Mars has been retrograde since June, and on Monday, it finally stations direct again. If it’s felt like your sense of forward motion has been asleep, you might feel it slowly begin to awaken this week. You might feel your desires stirring, or an electric current turn on in your thoughts. You might wake up rested, refreshed, ready to move.
Lately, you’ve probably noticed that every ounce of your glowing energy has been needed just to keep it together, just to make it through the day. This week, though, the buzz in the air might feel a little less oppositional. Can you remember what it feels like to move with assurance, with ease? Maybe the world has softened. Maybe something sharp and clear inside you has just come back into focus.
Your powers of observation are sharp and certain, but sometimes this gift can become unwieldy. Sometimes, you have to choose not to notice details that are too painful, too strange, too bright. This week, try to be willing to see the full picture of your life — all the brilliant greens and golds, and all the ghosts too. You don’t have to be afraid of what all this knowledge might bring. There’s nothing strange enough to stop you, or turn you back again.
If you haven’t been getting the results you want, that doesn’t mean your whole outlook on the world has been wrong. This week, try letting yourself slow down, or else speed up, or else hold still, just for a moment, waiting. This is a week for imagining different patterns of movement and different modes of living. You don’t have to change yourself or your desires, but it might help to try new ways of moving through the world.
Nostalgia might come beckoning toward you, smelling sweet as honeysuckle, but you don’t have to settle for it. You don’t have to look behind you for good feelings. The past holds more than gentle, simple goodness, and the future is made of more than just darkness and thorns. Pay attention, and this week will offer glimpses of a future that’s imperfect but still filled with magic.
Think about how you’re expressing yourself this week — with force, or with precision, or with something altogether different? There are times for shouting and times for singing and times for saying nothing at all, for letting the sounds of the world wash over you like the tide, for waiting to speak until you’re ready. This week, pay attention to the love, or some anger, or some truth inside you that needs to be spoken. What do you really mean, and how can you say it?
It’s difficult sometimes to want so much, without always knowing what’s fair or what is possible. But this week is your time, it’s your own season, and you can see the world clearly enough to know what demands to make. This week’s gift isn’t that you’ll wake up to find the pieces of your life arranged in perfect, elegant order, but that you’ll know exactly what you’re looking for. The gift is that you can ask for what you need without guilt, without confusion, without any fear that your dreams are too big or too much.
You spend so much time searching outside yourself for answers — as though truth can only be found hidden among other people, as though it must be chased down, captured, mid-flight. You’ve moved through the world with attention and care, and you’ve gathered so much information already. Some truths do still live in the world outside you, but by now, you don’t need to keep searching for them. This is a week for looking to the feelings that live in your body, the stories you already know.
Sometimes, it’s useful to be contained — to be reminded of the edges of your body, the edges of your knowledge, the edges of the world as you know it. But this week, you can leave behind the walls that have held you in. You can step outside and close the door behind you. If you’ve been waiting to move ahead, if you’ve been waiting to let your desires finally bloom, this might be the time. You can move toward a quiet glow at the horizon. You can move toward a crack of light up ahead.
Maybe your bones will shift back into place this week; maybe your dreams will start making sense. Maybe you’ll wake up with the feeling of having made it through a very strange time, like you learned the lesson you needed. This is the feeling of a key change, it’s the feeling of morning fog lifting. Sometimes clarity is grand and bright, but this might be something simpler. Maybe you’ll just feel, finally, that you belong in your own life.
This week, your attention can bring luster and light to something that hadn’t seemed valuable before. The energy of your care and recognition can reveal the gleam in a surface you thought was dull, or show the depth of a person you didn’t see clearly. Paying attention to the world isn’t a passive act. This week, it’s an active and powerful bearer of love — a way of knowing the world.
It’s easy to imagine that clarity always feels like a cold winter morning, crisp and clear, the world made clean by ice. But this week, clarity can look like something different, something warmer, something in motion. This week, there’s wisdom not only in the sky, not only in a cold blue future, but in your own body too. There’s wisdom in your own sense of movement, one foot in front of the other. Here in the present, on the muddy earth.
Even if your heart sways and glows, even if the light in your dreams is gentle, the colors soft, that doesn’t have to mean this is a week for ambiguity. A hunger for softness doesn’t mean you’re weak, doesn’t mean you’re simple, doesn’t mean your voice lacks volume or clarity. The world might not see you clearly this week, but you can know the full truth of yourself — you can dream of goodness and love and still, there’s power in your bones. Still, you have a compass that points, unambiguously, north.
Read last week’s horoscope here. Next week’s will be here.