Horoscopes for Taurus 2022
“There is no virtue like necessity.”
- John of Gaunt in Shakespeare’s King Richard II (1.3.278)
The Sun enters the Tropical Zodiac sign of Taurus April 19, 9:25 PM. Mercury is Retrograde from May 10 (4° Taurus) until June 2 (26° Gemini). Venus enters Aries May 3. Jupiter moves into Aries May 10.
- Full Moon — 28° Aries/Libra — April 16; New Moon — 10° Taurus — April 30; Full Moon — 25° Taurus/Scorpio — April 16.
- The Sun enters the Gemini on May 20, 2022 — conjunct the retrograde Mercury.
Snarky comment, “Yeah, no virtue like necessity.” Get the skinny from Shakespeare?
The Sun moves in Gemini May 20, 2020.
Easter Sale coming up!
Horoscopes for Taurus 2022
One of the visually appealing, social media sites had a section dedicated to graphic images of Shakespeare’s plays programs’ images. It was about possibilities, not actual programs used by various theatre companies, just ideas. It was appealing to me, as it was a way a graphic artist could demonstrate skills, ideas, and interpretations, of a particular Shakespeare play. I’ve always loved the work with the Hamlet, usually a skull, a crown, and dripping blood. Against a bold red background? The ideas are enormous, and what was fetching about those various illustrations, the simple set of images yet strong and bold, and frankly evocative, at least to me. Likewise, this Taurus quote is from Richard II old Gaunt at the end of the scene. All about teaching us what we need — bad luck? Suddenly I’m virtuous. The images for the play, Richard II, tend to be crowns slipping on the side, and while there is murder and mayhem, it’s an almost bloodless coup. Great play, seen before. The notion, and let’s look at the coming few weeks for Taurus, but in the coming few weeks? Nothing like a little enforced virtue. “I’m glad you’re doing the right thing.” Yeah, well, what choice did I have after all, “There is no virtue like necessity.”
I was walking across a ballroom floor, in a hotel. One friend was messing with sound inputs and cranked up the classic, “Billie Jean” as performed by Michael Jackson. Classic tunes, and one that infects a certain generation with a desire to move. I realized, as the tune started, that I had but one option, and it really wasn’t much of choice. I spun around and did a very bad job of moonwalking backwards. Dear sweet lord, is that song 40 years old? Looks bad. The point was, is it possible for that song to come on, and not have one, or more, people try and “Moonwalk?” One behavioralist will chime in with a comment about “State-dependent learning,” but that’s above my pay. The notion is, with the planets thusly arrayed, what Gemini can watch for? Those little triggers. In my example, it was a song, and for me, just a snippet of a song, and all I did was a ham-fisted approach to a dated dance move that looked silly. Not like I need any help whatsoever in looking silly, and to some, it looked like I was just smiling at my buddy, walking backwards. Mercury is a player here, and Mercury dredges up long-forgotten memories. The dance move, á la “Bille Jean,” and so forth? It’s a motion where it looks like one is walking backwards and a perfect way to illustrate the way Taurus plays out for Gemini. A song comes on and there you are, trying to imitate an action. I just hope you’re better at that I was. At least I got a laugh and a giggle.
There’s a kind of wholesale dumping of old stuff that is really quite tempting. The downturn, the panic, the war, the way things are? Just motor off and leave it all behind. I was fishing, the other afternoon, and I pulled on a shirt, a very specific fishing shirt, one I hadn’t worn in some time. Reaching into a pocket, I felt something, and it was obvious, whatever it was? It had been through the wash. I opened the flap on the pocket and there was some specialty fishing line. I’d broken off the last dozen feet of this stuff, a braided line, since it was nicked, and starting to weaken, and rather than toss it overboard, I just wadded it up and slipped it into a pocket. Don’t litter. However, that’s not the message, not really. It’s about digging around and finding something left behind. That was a memory of a great day on the water. We were too busy catching fish to mess around with tackle. It was a good problem. The spring fishing was little less successful, not that it wasn’t great to be on the water, but when Mercury is retrograde, seems like the fish are more reluctant to play. That memento in my pocket reminded me of time when the fish were more fun. Still, a day on the water is better than in an office. A day at the lake, the beach, the bay? Still better than four walls and a keyboard. All a matter of perspective. That line, different kind of arrangement for fishing, but that line was reminder. Touchstone, in essence? Which everything coming undone? We might need just such a reminder. What this season is about, a gentle reminder.
Make peace. Find common ground. While I’ll agree that your essential Leo self is 100% correct, what I fear? I might be the singular voice agreeing with you about that issue. Doesn’t make me wrong. Doesn’t make your Leo self wrong, either. It’s just the numbers are against the two of us. Going to be a long month, and the trouble is Taurus — as it is a fixed sign, too, like The Leo, and depends on who is in front of me, but I’ll suggest both are, possibly, the most stubborn of signs. While I would prefer to use the term “tenacious,” instead of the more negative phrasing, yeah, you get it. The energy comes face-to-face, hand-to-hand, or “cheek-by-jowl” with a right and righteous Leo, only, no one else seems to see it our way. Herein is the problem and the confounding elements, with Mercury headed into disarray, and starting its errant path in position none-too-comfortable for The Leo. As Taurus waxes and wanes, and as Mr. Mercury creates minor turmoils, the easiest course of Leo action is nothing. Do not do a thing. Lift no paw to engage, alleviate, mediate, or otherwise get involved, as this tends to blow back, and not always in a kind way. Nothing. Great month to pause, reflect, and watch the world go by, as much as possible. Hint: “I’ll get to it,” is the perfect springtime expression. Notice: there’s timeline on when we’ll get to it. You got that money for me, now?
It’s all about reasonable expectations. Problem being, as the representative Virgo suggested, any expectation — by its very nature — would be unreasonable. “It’s to be expected!” I don’t get it. However, as the season of Taurus progresses, there’s one, after another, of expectations — Virgo expectations — that are shattered. Typically, it starts with an expression, “All I wanted was…” and it doesn’t matter what it was that the Virgo was expecting, that won’t be achieved. I can’t win, and you can’t win, either. Lowered expectations are helpful. No expectations are even better. “It’s all bad?” No, but it’s not a good time, either. Most of this can be pinned on Mercury’s aberrant behavior, but some of it is more from thinking about it too much, or hoping that the kindness of strangers will prevail, or having any kind of silly notion that humanity will behave in a humane manner. It’s not about expecting the worst, but, as an astrologer, what I suggest is being prepared. I have a plan. I have a back-up plan. That back-up plan? It forks, as well, with at least two other back-up to back-up plans, just to be safe. Possibilities. The future, this approaching few weeks? Fraught with possibilities. Just plan to have a back-up plan in place, and then, perhaps, a plan to back-up the back-up plan, just in case. Amenable and flexible. “But I’m always flexible,” except when you’re not, and we’re back to be prepared for nothing to go in the order that you think it should. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t go like it is meant to, just not in the order that your Virgo sef expects it to go.
It was labeled, “Guatemalan Antigua…” just coffee from a thermos-like dispenser. However, as it cooled in the paper cup, and as I sipped it, I noticed a certain kind of creaminess to the coffee blend. Not as sharp, certainly not as acidic, and certainly not one of my over-roasted Spanish-roast usual flavors. It was a gamble in a shady spot, ostensibly a fishing place, on my way to catch a week’s worth of groceries. I just needed some coffee. While I’ve tried this kind of coffee bean in bulk, I never made the distinction, or understood the flavor. In part, it was my clear palate that morning. In part, it was the hot coffee cooled to the perfect sampling temperature. Might’ve been that I was happily headed to a new destination. Could be a number of contributing factors, I suppose. This plays out as a larger message for Libra in times of Taurus — and Mercury, &c. It’s about being aware of the little details, the minor, nuanced expressions, the subtle flavors that we’re too hurried to sense, too busy to see, or too flustered to feel. A simple pause, long enough to enjoy that coffee, or whatever, but a simple Libra pause let’s that flavor catch up, let’s that moment resolve, and once the feelings play out? We can move forward with alacrity.
In the post-modern era, the Console TV was “a thing.” A valid choice, too, as it suggested solid piece of furniture to support the heavy and cumbersome Cathode Ray Tube. Heavy and arcane, most definitely dated, I never had console TV. I did use an image on the cover of a booklet about Mercury Retrograde because, at the time, I was fascinated by a former TV repair shop getting all the material dumped out, on the street, to be hauled away. I always thought a console TV, maybe not with the TV or other entrainment material still in it, but with the appropriate dials and mechanical buttons on the front? Made from real American hardwood? Fascinating piece of historical furniture and glimpse into the hard lines of the sleek post modern world. I know, we don’t live like that anymore. Maybe a dozen years back I had an auntie who was forced to upgrade her TV when the old console went out. All I did was pick up a smaller “big screen” flat TV and pop it on top of her console. Worked fine. And while I could’ve claimed that console, eventually, as part of the estate owed to me, I opted to let some other family members gather it up, as they might enjoy it more. For me, this was example of out-dated-technology, and the old ways of handling furniture that might, or might not be currently applicable. Now pause, what does a console TV have to do with Scorpio in times of Taurus? It’s about using something old, possibly rather dated, and finding a new use for that old material. In my simple example, I used the images from the dead consoles as a way to illustrate Mercury Retrograde in principle. However, for Scorpio, what, and how you use it? That depends on the current situations, and what the demands are.
Water and Earth make mud. Simple equation, no? For our Sagittarius selves, that is the simple equation to remember, too. Water from Mars and Venus in Pisces with dirt component as the Sun course its way through Taurus. Water and Earth make mud. What it means, on a more Sagittarius-appropriate thematic level? Careful with the muddy emotional pieces in and around Mars and Venus, where, in my way of thinking, Mars is about the active principle in relationships with Venus being the passive part of this puzzle. Taurus is earth, but you knew that. The tension from Venus and Mars, as they pass through Pisces creates — perhaps — unwholesome attractions and attachments for our Sagittarius selves. Can be good, can be bad, can be very bad. Just, with Mercury where it is? Doing what it’s doing? That confounds and compound the problems. Successfully getting through this is simple, as long as no lasting bonds are formed, no documents signed that indicate this will be forever like this, and maybe, not making outrageous pledges. My favorite example? Early spring fishing, rolling out at 5 AM, before the sun was even up? My buddy, “I swear I will never, ever drink again.” Later that day? After — pictures on the web someplace — a good day on the bay? He’s cracking open a beer, “Maybe just one, or two.” See where this going? Water and Earth make mud, confused by Mercury in his understated (not quite) retrograde pattern.
As I understand it, duck eggs are healthier than chicken eggs. I don’t know, and I’m merely repeating material that’s been passed onto me. Veracity is not assured. But the poultry-like produce was supposed to be richer in nutrients, and lower in harmful stuff, like cholesterol. One buddy, his great idea was a side hustle selling duck eggs at a farmer’s market. Don’t know, never made it that far. I’m not totally sure, as I didn’t catch all the details, but he had a hard time getting his ducks in a row. He had a hen-house-like place, a semi-enclosed pond, and some ducklings. Before the ducks got to breeding age, he was already “Done with this duck (crap).” Apparently, when in a semi-enclosed place, there’s a lot duck crap, and it is wet, slippery, and smelly. The low coefficient of friction was the main concern, he slipped and fell in the pen — more than once. Think he sold the ducks, supposedly to another farmer, but I always suspected an outlaw (Asian) kitchen of some sort now offers tasty Moo-shoo duck. He was warned. He was told. He was advised that the duck-pond was the opposite of free money, more work than it was worth, health benefits aside. He never got any of the benefits, other than a rather fertile area by his pond. He learned — the hard way — ducks didn’t pay. He was warned. Capricorn: you were warned. You did it anyway. The promise of easy money and fame? My buddy? He slipped and fell into the piles of duck poo. It was an unholy mess. Apparently, much messier than chickens. Much.
With this particular month? Did you heed the warnings, Capricorn?
There’s a Roman author I favor for certain situations. Martial, and his Epigrams, now collected in 3 books. Or the way I have it, three of the Loeb Classics books. There’s a lot of material in there, and most of it just in-jokes. Meant something, the names and all, maybe close to two-thousand years back, but these days, some of that escapes us. However, there is a great deal that is funny, caustic, and, frankly crude. I think, the more I got my head wrapped around this, that Martial’s Epigrams are memes from Roman times. That whole “meme thing” isn’t new. Martial was a poet, and he made his living selling his little, snarky, sarcastic quips. If one isn’t careful, a number of his quips are really crude and offensive, and that reaches back through close to two-thousand years. The lasting effect of that kind of humor? Mars, Jupiter, and even a little tap from Venus? All of that pushes Aquarius ever forward. Mercury in her usual tricks? That will cause a problem. I’ll try and use some of Martial’s Epigrams from time to time, but this isn’t a time for them. I suppose, it would be possible, just to use the Latin version, but sooner or later, someone pops that into the translator software, and gets the gist of the commentary. It’s like swearing under one’s breath, only, someone has that super hearing device turned on and turned up. Predictably, these are not good results. Look: I love using off-color, mildly offensive material — I can offend whole sections of the population, and me, with nary a clue about my offense. But in this case, I’m not Aquarius, and therefore? Careful with the intellectually challenging, but possibly offensive material, like Martial’s Epigrams. Really, they were early Roman memes, which, again, suggests there’s really nothing new under the sun.
Over the years, I’ve sorted through thousands and thousands of dollars worth of fishing gear. As a Pisces, I hope you respect my attention to research, just for what works best for you. There’s a delicate point of balance that occurs, between what works, what’s most efficient to deploy, and what is easy to carry, with a cost/efficiency ratio baked into this equation, too. Price, performance, ease of use, portability, and most important? Effectiveness. First question, does it catch fish? Then I start looking at the other factors. Comes a point, we all reach this, and this is now in Pisces, where the easiest route is best. Look: this isn’t the latest, greatest, trickiest, most-cool, and expensive piece of tackle. This is about a tricky balance point. Mars takes everything in Pisces to a new level. However, that doesn’t mean that this requires new purchases, new gear, new stuff. Think about that tricky balance point, an ascending line with cost, and a descending line with usefulness. Hit that intersection. Hit that point where cost, ease, and usefulness all coincide. Mars means more time should be spent actively doing something. In my example, more time with a hook in the water rather than talking, shifting, shopping, looking online, and otherwise wasting time discussing techniques. The best technique? Go fish. Or, you know, whatever the chosen activity is, just go and do it. I’m here, trying to save you from spending money on fishing tackle, and I’m suggesting, this next few weeks of Taurus, what works for Pisces? Just getting out and using Mars to make things happen.
A side benefit of a liberal arts education, what I eventually wound up with? I had a pack of friends who had weird, twisted stories about everything, and I mean, everything. Needed an excuse? From various mythologies, to current pop literature, and with more than a smattering of psychology, sociology, and even some current music lyrics, all thrown together. I was considering this, trying to explain, one of my old school buddies, she had this theory about how and why stuff happened, like when you set something down — car keys are an easy example — and then, you charge off and forget where the keys are. “Did you look in the hall?” Yes, yes I did look in the hall, please. First place I looked, don’t you think? You know where this is going, don’t you? My buddy’s singular theory was that reality was created by a set of gnomes, and those people would build each moment, from a blank starting point.
“Scratch baked reality?”
Yeah, pretty much. More of a pet theory, born of the mind of an undergraduate with cascading issues, but it serves to illustrate what happens between Mercury, Venus, and Jupiter, all in this next window of time. “Did you look in the hall?” I really wish you would stop asking me, that’s the very first place I looked, since that’s where I usually leave them! I seriously doubt that little garden-gnome looking characters assemble every moment of my reality, from scratch. But at times like this, I’m at a loss to explain why, after a third trip to look in the hall, I found the car keys. Mercury. Mercury in Retrograde, eventually, sinking back towards Taurus, but not yet. Jupiter? Venus? Ever forward. “Did you look in the hall?” I know, you think that they weren’t there, and suddenly, they were. Maybe that theory about gnomes building Aries reality from scratch? Maybe that’s true, and they were just having a good laugh at your expense. Something to watch for, in the next couple of weeks.