Cleopatra:
“And there is nothing left remarkable
Beneath the visiting moon.”
Shakespeare’s Antony & Cleopatra (IV.xv.168)
Horoscopes for 6-24-2025
- Mars into Vir. 6/17
- Sun into Cancer 11:42 PM 6/20
- New Moon 4° Can. 6/25
- Mercury into Leo 6/26
Horoscopes for 6-24-2025
Cancer
The way I pick introductory quotes, the way I gather new information? Varies, but in this week’s example? I was reading a vaguely academic text with Shakespeare scholarship contained therein, and I happened across a discussion of the Cleopatra character, from Shakespeare’s play, Antony & Cleopatra. It included the quote, maybe another line, as well, but then, I had to go and look it up in my online version of the play’s script. Context, act number, location, meaning, then the title of the play itself, The Tragedy of Antony and Cleopatra, presented as “history,” with a knowing nod to modern audiences that it is probably more myth than valid history. All of that for a two short lines of poetry? The Moon goes dark, then the first sliver of a new moon, and then grows towards that first quarter moon. The moon’s just visiting, and things change. Happy solstice. Happy birthday. Gets good. Gets weird, too, but hey?
The Leo
The time-worn expression that I use? “Let me pencil it in.” That implies, a pencil, pencil lead, a paper calendar, and an arrangement where I can shift, change or erase the appointment that’s been “penciled in.” This is about how The Magnificent Leo manages time. On a larger scale, it’s about budgets, allocations, and managing resources, but for the moment? Let’s think of this in terms of budgeting time. Budgeting Leo Time which is valued greater than regular time.
There are number of pieces pushing and pulling on you. In the very distant past, I used a loose-leaf paper calendar “datebook,” first to keep track of academic deadlines, then to track business appointments, and finally, to track readings. With the advent of the technology, and the factory settings that were “good enough,” I switched over to an electronic datebook. Still, when corresponding, even to this day, I religiously use the phrase, “Pencil you in” rather than any other phrase because it’s a luck thing. Write it in ink? We’ll have to change. “Pencil it in?” That works fine. The point to remember, dear Leo, is that the time management situation should be fluid, not engraved in stone. Or even written in ink.
Virgo
From a moment of brain fog, I grabbed my own text to look up what Mr. Mars is all about. I glanced at what a younger version of myself had written, and I found that it applied, even more so, at a time like this. The take-sway when I was addressing Mars in a conjunction with the natal Sun? It was “Watch out for sharp objects,” and similar allegorical responses. Then, almost as a footnote, it was about not hurting friends and family, as well. When I looked at the actual charts for the days ahead in Virgo-land? There was pause, and I realized the most dangerous part of this location of Mars, played to against what’s already in the heavens at the moment? It’s that tendency to expect a bit much from friends and family, or, business associates. People, in general, expecting too much from them. It’s an unrealistic expectation for Virgo to expect others care, and act as if they care, as much as you do. Which then, we drop in satire that quickly becomes sarcasm, which then turns caustic. It’s Mars. Watch it with the acerbic, wonderful Virgo wit. Some people will find that more hurtful and less funny.
Libra
Used it before, and I’ll use it again. Buddy’s kid came up with perfect, infectious comment. “It’s my favorite season: fireworks stands!” That’s the fun part, at least, for me. The problem, the very Libra-like challenges ahead? It’s that same kid in the street, out front, setting off individual firecrackers. Not addressing the legality of his action. Not addressing the moral turpitude, or questionable parenting skills. I think it’s fun, if a little jarring, and therein is the very Libra-like challenge for the next week, maybe ten days? It’s that kid with a stray firecracker. It’s the odd and jarring loud noise where one doesn’t expect it. It’s that little auditory splash of color that might not really be that welcome. Can’t fault the child for exuberance, but the element of surprise isn’t always really welcome in Libra. What to watch for? That auditory splash of color.
Scorpio
“But I’m one of the good ones,” she empathically pleaded with me. Sure you are. It’s an old tale, about the fixed nature of the watery Scorpio psyche, and the way that Scorpio personality tries to emulate the archetype for the Phoneix, the firebird rising from the ashes. There’s an almost cartoon-like image for that firebird, not unlike the emblem for a dated American muscle car, same name, but what’s missing from the logo? That Scorpio phoenix has a long tail, like a dragon? That long tail has a spike on the end. To the non-Scorpio, we must realize that the spike at the end of the tail is no different from the typical Scorpion’s stinger. To the Scorpio, pleading peace and calm? “But I’m one of the good ones?” Careful with that spiked tail. It can still cause pain for you — and others.
Sagittarius
It’s about patterns and processes. For some years, I let the tools define the work I did, but in other examples, I let the work define the tools I use. In my most recent examples, and this from the last thirty years or so, there’s a mix where the work is defined by the tools, and the tools define the work. Makes for an interesting question, sort of an updated, “Chicken & Egg” question. Something to consider, do the tools define the work, or does the work choose the right tools? The old saw? “If you’re a hammer, every problem looks like a nail.”
Capricorn
I’ve tended, over the years, to use whatever scraps of paper are at hand to scratch down ideas. Spurious notes, ideas, a fact I want to verify, a claim that might — or might not — be true? A name, a number, obviously, a birthday. My own handwriting is poor, at best, and then, there’s the astrology glyphs that I use as a short form to convey buckets of data. Sometimes, it works, and sometimes, it doesn’t. I had a Mercury symbol on the back of a business card, obviously a cryptic note to myself. With no other context, though, there was no way to recall what it was. I flipped the card over, looked, and I realized there were no supporting, pointing clues. Just a hastily drawn symbol, and Mercury — the planet — the alchemical symbol? It looks just like the symbol for Venus, a circle with a cross coming out of the bottom, and then, two little antenna, or horns, pointing upwards. For Capricorn, this means you’re the catalyst. You’re standing next to someone, and there’s a great revelation. I think that’s what it meant, I’m not sure. It was a good note to myself.
Aquarius
Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Mercury, Neptune, all of these are planets that play against the location of Pluto, either a dwarf planet or — what-ever. Not getting into the Pluto planet or other debate. In the next few days, each of those planets make strange little gestures at the placement of Pluto. What this means, more succinctly, as if I could be more concise? While it’s Mercury that opposes Pluto, the rest of these are lesser angles, and therefore, less of a notable influence, but felt, nonetheless. To some, this is about sweeping changes that are not entirely congruent with current practices. The temptation I would warn about? Careful about those sweeping changes. Instead of a dramatic gesture akin to “Burn this place to the ground,” instead of the grand moments, using those little planet as they incline and gently coerce directional changes? Little changes. Tiny, even minuscule moves are better. Little steps towards a carefully considered destination rather than wholesale, sweeping gestures. Lacking in theatre, the small adjustments effect lasting change.
Pisces
“Gardening” is the easiest example I have for gentle Pisces. Or not-so-gentle Pisces — according to more than one respondent. From even before my days of trailer parks, I’ve been an active “container” type of gardner. It’s easiest, for me, requires the least amount of effort, for me, and I can move material around as need be. There’s a spot, in the middle of the summer, like now, where the sun is bright and overhead most of the day, so I can move the littler pots around to get maximum sun. Likewise, instead of big, grand changes in Pisces? Think along the lines of gardening, or better, in my own personal example, while I call it “gardening,” it’s really just container farming. Growing stuff in small pots. Makes it easier to adjust as need be, and the adjustments, even now, they are minor, just push that one where it gets more light — for now.
Aries
I have been branded as “elite,” but my old favorite is still “boutique.” Neither naming device caught much traction so I dropped the ideas. Just because an idea tickles me? That doesn’t mean it sells well across the various avenues of broader Aries consumption. Just because Aries hits on the perfect naming convention, the perfect handle for one’s own self, the most apt description of what you are, or what it is that you do, or what the situation is? That doesn’t mean it sells well. Money doesn’t mean everything, but as a test of whether an idea is viable — or not? The quickest test that I see is “What sells?” It’s a simple test. Does this generate some income? Does this idea attract customers who are willing to part with hard-earned cash? It’s a simple, too simple, way to see the problems, and the original question, “Just because I think it’s a good idea, does that mean that it is valid?” (Hint: Boutique Astrology never caught on, despite the definition being so clear.)
Taurus
Presented as apocryphal factoid? I wasn’t able to thoroughly vet and fact-check, but what I gathered from dubious sources? The “Average American” uses three or four curse worlds every day. Think of it like pepper in a conversation, poignant points of punctuation. Just little pointers. Three or four, in a day. Between you, me, and the unknown? If that’s three or four curse words for an average person? That means, in the given afternoon, and like this week in Taurus land? I’m way above average. The little factoid itself? I wasn’t able to get a viable source, and while it is presented as a truism, remember, this could be hearsay evidence, with no corroborating data to support the statement. Which leads us to the point where we go above the average, one more time, and let loose with a few choice expressions. Look on the up side to this, in doing so? You’re now above average.
Gemini
Going through some older material, I happened across a decades’ old piece of criticism. More to my own amusement, but some of the critique did shape the way I worked, moving forward. I listened, or read the critique, which was nothing more than an addled soul blaming me for their desperate straits, but I did adapt, change, and make a course correction on my own. Did it rattle my own soul? Sure, always does. But separating the fact from the friction helped. What could I fix? What was my part? What could I do better to serve the usual customers? Not all criticism is valid, and some is just plain mean-spirited, which is less about the content, and more about the sender. This isn’t about a critique of Gemini, nor is it a stab at the Gemini heart. It’s about a certain willingness to adapt, change, and correct what does — or doesn’t — work. Stick with what works — stick with what works for your Gemini self, no matter what the unwashed pundits might be saying. It’s all right to listen to the critique, just don’t take it to heart, well, unless, you know, if they really are correct. But? You’re Gemini, so, there is that.