not really a useful image.

Should I test every egg before breakfast with a glass of water? Good eggs sink, bad eggs float? So I’m stuck with watery shells on the eggs? Doesn’t work for me, but in Taurus, with Mars opposite in Scorpio? There’s a basic, simple test. On or off. Yes or no. Sink or float. Simple test. When you get the results of that simple test, like the egg floats, or sinks? Whatever the results of the test, follow that. Kind of like a Taurus witch hunt, only, for real. Simple test, sink or float.

Gemini

There’s a theme that suggests “Romance” running alongside the Gemini chart. I was thinking this is more like a concurrent thematic element rather than a core issue. Depends on whom one is addressing.

To some, “Romance” is a big deal, while, to others, not so much. The trick is that this is an element that is running alongside rather than being at the heart of the situation. Hence the Gemini problem and conundrum: what to do? It’s like one of the two Gemini twins is interested in one topic while the other twin is obviously interested in something more important. That’s the message. The easiest way to conquer is to divide the problems. As a normal Gemini, that’s not a difficult task. With the Mars influence, though, there’s an added level of friction, consternation and possible disappointment. Rather than running, hiding, or otherwise avoiding the concurrent “Romance” theme, my suggestion is to reach out and goose its left bun. Maybe a pinch, maybe tickle, maybe just a hard look. Depends on the individual situation. But give that “romance” thing, whatever it is, give that some attention. It’s been beside you, pacing you, for some time now. Just suggesting we see where it goes.

Cancer

There’s a shade of lovely intensity that colors the Moon Child’s chart, this week. Strange brew, as it has to do with little planets, like Pluto, Venus and Mercury, all in Capricorn. Tension is two-fold, Sun and Mars and then, Uranus, in Aries. So there’s small tensions, and possibly big changes.

I prefer to make this energy about choices, and the idea is to choose wisely. I’m not good at that myself, might not be the best person to ask about “Choose wisely,” but as an idea, as a compound element? That’s the secret. The intensity can be either good or bad, and me? Mr. Happy? Yes, I see this as good intensity, and moreover, it’s just a shading. Like a flavor, like scent from incense, not an overpowering essence, just a shade, like a background color. Use that intensity wisely, as there’s much to do with it, and there’s a healthy outlet, provided, big proviso here, the intense degree of feelings is well-used. There’s no room for anger, admonishment or diatribes, not this next few days. Such feelings are an indulgence we can ill-afford in Cancer at the moment.

The Leo

Mars, in Scorpio, “squares” the Sun, in Aquarius, which is opposite the majestic Leo. Rolling tension angles that bode no well, not for this week’s tempestuous Leo. Here’s the deal, to properly harness this energy? Use the big tools. I was preparing some veggies, slice and dice, with a tiny paring knife that is, indeed, razor sharp. With the little knife, I was making small, precise cuts and getting sloppy, like I usually do in the kitchen, I felt the sharp blade cut into the tip of a finger. My finger. I stopped, ran cold water on the injury, cursed, then wrapped it in a towel fragment with blood dripping everywhere.

Biggest injury? My pride. Painful, not much more than a paper cut, but more inconvenient than anything else. That, and my pride. As I mused about my self-inflicted cooking injury, I realized the problem was the little paring knife. I typically use a large chopping blade for veggie slice and dice. Big knife works fine and I am way less likely to cut myself. I can’t say why, I’m sure there’s a deep psycho-sexual reason for it, but that doesn’t matter. Bigger knife? Fewer injuries. The idea I had for the wonderful Leo, this next few days, through this tense period? Use bigger tools. I left that paring knife the drawer, after that incident, and I’ve been much happier, back to using big tools.

Leo: Use big tools.

Virgo

Some actions never cease to amaze me. In this example, for Virgo, with a certain Virgo in mind, even, the secret was a simple layer of paint. Nothing more than just a quick layer of water-soluble latex house paint. Flat white, latex paint. Simple stuff. A single layer of that stuff, in one room, made all the difference. It was a single coat of paint, all it took.

While this might seem like a simple case where I’m trying to “whitewash” a complex and complicated Virgo problem, the idea is that there is a simple solution. Doesn’t cure all, but in my example? It worked well. Changed the whole dynamics to the room, which, in turn, changed the dynamics to the house, which, in turn, changed everything about that Virgo life. A simple change, in this example, and as an idea to move forward? A single coat of paint. While I gratefully lifted the idea from Feng-Shui consultant, the source doesn’t matter, I’ve seen it work. As a goody-two-shoes Virgo? As a good little Virgo? As a kick-ass, take-no-prisoners Virgo? There’s a really simple solution to cover up that which annoys you so. It’s as easy as a simple coat of paint over the walls.

Libra

This is about how you can humanly deal with minor annoyances. The “New Moon” is cool, but the rest of the week’s energy is fraught with minor annoyances. The problem with being a perfect Libra is that the minor irritations, over time, like in the span of the next few days? The minor issues can become a big old honking deal, if you let them accumulate.

Deal with one issue at a time. Problem. Resolution, issue? Addressed. One at a time. Little by little. Bit by bit. Inch by inch. Maybe even centimeter by centimeter. Small increments. Letting a few of these petty grievances stack up becomes a big problem. Deal with each, petty, insignificant “thing” that comes up, as it comes up and by the end of the week, there will be a huge pile of accomplished goals. Won’t happen quickly.

Scorpio

There are some things seems like only I notice in diners. Little South Texas place, smallish town. I watched as one of the patrons tapped an insulin syringe, bared a thigh, shot up insulin, then the table all bowed their heads in prayer, “Thank you lord for this food…” Crossed themselves and tucked into a huge plate of chicken-fried steak goodness with enough caloric content to choke a horse. That place has huge chicken-fried steaks. So-so on meat quality, but makes up for in quantity. Works for me, but I can’t eat there every day, nor would I, as I’d probably have to do the insulin shot, too. Works like that, I suppose.

That diner scene is about preparations. What’s required of Scorpio, as long as Mars fries his way along. That’s what both the prayer and the insulin shot was about. Cosmic preparation and chemical/physical preparation. Be prepared. I can’t cover enough material in this short of a time, but like that one person dining at an adjacent table, let’s just say she was a Scorpio, and that is what this is all about, being prepared. Before you dive in, Scorpio, before you tuck a napkin under your chin and start sawing your way through a meal like that? Proper preparation, both spiritual and physical, is required. Do both — you’ll live longer that way.

Sagittarius

I am Sagittarius. I read my horoscope religiously because I write them as a reminder, for me as much as anything. This addresses that Sagittarius energy we got going on right about now. If it works?

Don’t change a thing.

Reminds me, I think the expression came from a fishing trip, tip from fishing trip, and the expression?

“If it works? Don’t change a thing.”

In the example it was fishing gear, a certain bait we were using. It was a piece of bait that was chewed up by the first big redfish, then swallowed by a second big red, and finally, a third got hooked on it, too. Three fish. One set up, one piece of bait. Made the first two cough it back up and by the third, I think I let him keep it. I guess the images are on the site someplace. So the message, if it is working? Like that one type of bait?

If it is working? Then don’t change a thing.

I hope I remember that next week, myself. Fishing, for Sagittarius, should be good.

Capricorn

Every once in a while, you get a shot like this. Take it. You have 50/50 chance of it being a good one. Make the most of it. There’s a lot of stuff sifting through your Capricorn psyche, blame it on Mars in Scorpio, so that’s why you get a shot at this. Might be good. Might be great. Might fail abysmally.

Can’t say you didn’t give it a try; can’t say you didn’t put forth the effort. Can’t say I didn’t say “Not to do it.” My caution, such that it is, there’s a dead even chance of success or failure. One or the other. Won’t be both, but if you don’t take a chance, then you can’t say you tried. Besides, at 50/50? If the first time doesn’t work, the next time might just be a screaming success. We’ll never know unless you give it a shot. Which circles back to my original suggestion.

Give it a shot.

Try. Take a risk. 50/50 is just like flipping the coin. Ask Rosencranz and Guildenstern about that one. You’ll never know if you don’t give it a shot.

The meditation track, updated: Meditation 1 (mp3)