The sun moves through the final degrees of Capricorn this week and enters bright, strange Aquarius on Sunday. This is a week to keep doing the hard work, a week to keep your eyes on the future and your feet on the ground. For now, it’s okay to stick to your schedule or follow the rules. The season for rebelliousness is coming, when nobody can contain your energy anymore, when nothing can stop the wildness of your love for the spinning, aching world.
It’s easy to feel that in order to be a steady and upright person, you must follow through on every idea you have, working it, kneading it, carrying it with you from morning to night. It’s easy to feel that to be taken seriously, to be seen as the smart person you are, you must learn to act in some different way: more muted, maybe, or more reserved. More like a rock and less like a flame. But this isn’t a week for becoming somebody else. Even when it’s hard to remember exactly who you are, you can remember what you value, and make your choices from there.
This week, don’t ignore the weight of your intentions, of your desires, of your commitments. Intentions aren’t everything, but as long as they’re courageous and true, they’re not nothing either. Other people can’t know every contour of your inner landscape, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t crucially, vitally important to you. What are your true intentions, and how are you letting them speak through you? How do you see them reflected back to you in the faces of the people you meet? How are they guiding your movement through a messy, unmapped world?
After setbacks and frustrations, after plans that didn’t turn out the way you expected, it can take a long time to remember the truth: that even now, you can do anything. You can still change direction, and all it takes is some determination. You can change how you spend your days, and all it takes is your time and your care.
You can move however you want to move, and speak however you want to speak — it’s not a question of your ability, just a matter of your commitments, and how you’ll choose to nurture and develop them.
You’ve lived long enough to know, more or less, how you move through the world, and how the world moves to meet you. You’ve lived long enough now that your body has accumulated its own history and developed its own quiet wisdom. There are memories that live in your head too, of course, but this is a week to acknowledge the ones that live in a deeper part of you, the ones that can’t quite be accessed by language. This week, slow down if you can. Pay attention to what your body is telling you. You’re allowed to trust the instincts you can’t explain.
It’s easy to imagine that doing the good and important work of making the world better is totally separate and distinct from having an enjoyable time here on earth. It’s easy to imagine your ethics at odds with your desire, your body at odds with itself. But this is a week for weaving yourself back together again. Don’t deprive yourself of joy out of some sense of responsibility. Don’t deprive yourself of the good hard work because you think it holds no possibility for happiness. The world holds connections and contradictions that can still surprise you. There are so many ways to live with love.
This week, the very thought of tenderness can feel unbearably corny or phony or trite — how can any genuine sweetness survive the world’s brutality? How can any gentleness be real, when so much of the gentleness you see looks like a façade, a coverup, a tool for avoiding real honesty? Still, this week, you might feel softness in yourself. You might feel a real tenderness that has somehow, in spite of it all, remained true. Remind yourself that the world can still hold softness that isn’t a front or a show, but a survival skill, the sign of a heart that’s still human.
It might sound too simple, too basic for words, but this is a week for reminding yourself that you don’t have to wait around forever. Of course you know this already, but it’s still so easy for your generous patience to morph into a heavy, oppressive inertia. This week, at least for now, if you aren’t getting what you need, don’t keep sending out signals and hoping somebody receives them. If you aren’t getting what you need, you can ask for it, or work toward it, or simply start moving to see what you can find.
When you remember that none of this, nothing at all, will last forever, an acid fear might strike you, but wait for a moment, and joy won’t be far behind it. There’s such a temptation to think that if you can only be clever enough, you’ll be able to set up structures that will carry you through the rest of your life. But everything will only keep moving, and this isn’t such a bad thing. It means that no sorrow can last forever, either.
It means that no trap can hold you, that no chain is unbreakable.
You’ll hear messages this week that it’s unethical and unacceptable ever to be wrong, or to take a real risk in public, or to take a step backwards. You’ll hear messages that the only acceptable motion is forward, that the only acceptable intellectual mode is certainty. This is a week to reassert, even if it’s only to yourself, your right to make a mistake. And it’s a week to nurture and protect the things — your critical eye, your brave honesty, your friendships with people who tell you the truth — that will save you when you do.
This week, you can survive any challenges the world might throw in your path, and your power will only grow. Your energy will be brave and bright and steady; you can feel confident in your power and clear in your ambition. Sometimes, caution is a tool that can save your life, but this isn’t a week to spend any time tending to your fear. You don’t have to worry about avoiding the people who doubt you, or hiding from the unknown. If somebody tries to test you, you’ll pass. If somebody tries to question you, you’ll have all the answers you need.
There’s so much shimmering movement all around you that it’s understandably difficult, sometimes, to see your life clearly for what it is. There’s so much suffering all around you, and in the atmosphere itself, that it can be difficult to remember what’s normal, what’s acceptable, what’s right. This is a week for seeing, with more clarity than usual, all the cruelty and rottenness that you don’t deserve. There’s no awfulness that you’re required to quietly accept. There are no lies you’re required to peacefully swallow. You can say no, because nobody deserves that and neither do you.
What will you do with all the hunger that rises up in you, crashing about like the tides? What will you do with all the desire that rises up inside you like a fog, like a dream, like a memory? The desire for a better life or a better world than this one can become surprisingly physical, exhilarating, exhausting. If you lose your sense of direction and your sense of yourself in the middle of this sheer heady wanting, reach out for your history, or your routines, or your relationships, and they’ll call you back to yourself.