- Open your ears; for which of you will stop
The vent of hearing when loud Rumor speaks?
I, from the orient to the drooping west
(Making the wind my post-horse), still unfold
The acts commenced on this ball of earth.
Upon my tongues continual slanders ride,
The which in every language I pronounce,
Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
Rumor in the
Prologue to Henry IV, pt. 2, (1.1.1-8)
Interesting introduction to one of Shakespeare’s play, not used often, a chorus or prologue. Careful about false reports when Mercury is still, well, inconvenienced. Happy Birthday to that one special Aries. Sign up for the mailing list.
Horoscopes for 3.28.2019
When I lived in downtown San Antonio, I really didn’t recall this tradition, and I passed that way frequently. But like the places in Italy, perhaps more famous, there’s a bridge in downtown San Antonio, adjacent to the fabled San Antonio River and its Riverwalk. There are a series of locks attached to the bridge’s railing. The deal is, two lovers profess their undying love, inscribe their names or initials on a lock, attach that lock to the bridge’s railing, then throw the keys into the river. This means, the two lovers are forever bound together, as those keys are now lost. No way to undo the binding elements. Not to put too fine a point on it, but “forever” seems like a long time; although, in this example, the symbolism is not lost, just the keys themselves. I’m big on symbolic gestures, even if this is a tradition that seems a little new. This week calls for a symbolic action, a tradition, or something as simple as two sets of initials, carved into a lock, attached to a bridge downtown. Aries: Birthdays and symbolic gestures.
Before the next horoscope gets here? Mars is going to move out Taurus. Should make you feel a little better. Might, should, feel a little less “antsy.” Mars has been burning and churning, or churning and burning, depends, along the way to make Taurus quicker than usual. Quicker to answer, and quicker to anger. Mars isn’t always all about “rage,” or rage against that which we can’t seem t put a finger, but that seems to pop up more frequently.
So, by next week; we all feel better in Taurus-land. How that plays out, thought, before Mars leaves? There’s one, single, Mars-inspired event. Issue. Problem? Maybe not a problem, so much as the people behind you or in front of you, those people, you know them? They all seem to be moving at a pace that upsets your normally gentle Taurus equilibrium. Figure out the problem as being Mars? That helps. Understanding that you might have to do three laps to our normal one lap in order to keep up with what’s going on around you. It’s OK, because, as long as this is Mars inspired? You have the juice to keep that up.
Getting ready for Mars entering Gemini? Need to reduce the coefficient of friction. Grease comes to mind. Soap is another useful method. There are various lubricants and oils, usually, that are helpful. In some cases, something as simple as water is the perfect way to reduce the drag. Make things go smoother. We all need smooth. We like smooth. Mars can grind away on your soul, while it’s in your sign, for sure. Or opposite, too. Same thing. You personal — Gemini specific — way to reduce that wear and tear? Sort of depends on the individual chart, but that it is an issue? That goes across all the Gemini charts I know. Sagittarius, too, as this is opposite from us. I feel your pain. No, really I do. I do. Seriously.
Reduce that coeffeicent of friction, this next day or two, and see if that doesn’t help by the time Mars slides on into your sign. Mars and Mercury, the “M” planets, bringing fun and games to Gemini. In a hurry. Grab something to smooth that transition.
I was looking over an upcoming article, and I was about to push “Publish it” (print) button. I paused, there was a place where I’d mistyped “its” and “it’s.” I’m well aware of the differences. “Its” is possessive, his “his” and “hers” while “it’s” is the contraction form of “it is.” Yes, I know this. Yes, I was going to correct it as this is a pet peeve of mine. But there was another mistyped word in the next paragraph, and them I forgot to go back and make the first correction. I had the second one, just not the first. I hit the button to make it “live,” and it as about three minutes later, a picky grammar nerd, not unlike myself, hit me back with a notice about the correction. Mocked me. Mocked me with no mercy. There are two culprits here; one is the typing itself, I was in hurry and not thinking about my fingers. Bad typing. The other is the auto-correct feature which does a version of grammar that isn’t always correct, witness my conundrum and “epic fail” over the possessive versus contraction. I know the difference. Apparently, the auto-correct feature — or my typing — could be either one — but apparently one those can’t tell. I can save you my pain — and embarrassment, in the coming days. When you hit that first mistake? Stop. Correct it. Save the work. Don’t think you can multitask and correct three things at once, unless, of course, you don’t mind getting teased by a sanctimonious, self-serving grammar nerd.
You’ve read and heard all I’ve noted about Mercury in Retrograde. I tend to suggest that it’s like the weather, especially in Texas, can’t control it, can’t do anything about it, might as well enjoy it. Same applies to Mercury in Retrograde, which, technically, Mercury won’t be like that much longer. There’s another influence, though, that I was looking at, and I got thinking about The Leo, and how this impacts you. What I would suggest, your magnificence?
What I would suggest is that you plan to treat the next three weeks just like it was Mercury still in Retorgrade, which, as noted, technically, it’s not. But it sure feels like it, doesn’t it? Kind of the clue — and an idea about how to deal with what pops up, especially after the weekend is over. Pretend — if it is for the The Leo then the rest of the world should oblige and play along — but let’s pretend that Mercury is just Retrogrde for the foreseeable future. Plan, and act, accordingly. It’s not really Mercury, per se, but the effect is nearly identical. Can’t argue with it; well, you can, but you won’t win; and you can’t change it. Work with what’s here, or, better yet, work with what’s not here.
The largest percentage of Virgo types that I deal with, the greater number all about “organization.” Order, perfect order, in a sea of chaos. Perfect, sublime, clean, ordered, and numbered, like, all the books on the shelves are organized by author’s last name, then year published, all in perfect order. One Virgo I knew? She organized by color, the books’ spines were all arranged in a rainbow fashion, but it was a system that made perfect sense to her, and, to be brutally honest, like I am, it looked quite good. Both her and the books. Library. Librarian. That desire for organization, along “normal” lines, like organized by author and publishing sequence? That makes sense — to me. However, as an alternative format? My little Virgo date who organized her library by jacket — or cover — color, then size? That works, and as a suggestion towards this week’s planet placements? For Virgo? Think about an alternative way to organize. Doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else but your Virgo self.
One client, Libra Sun Sign, if you must know, had one of those new-fangled “sitting/standing” desktops. It was a hydraulically-operated unit, sort of, more springs and levers, with a keyboard and monitor all that could be raised or lowered, sitting or standing. The challenge as this week unfolds? Sitting. No, standing. No, need to sit for this one. No, should be standing. Up. down. Up, no, down, no, up.
My suggestion was to wire in a timer and have the automated desktop change its position every 15 minutes. Sitting, then standing, then sitting. “But what happens when I put my coffee cup there, and it changes position?” I would guess, depending on the equipment, the amount of coffee, how close the coffee is to the keyboard, and if it’s a covered keyboard, sort of all depends on that, but the more exposed the hardware is? The better chance for coffee to wind up making a big mess.
So much for my automated idea. The challenges get worse, as each suggestion is faced with a possible outcome that isn’t good for all involved. After reviewing this week’s charts, planets, and calculations? I just had an image of that desktop, in almost constant motion. When it’s moving? No work can get accomplished at all. Constant state of motion, as Libra tries to decide. Up or down? I’d pick one and stick with it, but I’m not Libra. “You’re right.” Sighs. “But standing would be healthier, right?” Me? I’d take this sitting down.
The planets incline and suggest, but the planets do not dictate. That’s the order for this week’s Scorpio. The inclinations are towards a successful resolution. That successful outcome is dependent upon certain Scorpio actions. Communication is paramount, and understanding how to harness the disparate energies that seem scattered? That’s the key to harnessing all the elements that result in that successful outcome. Instead of trying fourteen different methods to get from here (where we’re at) to there (where Scorpio wants to be), pick one and grind away.
Pick one that you can grind away with, too. Pick one where the grind is pleasant for your Scorpio self, as well. I’d pick one where I enjoyed the grinding, as it were, since that’s what the Scorpio should be doing the rest of the week. There’s a very marked tendency to try three different targets, then try six different routes to get there from here. Instead of letting Mercury and Saturn shatter and scatter your Scorpio energies like that? Pick one. Pick one goal, one destination. Pick one task that might require your good, Scorpio tenacity. Pick one, then grind way. Some would suggest, “Grind happily away.”
I had on an old T-Shirt from a Shakespeare thing. Girl behind the counter looked at me, and I quoted a snippet from Shakespeare’s Henry V, the intro bit about “This wooden O.” That ties to the prologue used for this week, you know? Barely, but yeah. My experience, though, “Yeah, I’ve heard about Shakespeare, but what are you saying?” The woman, girl to me, behind the counter didn’t get the reference at all. I would think, Shakespeare’s histories, and Henry V, especially, should be relatively accessible. In a small town in central Texas? Apparently not. I’ve been surprised where scholars show up, or who does — or doesn’t — get my references. I was sorry that my comment missed the mark, in this situation.
This isn’t about quoting Shakespeare’s canon, or little towns in Texas, this is about communication that fails. Fails on several levels. I can blame education, location, and my general demeanor as being a little on the strange side, just for starters. I don’t always rub people the right way. However, thus noted, realize that our little Sagittarius selves are likely to lead into a conversation, or an exchange, something, with the exactly wrong material. Way it goes, right now. Realize, too, that this is merely a passing influence, but our Sagittarius selves would be good to be reminded that sometimes we miss the mark. Totally.
Forget Shakespeare. Let’s talk about Mark Twain (November Sagittarius, if you must know). He had a little pearl of wisdom I never liked much, but looking at Capricorn this week? “Put all your eggs in one basket then watch that basket!” Simple advice from his Pud’n’head Calendar. It was snippets in a novella. Never mind the source, let’s look at the suggestion — as it applies directly to a distracted Capricorn…. I’ve exhorted that “focus” was most important, and I’m reiterating that message as there are myriad of distracting distractions that all vie for Capricorn’s attention.
Pick one. It’s probably the wrong one, but if you don’t pick one, you’ll never know. Pick one, try it. Guard that basket, so to speak. If it turns out to be the wrong basket? We’ll know soon enough. The point is, Aries and its associated energies are going to try and shake your Capricorn self from paying attention to what’s most important. What is most important? Don’t get derailed: pay attention to that one thing, until, you know, it’s not important anymore.
Ever wrestle, almost endlessly, with a decision? “Yes. No. Not now. Maybe later. Maybe now would be better. I just don’t know!” It’s the decision about a fairly inconsequential item, too. Not really a big deal, or is it? Seems like the decision process itself far outweighs the matter of the questions. Hours spent agonizing over a simple deciphering that isn’t that big of a deal, am I right? Or not? Should I pull the plug on that one I’m not sure. Maybe. Definite maybe. Seems like a good enough idea, but really, isn’t that a little much? Too much? Not enough?
Endlessly wrestling with a decision, that, in the long run, in the grand scheme of life, the decisions is rather inconsequential. The mental back and forth motion, the constant internal argument with your Aquarius self about whether or not this is a good idea, and seriously, is it that big of a deal? Well, yes, no, yes, it kind of is a big deal, but no, not really. I can help with this kind of indecision, having recently been wracked — wrecked really — with the same kind of problem.
Here’s the way to deal with this current indisposed nature in Aquarius land: do nothing. No decision is usually the hallmark of a bad decision, but for now? Nothing. Do. Do not. Neither.
One of my fishing buddies kept falling for the same kind of woman. I would think of his selection of women as an Hindu/Indian deity, the one with many arms and blades at the end of the arms. A deity that is sort of an Edward Scissor-Hands. To listen to my buddy talk about it, they (women) were all pretty and nice at first, then turned into monsters with knives, cutting out my buddy’s heart.
The first one, sure, the second, wait a minute, and by the third or fourth encounter, I figured it out: he liked it. He liked the pain, the drama, the sense of destiny, the emotional shipwreck on a deserted island, surrounded by a sea of suffering, with no hope, left to drift aimlessly on the whims of the furious fates. If I could, I would roll my eyes, as after the third time, this was a pattern, not random fate. I just liked the image, once I got a handle on it, of the deity with knives in each hand, and many arms, all twirling and headed towards my buddy. Great to fish with as there’s always some kind of a long tale of his most recent romantic disaster.
If your Pisces self keeps making the same, bad decisions, over and over, keep choosing the wrong way, who’s to blame? As a non-Pisces singer used to sing, “There’s always a woman to blame.” Yeah, that’s it. The last one was a brunette, this is a red-head, the one before was blonde. The last one had a chainsaw, before that, it was just a large hunting knife. Still a Pisces pattern.
astrofish.net/travel for appearances
“Nothing runs on automatic.” - L.W. “Bud” Shipley, Jr.