Horoscopes for 6-10-2025

Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet.

Horatio:
He waxes desperate with imagination.

Marcellus:
Let’s follow. ’Tis not fit thus to obey him.

Horatio:
Have after. To what issue will this come?

Marcellus:
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

Horatio:
Heaven will direct it.

Marcellus:
Nay, let’s follow him.

Exeunt.

Shakespeare’s Hamlet (I.iv.88-91)

Horoscopes for 6-10-2025

• Full Moon 20°39’ Gem./Sag. 6/11
• Mars into Vir. 6/17

See also astrofish.net/travel for the latest.

Gemini

I was picking my sister up at the airport. Big airport. Big airport with paid admission. I checked her flight when it left, allowed for traffic, and arrived just as she had collected her baggage and was headed out the door. Sweltering summer temps, her laconic California flower-like essence was drooping, but she walked out, and stepped right up to the car. Tossed her luggage in the back, and we were gone through the myriad of maze-like structures that constitute the exit of that airport. I am always reminded, “It doesn’t matter if your destination is Heaven or Hell, you will connect through Dallas.” (Kinky F. about DFW.) It was smooth, so far which means? Pull up to the exit gate, and automated toll set-up, and not having a car with tag? I just ease into the first cash/credit lane. Looked like it was moving fast. Two vehicles in front? I see a driver in the cab of a pick-up, throw his hands in the air. The toll-tag lines are scooting along. The cash line is moving, slowly, but inching forward. The other credit lines on either side of us are moving. The truck in front of me, and behind the stationary truck, that driver taps his horn. Nothing appears to happen. “I think he’s digging around the glove box,” my Sister says. I was thinking, it was too smooth, our luck with traffic, airport timing, all of that was too easy, too on-schedule, too according-to-plan. “I’ve been practicing some zen, so this doesn’t bother me,” my Gemini sister said, then twisted around in her seat, “think you could back up and get in the other lane? What is this taking so long? How hard is it to have a credit card for the reader? You got your ticket? Do you want some cash? Why is this taking so long?”

“I’m not in any hurry, but can you go faster?

There it is, Gemini.

Cancer

This breaks two ways, pretty evenly. One, the most common? “I can’t sleep at night.” But it does have companion, “I’m sleeping, like, way more than usual.” What this is about? Dream-land. The Cancer, Moon Children, Sign of the Crab dreams. The subconscious, the land of the unknown and?

Dreams? The land of the unknown. Some dreams are wild prophetic. I’ve had those. Some dreams are largely nightmarish. I’ve had those. Some dreams are pure whimsy and fantasy, those too. What’s it going to be? If you wake up, roll over and jot down a note as to what it was. Lets see if it is the prophet, the oracle, or just weird notion from the Cancer subconscious, working its way out. Best expression? “Wow, listen to this.”

The Leo

Right after the Full Moon, sort of tag along? Mars (in Leo) squares Uranus (in Taurus), and while this is but a few days that this occurs? It’s lingering thump to the side of the head, in a metaphorical sense I hope, which means one must look at the old stuff in new light. Or use old light to look at new stuff. Either way, it’s very indirect new direction. Hits sideways. That’s not bad, just different — lands differently.

Virgo

One problem I have? I refuse to get caught up in the moment, with the whatever the astrological emergency tends to be. An early teacher was a doomsday person. “This is very bad,” he would intone in the most stentorian voice. The Full Moon trips a Virgo trigger, and that rolls on into the days afterwards. It’s not bad, just uncomfortable, and not just for your Virgo self, but for a lot of us. Therefore? That prognostication, “This is very bad” doesn’t hold up well. Never can go wrong predicting doom and gloom, but there are few other options. This about a clean-up action, a gentle kind of tidying of material. Sometimes, and I’ve alluded to this before, and while it looks like busy work to some? Just relocating the material that needs to be addressed, like, I’ll pick up three stacks of receipts that need to be entered, not doing anything more than putting them all together in a single new place. “All you did was take that stack, and add it to another stack, then just move it closer to the desk.” Take what progress we can, right?

Libra

I don’t know what the upper limit is, but I tend to try and not check out too many digital library books at one time. I can only read a single novel, in the moment, but I try to keep two or three handy. I’ll get to the scary part of some book, and not want to read that, not late at night. So I like have several copies of something to read, not all thriller or horror, maybe some ancillary Shakespeare material, or perhaps other material. Never can tell. For a spell, re-interpretations of older philosophical treatise caught my attention. Varies. The point is to have more than one on hand to read. The trick, for me, is to keep that “inbound,” and “To Be Read” stack at a manageable level. Therein is the Libra success secret. “Manageable level,” operative phrase. For me? I try to keep no more than three or four library books on hand. Two weeks is usually enough time to read a book, and if I’m not interested, or don’t get around to it? After it checks itself back in, I can grab it again. It’s easy, but I like to think, I’m not hogging any particular text too long, because, we must remember to share, right, Libra?

Scorpio

I remember reading one of a favored author’s last works. It was a novel, and it kept true to form, and the world play was exquisite, a master at top of his form. I didn’t realize, until much later, that was an extended set of metaphors. More myth and mystery, exploring end-of-life scenarios, and less about the action/adventure I was used to. The change was interesting in that I quickly dismissed the novel, early on, only to find myself drawn back to it, in later years, wondering, the author no longer around, so I can’t just send a query, about the meaning, and the direction. Or what the symbolism really meant to the author, at the time. What it means to me, and how I interpret it? That’s personal. But it is symbolic, and does indicate change is afoot. Takes time. Likewise, if the analogy is none too clear, for Scorpio? The Full Moon and its fallout? It’s symbolic, a gesture, and represents some turning point for the Scorpio mind. How you interpret that?

Sagittarius

The Full Moon is fun, in Sagittarius, but realistically, more along a Sagittarius/Gemini axis. One place I lived in Austin? It was an older apartment, from a certain era. The wiring in it was aluminum. I’m not much with construction trades, but there are two take-away points: 1. The Aluminum Wiring was quickly discontinued because of fire hazards, and 2. in that apartment? I had exercise caution so as to not overload any individual electrical outlet. This was the old days, think desktop computers with CRT monitors, big, hulking things that generated a lot of heat, and probably drew down a lot of power. I don’t know. It was a long time ago. I was recently plugging in a charger, and I thought that a power strip would be a good idea, but then I thought about overloading the wires, drawing too much juice in one place. In the “bad old day,” that was problem. Is it still a problem? Full Moon? Might not want to chance it this next week, don’t overload that Sagittarius power supply.

Capricorn

It’s the “Bar Graph.” On a vertical axis along the left side? Data points, questions, options. Running as horizontal lines towards the right? Representing containers of data? Bars that suggest one or another discrete points of data. It’s a simple bar graph. I’ve seen it done both horizontal and vertical, but the way is as thinking, the horizontal version works best. it’’s about organizing information in simple, flat, useful manner that your Capricorn self can use. Simple. Flat. Visually easy to grasp, and to think that’s the biggest clue, the visual component that makes it so much simpler. It’s a linear function. Think about how to wrap up the complex data sets and incoming points of information, think about how that can be displayed as a simple bar graph. “This one is good, but this one has more (something); therefore, this one might be better.” Why? You can see it illustrated, why it might be better. Bar graph that answer.

Aquarius

It’s nice to fly under the radar. While I seriously doubt I’ll ever be flying a plane, for real, I do like being the one that gets overlooked, and often as not, underestimated. The term? “Flying under the radar.” Overlooked, unseen, and as a companion? Underestimated. Once we’re done with that Full Moon in Gemini? Once that’s behind us? Consider that incognito look, the stealth appearance, or better yet? Just flying under the radar, such as it is. Was. As an expression, it suggests undetected forward motion, and that’s what this holds, if your Aquarius self can abide with the idea of undetected, and probably not recognized in the moment. With what’s going on? Maybe it’s not such a bad idea, to circumvent being too noticeable, and making it appear like you’re not really doing anything, flying under the radar, as it were. Try it.

Pisces

Coming out of an evening gathering, just at sunset, I was looking westward, kind of the top of a small hill, and I was straining to see the first the planet appear in the growing twilight. “Jupiter should be right on the horizon, maybe too low,” I said, “but Mercury, and look, there’s Mars.” The guy standing next to me looked, looked at me, “Are you sure it’s not a plane?” I shrugged. I was pretty sure it was on the ecliptic, and confident enough in my observations to be pretty sure, but I’m not Pisces. However, as a Pisces person yourself, there’s a kind of assured wisdom you’re starting to understand. It’s the ability to know stuff, whether it’s true or not, ahead of the rest of us. Feelings, sentiments, subconscious, or even white-bread intuition, call it what you want. All of that has sharpened up, recently. The problem? The Pisces problem? Not everyone gets that you get it, and not everyone understands that you understand, and not everyone will appreciate your razor-sharp insight. Being loudest doesn’t mean you’re right. No need to push it; time is one your side.

Aries

There are portions of my life that are — records aren’t too good. Easiest way to suggest it. Not really sure what happened when. I can guess at years, and base a few observations off of where I was at certain times, but there are scant records kept for a lot of this material. What I’m stuck with are memories, and we all know, my memory is porous, at best. Couple of my fishing buddies share my inability to recall exactly facts, like, “That time you got the biggest fish?” Or some spontaneous recollection of wild action in old Austin town that might, or might not, be true. “If the police don’t have a record of it? No harm, no foul.” We’re entering a time, a fairly extended period, one of great spiritual enlightenment for perspicacious Aries, but for the unaware? The best solution is some kind of written record. As a writer, I think that writing, something as simple as a journal, I figure that’s best. But that’s me. Your version of record-keeping might be different. Can be painting, sketching, pen and ink, or any other kind of recordable media. I would prefer, though, that this be a media that is tangible — can be converted to digital — but it’s hard copy, first.

Taurus

There are two pieces of popular iconography from Shakespeare’s Hamlet, one of the skull scene near the end, but in my mind, the whole play, or most of it, gets set up with the ghost on the castle’s wall. The two scenes echo each other, goods of the dead, the will of the living, and foreshadowing that something isn’t going to end well. Its real title is the Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark — gives it away that there is no happy ending to this one. I’ve seen the ghost played a number of way, from a disembodied voice to an actor in ghostly garb, from a special-effects goblin-head floating in space, to a tired old man in wraith-like rags. The ghosts are present even now, in Taurus. What we do with their spectral qualities is up to the individual, and how to handle the ghostly commands? Again, up to the individual Taurus, but a thought? I would concentrate on the next few days as a time well-spent identifying the source of the complaint, the source of that smell. “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.” But just what is it?