There will be woe indeed, lords; the sly whoresons
Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies.
A French song and a fiddle has no fellow.
- Sir Thomas in Shakespeare’s Henry 8 1.2.39-41
The Sun moves into the Tropical Zodiacal Sign of Aquarius late on January 20, 2021.
Horoscopes for 1-21-2021
For me, astrology is about the building blocks of who we are. Component pieces, that fit together to etch out an individual’s personal construction. What makes us what we are. These are the events that define us. Or help to define us, as individual events also help fill in the blanks with that canvas, which was originally stretched by the planets of our birth. What we do, individually, within that cosmic framework, that defines us. The framework is our planets. Mars, Uranus, but mostly Mars is grabbing the early Aquarius planets by the scruff of the collar. This can go one of several ways, the obvious being, grabbed by the collar? Probably thrown out. Or otherwise reprimanded, scolded, “Bad Dog!” Or it could be a course correction, again, the image is the scruff of the neck, being directed right back to where our Aquarius selves started, “No sir, you are going to finish this before you do anything else.” Probably should imagine a loud voice and an exclamation point, or two. To some, this can be cartoon-like, and to other Aquarius, this real and palpable energy, coercing and coaching, maybe not in a direction we want to go.
For me, the asteroid Ceres is merely a pinprick of light, and weird symbol with little astrological definitions. That’s me. I tend to stay away from the asteroids except in certain circumstances as their various definitions and symbols can confuse over-arching discussion points about greater trends. The few occasions I do concentrate on a single point like Ceres? It’s because there is a highlight to the meaning. At the start of this horoscope? Ceres and Neptune align, nearly perfectly. Not like this hasn’t happened before, nor, does it mean this won’t happen again, but this week’s prognostication? As the moon moves towards full?
What happens are ideas crop up. Ideas spring from the very fertile Pisces imagination. While the original notion was “harvest,” I tend to see this a little different. The symbol for Ceres is a shepherd’s crook, or harvesting scythe, and I’d like to think that this is the week, before the real Pisces birthdays start, that this is the week when we use that hook to gather the ideas. Didn’t say harvest them yet, but do gather the ideas together. We got something to work with in Pisces-land, and the first part of this process is gathering what might be harvested. All comes from the very fertile imagination section in the Pisces brain.
With the lessening aspect of Mars and Uranus starting to leave less pressure on the Aries household? There’s a chance to move forward with a new plan. Here’s the trick, the new plan? New idea, new concept, new way to face old demons? Consider this a set of possible guidelines, not a plan that is firmly rooted in a certain procedure. All I’m suggesting, that exploded diagram of parts and lines tipped with arrows? Good guidelines. Good starting points. Good ideas about how all of this will — eventually — fit together. But none of this is specified in a way that “It has to be done this way.” That’s not part of this week’s Aries ideas and not part of the vocabulary. Try, “It might be better if we do it this way,” rather than an absolute. Following the guidelines makes this all go together that much easier.
I was laboriously deleting files on a device, a single file at a time, when I noticed, the most recent update, it had a new option, a thing that looked like a check mark. I tapped on that, and it offered a way to select multiple files. I could delete a whole month at a time, not just an individual file. I understand that this, in itself, is not a remarkable discovery, but this, in itself, was a remarkable time-saver for me, and this feature, that I’m mentioning? It wasn’t present in the earlier version of the software. Old-school was delete one file at a time. Part of this about a voyage of discovery. Part of this is looking at what’s right there, plain as day, right in front of our Taurus selves. Part of this willingness to be more open. If it seems like an arduous task? I’ll bet some software person someplace has come up with an easier answer, a solution, a way to cut out the steps. In my example, latest rev. of software? It was a “select multiple” checkbox. Really simple. Solved a number of otherwise time-consuming issues. I’m not saying life is as simple as a new software feature, but there is a chance that Taurus overlooked a simple solution. Once Mars moves away from Uranus? Look for that simpler solution. Don’t over-think this one.
Horror writers make money off weeks like this. So if you’re in the process of working on a horror story or script, or even just on the set? Then, sure, this is great material, and you’re ripe with the ideas that are truly frightening. However, the rest of you guys? This dark, discordant, macabre, mordant material is merely a passing fantasy. A dark fantasy, probably, a violent and possibly scary one, but a fantasy nonetheless. It will all be a dream, and in the end, the material will all get washed away, unless, of course, you do something to take note of it. Otherwise it all vanishes — like a dream. Understanding that this is merely a Gemini version of “worst case scenario” material? Might help a good Gemini prepare. None of this should be terminally bad. None of this should be awful. Most this isn’t that bad, at all. Most of this is a figment of the virulent subconscious mind of the Sign of the Twins. Most of this. Maybe all of it? Maybe most of it is just scary but not really going to be that bad? Way it looks to me, check back in another few weeks. All better.
There’s an expression I admonish most of my clients to avoid. Starts out something like this, “Where do you see our relationship going?” In the olden days, frankly sexist, this was typically a female asking a male. In more modern times, though, I’m less worried about the sexist part and would prefer this to be gender-neutral. Besides, I’ve seen guys do this, too, way too soon, “Where do you see this relationship going?” First date, “Do you think we could live together?” Then there’s the Moon Child woman, like the namesake, gently crab-walking away. Seen it happen. So this week introduces a situation wherein the most common expression of the energy? It’s that comment, way too soon, a premature conjecture. Instead of jumping in and opening the Cancer mouth too soon? Watch that, watch that eagerness, watch that ability to think that we can see where this is going, have to wait and let everyone else catch up to our pace. It’s a great thought, but maybe we don’t want to the give that thought voice this next few days. Just a suggestion.
Stop. Stop what you’re doing right now. Stop whatever it is that seems most important to The Leo, whatever action you’re taking, whatever it is that you got going on, whatever that is? Stop. Look around. There’s someone right near you, beside you, behind you, in front of you, there’s someone you can help. Help that person. One of my majestic Leo buddies? He was wonderful in this exact context. I had a little problem and without making me feel really stupid, he reversed the polarity and everything worked just fine. “Red wire usually works best if it’s attached to the red terminal.” All he did was pause, look over his reading glasses, fiddle with it, and instead of making me feel really, really stupid, he kindly suggested an alternative that worked just fine. The trick? Oh mighty and gracious Leo? The trick? Don’t make us feel stupid. Pretend like you’re just as baffled as us. But do, please, we need some help and most of us are afraid to ask The Leo for any assistance.
Trying to explain my fascination with Shakespeare to a professional, in a certain kind of setting? I tried to come up with quick ways, a verbal shorthand, to get information across quickly. “I’m not a real scholar,” I explained, “more like a fan boy, except.” “Except?” “Well, I don’t have action figures or other collectibles, or limited edition playing cards. Not many books, either.” For a while, I had a collection of printed programs from various venues, having seen some of the plays on stage. Besides, with Shakespeare’s works, the bulk of it is drama, and it is meant to be performed. Not read as a text, and not studied as literature. That brief, to me concise, example of my level of ardent attachment “no action figures,” covered what I wanted covered in a modern way of understanding. Virgo is faced with encapsulating a great deal of data into a simple format. Simple, easy-to-understand style. The message, it varies from individual to individual, but the format? That’s clear: not a long-winded, convoluted, version of various data-points, but a simple metaphor to give as an example. Simple. Easy to grasp the concept.
I’ve done this pitch so many times, it’s about a short form of self-expression. In its first iteration, Twitter was limited to 140 characters. That single limitation forced an economy of message. The simple missive for Libra is about that same kind of “economy of missive,” like a shortened form of whatever it is your sweet Libra self is trying to communicate. Another example of this is the time I suggested the horoscopes all be done in haiku. Noble pursuit. Not going to happen. I’m way too windy for such a form. But as the Sun and its adherents, notably Mercury, Moon, Mars all do their ‘thang,’ we have the two bigger planets, doing what they do, stirring the mess up, and the results? Short form. Whether this is only communicating in short, declarative sentences, or a simple statements, or eschewing excess wording, the idea is to use the short form — and that self-imposed limit of 140 characters, like old-school Twitter? That’s as good a guideline for this week as any.
Numbering systems, this is about numbering systems. When I first got serious with looking at Shakespeare stuff, I learned, academically, there was only one way to show the reference point: Act (Capital Roman Numeral); Scene (lower case Roman numeral); line number(s) (Arabic numbers). For example, this week’s opening quote from a legal thriller? It should read, in parentheses, (I.ii.39-41). That’s the way it was ground into my head, that’s the way I learned, and that’s the most common form I use. But I’m not limited to just that as a way to show the exact point of reference. Sometimes, like at the top of this week’s set of horoscopes, I just use Arabic Numbers, plain and simple. It was shorthand, and it is an accepted method in some circles. To confuse matters, though, there’s one other fairly common form of numbering Shakespeare lines in plays: the actual line number. The opening line is #1, and from there, it’s the three or four thousand lines that make up a play. I don’t have a ready example of that because I don’t use it, but one noted scholar prefers such numbering. When I started this Scorpio scope, I was thinking about the various ways to reach the same conclusion. Because there are so many variations within Shakespeare’s works, exact line numbers don’t always work, but certainly the numbers can land us close enough. With the tension from Taurus and Aquarius, there’s an exactitude that Scorpio craves. Don’t bet on it. We’ll get close, but we might not wind up in the exact spot intended. Close, like I’ll get your Scorpio self to the act and scene, and approximate line number. After that? Hey, we’re close. That counts.
Times like this take two tries. I’m no handyman, and I know it. If it involves a screwdriver, and not much else? I’ll give it a shot. Or a hammer. Not a big hammer, just a light tap? Sure, I’m good for that, but that’s about it. I understand my strengths — and apparent weaknesses — when it comes to being a handyman. Times like this take two tries. Here’s the deal I have with myself, and the arrangement I have with the universe, and whatever else one wants to believe in, I’ll give it two tries. If I can’t accomplish the stated goal in two tries? Then I’m out. With all the tension in the fixed compartments of the heavens? With that kind of tension roaming freely around, what I’ve discovered, through long years of trial and error? Two tries is all it takes. If I can’t fix it in two tries? Then it’s time to call in an expert. The element at work is “Fixed,” as in fixity, not as in “fix it ourselves.” There’s a stubborn, resolute sense to this, and when we encounter obstacles, and we will, and when we think, and we will, “I can fix this this?” Give it two tries. Hammer. Screwdriver, just two taps, or tries, or whatever. I understand we characteristically would usually sit there and bang away all day, but not this time. Two tries, then drop it. Either call an expert, or leave it until this “fixed” energy fixes itself.
Test, then evaluate the results, then make an adjustment. Then test again. The biggest issue with too many of my Capricorn buddies is that they test, evaluate then go back to what was working before. Or sort of working, or wasn’t really adjusted as much as it could’ve been, and why bother to change something when we can limp along with things the way they are? I’m the first to agree that change for the sake change, that isn’t the most efficient route to take, but looking at the results of a test? Then adjusting as need be to make it work a little better? It’s like minor adjustments to make a motor run more smoothly. Or minor adjustments to extract higher performance — and when the metaphor isn’t clear? The motor, what needs to be tested, or otherwise adjusted? That’s the Capricorn. Test. Evaluate. Adjust as need be. Then test again.