The time is out of joint—O cursed spite,
That ever I was born to set it right!
Nay, come, let’s go together.

Hamlet in Shakespeare’s Hamlet 1.v.187-9

Jupiter (retrograde) oppose Uranus conjunct Mars; New Moon in Pisces. But what does that mean?

Horoscopes starting 2.23.2017

Pisces:

Digging way back into my personal history, there was study method I used to employ. For college and university classes, I would start, at the beginning of the semester, a pile, a single pile of hand-written notes, typed notes, research for papers, and books that had to be read for that semester. So at the start of each academic period, I would have a single pile for each class. Three to five piles, sort of depended, and in later years, I’ve used this as an organizational method that is partially effective. For any given project, I’ll pile all the required parts in one place. Liked doing this a semester at a time, as that was easier and it gave a limited time-frame for each project/class. I’d start out with the books and required texts, then I’d get the syllabus, as a bottom sheet, and the material would accumulate, over the next few months. At the end of the semester, I would toss paper notes, notebooks, and printed material, and for many years, I would assiduously keep the books, but even the ones I never, ever referenced again, those have all gradually been discarded — or recycled.

This new moon in Pisces is the start. Gather up the parts and pieces of the up and coming Pisces project, looks like it will take a few months, get that stuff in one place. I prefer the “pile it” method, but whatever works? Gather the resources to plot your Pisces way forward.

Pisces: Pile it to push Pisces?

Aries:

My dear Aries, you do realize I’ve been coaching and coaxing you how to deal with this, right? And, my dear Aries, you do realize that jumping into the fray, at this very moment, will probably not go well? To say the least, “Not go well. At all.” The current displacement of the planets foretells — according to some — trouble. Big trouble. Issues, problems, and worst of all, hasty decisions by Aries that result in making matters worse. Which is why I’m here to help.

The facts, this is so simple, look at the players, Uranus, Mars, Jupiter, and to a lesser extent, Venus and Pluto, maybe toss in little Mercury commentary, to be safe. Usually, my Aries friends are best with “Shoot now, ask questions later,” as — usually — an Aries shooting from the hip is way better than a reasoned and plausible account from any other sign. Still, the problem being, the challenge with this week’s energies? Being too hasty. Usually, I can count on an Aries to be the best at the correct action, at the correct time.

Usually. These are not typical times, and these times require more time than you feel like you’re willing to give, or more time to see the most correct solution, again, not an Aries trait. More time. Less haste.

Aries: Simply put? Pause. I didn’t say stop; I just said, “Pause.”

Taurus:

Working for close to three decades in a professional capacity as a “reader,” the term that applies, at least in internal documents? We’re “Spooks.” With the advent of secret-agent adventure literature, in popular culture and other media? The term also applies to the nefarious (and largely fictional) worlds of espionage and counterespionage, as well. As a “spook,” though, I’m conversant with a number of belief systems, with ghosts, and real-live ghost-busters as part of my world. Part of the derivation for the term, I’d suppose.

As a “spook,” I’m used to the world of dreams and fantasies, where the two worlds collide with the real world. For Taurus, this next week is about paying attention to the subtle, maybe haunting, clues. Symbols that are not obvious, but clear, nonetheless. Intuitions, memories, dreams, events that seems keep occurring. One old girlfriend, I kept running into her, everywhere. Like she was stalking me. At work, at the store, walking along the sidewalk, spooky-like. Coincidence? Maybe.

Or maybe there is more. As a Taurus, you don’t usually read too much into the signs. This one will be obvious, though.

If it’s not obvious, you can always hire me to read the signals.

Gemini:

This week, let’s borrow a “page” from Bubba, the archetype for Gemini.

“Man, I get these great ideas when I’m going in to work, so what I do now? I use that ‘voice record’ thing on my phone. Works well!”

So this involves generating Gemini ideas, this involve remembering those Gemini ideas, and this involves talking. All good stuff. All of this works. I’m not sure how much he goes back to reference his notes, as I’m not clear on that aspect of this arrangement, not for that one Gemini.

From Gemini to Gemini, the part about “I do my best thinking when” varies. However, the concept of making a note, maybe just a short, spoken note, perhaps that’s way more effective than the way I stop and write stuff down. Or, these days, I tend to thumb it into my phone but the idea is the same. For me, though, I have to pause while I jot down a reference point or idea. Means I pause on the sidewalk. Not in the car, not on a busy street, just off to one side. But that’s me. Since Gemini is usually such an active sign? Voice Record notes. You’ll has the idea, but no need to stop — like me — and write down those Gemini pearls of wisdom. Voice Record.

Cancer:

I was in local grocery store when I saw this. Could be anywhere, but this was just around the corner from me. Young lady, presumably a young mom, she had a kid in tow, young kid, and then there was one in the basket. The kid in the basket was bawling its eyes out. Just mewling and crying like there was bloody murder. End of the world, life was over for that child. The mom was ignoring the outcry and calmly pushing the cart, second kid in tow, just down the aisle. The crying creature was reaching behind the mom, outreached hands grasping at air.

Looked like some fresh foods, milk, maybe eggs, I don’t know, but the cereal aisle was what caused the problem. I’m an adult, or adult-aged, and if I want “sugar-coated, sugar-frosted, sugar-bombs” for breakfast, or any meal of the day, I can certainly have it. I’ll also have to pay a price for that, but this isn’t about me, this is about the mom and the kid. She was patiently avoiding the desire of the child because, a bright package and promise of a prize inside does not always equate with the best food for the child.

Cancer: Adult decisions, this week. Adult decisions.

The Leo:

There’s a chain of used bookstores I love to haunt. More than new book bookstores, the books themselves in the used sections tell stories. What’s being read, what’s not being read, what was supposed to be a best-seller, only to flame-out. Then, too, there’s arcane books, some good, some bad, some interesting. Some not so much. I picked up a used text about a fairly arcane topic in astrology, a subset of what I do, and the book was published by one of the leading sources for astrological information. So it was supposed to be good. My copy still has the used price on it. Slim little text, filled with, what to me, is obvious technical analysis of astrology problems, and the way astrology — the placement of the planets — is used to influence the outcome. The book cites case studies, historical events, and while both detailed and technical in its terminology, accessible enough.

Standing in the bookstore, scanning the book, I figured it was useful. However, after I got home, settled down on the couch and started to really read the text? Author is dry, lacks style and wit, plus the material itself? While presented as highly technical, this is stuff I do naturally, on the fly. No big, deep analysis needed. Just occurs naturally, with me.

I’ve been doing this a long time. Buying that used text proved that I know what I know. It helped. I probably won’t get rid of the text any time too soon.

The Leo: You already know this stuff, but, if like me, you need to buy that book to affirm it, then, by all means, buy the book.

Virgo:

The main planet for Virgo is Mr. Mercury. Mercury moves into Pisces and moves into opposition to Virgo. Not bad, not good, not anything. However, there’s a time to be “creative,” especially with excuses, ideas, and weird plans with no hope for serious implementation — and this isn’t one of those times.

“But I’ve got a great idea!”

I’m sure you do. Write it down. Make note of it. Turn it over in your lovely Virgo mind. Maybe keep it to yourself, too. There’s a weird amount of energy floating free, see the heading, and you’ll understand that no matter how wonderful your Virgo self is? No matter how wonderful your Virgo idea might be? That creative solution that is so obvious to you and not to anyone else? There might be a reason why your Virgo self loves it, and no one else sees it. Sit on it. Sit on that idea, quietly. Think about my favorite Virgo archetype, the straight-laced librarian with her tresses in a bun, primly attired in Victorian-collared, button-up dresses. Didn’t say it wasn’t a good idea, just, not now. Not yet.

Libra:

I had one, antique, desk that I lovingly treated with a compound that was supposedly “Pure Bees Wax.” Since this is a dated reference, it no longer matters whether that was pure bees’ wax, or just some kind of a chemical alternative. As my work habits mutated and changed, I had another desk that I would only use a soft cloth and gentle wax-compound to give the desk itself a lustrous shine. Protected from water spots, too. My current working space, yes, I still use a desk, but this one is different. When asked? I use the cheap, knock-off version of “Lemon Pledge,” which is probably full of noxious chemicals, and the aerosol is bad for the environment, and frankly, for the convenience? I can’t be bothered. It doesn’t take much more than a spritz and quick swap with a rag.

For Libra, it’s about fining that easier, quicker, more sustainable way to get that task done. I also — carefully — chose a cleaning example. There’s something that needs some attention, like a simple swipe with a cleaning cloth. You can, if so motivated, go and find the “pure bees wax” type of compound, then spend hours lovingly working the wax into the finish.

Or, take my example, after years and years? A quick swipe with a knock, imitation, even generic brand. See if that doesn’t work, just as well.

Scorpio:

Couple of options on this one. Take a break from the day job. Take a “mental health day.” Call in sick. Run away for a day. Tell the boss you’re working from home. Or, wait until you have some time off then pretend you’re running away for the day. There’s a strong need to break free from the usual constraints, and me? I would never, ever try and contain a Scorpio in any way, shape or form. I know better. Bu that’s me. I’m a sole voice in a sea of people trying exert, looks like work, looks like stuff at the Scorpio day job, looks like someone, or multiple someones are trying to hold you down, tie you up, suppress, repress, something that’s not fun.

Couple of options on this one. Take a break. Run away for a day. Excuse yourself from the presence of the folks who are actively trying to hold you down. You’re Scorpio! You can pretty effectively evade the grasp of someone who you don’t want gripping your neck.

Me? I’d never grip a Scorpio by the neck. Up comes that tail, with its stinger, and, while not deadly, it does hurt. A lot. I know.

So, I didn’t say, “Don’t do the work,” but plan on a break from those who would suppress the Scorpio will.

Sagittarius:

Break it up. Simple as that. Break up the monotonous routine. For years, I used tiny espresso cups, properly a demitasse, for drinking my morning coffee, while I wrote. Perfect example of how to “Break it up.” Those tiny cups hold about three swigs of coffee before it gets down to the grounds (French Press coffee). Then I’d have to wander off to the kitchen area to get more coffee, a quick refill. A two-cup coffee maker felt like 8 or 10 cups of coffee, and over a whole morning of working, it was lots of coming and going, to-ing and fro-ing, which, if you pause, is my example of “Breaking it up.”

There’s good and there’s bad, and the Pisces New Moon is — not exactly — comfortable for Sagittarius. The trick? “Break it up.” Break the task, the goals, the desires, the job at the Sagittarius hands? Take that and break it into more manageable pieces. Or, like me, since the job didn’t change, I just made it seem like a bunch of smaller parts, instead of doing the Sagittarius thing, and merely looking at the big picture.

Sagittarius: Break it up.

Capricorn:

It’s change, and sometimes, this feels like change that is not of your own, Capricorn making. The challenge, and the good stuff, all wrapped up in one? The key is the term, “Feels like,” while, in the bigger way of seeing this situation, this enforced change? It’s something your secret Capricorn self has wanted, all along. Traditionally, many astrology writers tend to characterize Capricorn as “Stubborn as an old goat.” Not me. I do use the example of the mountain goats in impossibles places, but that’s not the same old goat. So this change, what’s coming along and almost being forced, a certain amount of coercion, as this week’s energies unfold?

Change. And “change” that feels like it is not of your own, Capricorn making. However, with that stubborn energy present — not Capricorn stubborn — but persistent anyway? With that energy, employ that to effectively make the change, the transition, the motion towards the changes that seem to be, feel like, the required new changes. Grow, change, and adapt? Forget stuck in the same place, like that old goat.

Aquarius:

Back in the day? Old buddy, not an Aquarius, but he had an Aquarius Moon? So he was “sort of” Aquarius, right? Anyway, he was noted as being a bit of “clothes horse,” which, at that time, back in the day, meant he was always fashionably attired. Snappy dresser. Think, along the lines of, Zoot Suits and similar, if somewhat dated, attire. Oh good lord, he has grandbabies, now, from the social media feeds I was scrolling through. Still appears to be a snappy dresser.

His special touch? It wasn’t what he was wearing, but how he wore it. Still applies, even in this day and age. My old buddy was one of the first “thrift store stylists,” as in, he bought old stuff for pennies then made it look like a million dollars, to confuse the issues. My fine, Aquarius friends?

It’s not what you wear, but how you wear it.

It’s old wisdom, drawn on a distant past, but the idea is sound, and with what’s going on, especially with your planets?

“It’s not what you wear, but how you wear it.”