Monday’s full moon in Sagittarius might have your curiosity pinging, your brain and your words moving, your confidence alive and expansive. On Friday, the sun enters Cancer, and you might begin feeling a little quieter, a little more cautious, suddenly protective of the wildness and the treasures that live in your heart. This is a season to care for the people you love, and to receive their care for you.
It can feel corny or trivial to give yourself time to focus on beauty in the world. Even so, this is a week to allow yourself to spend some time in the presence of beautiful things. You can go to the museum, you can go to the forest, you can go to the market where the tomatoes are round and ripe. It hardly matters what, exactly, you do — the point is to give yourself permission to feed on something other than fire and noise and rage.
It might feel as though you’re waiting for something this week, but what is it? You might feel a still and hazy sense that your life’s in a state of suspended animation while you wait for some news to break, or for the sky to open up above your head, or for an unexpected visitor to arrive and change everything. Pay attention to your daydreams this week. Consider the possibility that you’re already subconsciously aware of whatever you’re waiting for the world to show you.
Through so much of your life, there’s this nebulous anxiety that you’ll be misunderstood, that your intentions won’t be recognized, that others will overlook the full range of your mind, of your energy, of your love. This week, though, you might get small brilliant flashes of absolute clarity. Is it that you’re finally being recognized by the world, or is it that you’re fully recognizing yourself? It hardly matters. You can take this clarity and hold it, and you can let it power you through any uncertainty that arises.
There’s nothing shameful in being afraid of really big change, of the change that you want most. You might tell yourself that there’s something wrong with you for feeling hesitant, for feeling a nagging bite of fear, but hesitation is only normal. This is a week for starting with something smaller. It’s a week for noticing the ways changes build on each other, the ways they subtly create possibility. Think of it like building a muscle, this slow acquisition of a tolerance to change.
You might feel so hungry for beauty this week, so hungry for color and light. You might feel desperate for something new, something surprising, something you haven’t seen before. This week, give yourself permission to seek out the things that you need. The search might take you into the wild, or it might take you into unknown cities. But you might not have to travel that far. If you pay attention, there’s beauty to be found even in the moments that hold no special drama, even in the everyday, functional spaces of your life.
This week, you might finally find the words for some feeling that’s been haunting you quietly, some feeling that’s been curled up at the bottom of your stomach so long you’ve forgotten you weren’t born with it. You don’t have to be ready to speak about it yet; you don’t have to be ready to write a treatise, or even a poem. It’s enough right now to treat this new blossoming knowledge with gentleness, with seriousness, with care.
The world might try to dazzle you with beauty and sunlight this week, and your mind might come alive with color and motion. But even in the middle of this abundance, there are truths that are ugly and hard to look at, and there are questions that can’t be answered with any kind of elegance at all. Your gift right now, and your task, too, is to keep seeking the truth, to keep refusing to be lied to, while still letting yourself appreciate the ways the world remains beautiful and generous and bright.
This week you might be confronted by feelings outside your range of standard, everyday emotions, feelings heavier or stronger than the ordinary ones, feelings less willing to be folded up and stored somewhere out of sight. It can be tempting to think of this as a burden or a curse, but it’s not a sign of weakness or failure. If you keep paying attention, it might come to seem more like a wild abundance, like a chance to know the world better, like a chance to become surprising, even to yourself.
Right now, your curiosity about the world is sparkling gold in your head. And right now, it’s worth actively following your curiosity to see what the world will reveal. It’s not enough this week to keep asking questions without waiting for an answer,without going after them to see where they lead. Wandering can be valuable, but this is a week for something a little bit more active, more directed. It’s a week for searching, a week for seeking, a week for following the stars.
This is a week for working to make your emotions legible to the people you love, for working to translate feeling into language, into movement, into action. It can feel like a frustrating, impossible project—there’s no way to make an exact copy, no way to make a perfect transcription of the inside of your head. There’s always going to be something that isn’t captured—it’s unavoidable, and it doesn’t mean that it’s not worth trying anyway.
When you’re willing to really examine yourself, when you really look deep, you can find surprising treasures, but surprising aches, too. You can unearth memories of love and magic, but you can also remember times when you acted out of selfishness or confusion or fear. This week, don’t try to cover the bad parts up. Don’t imagine that it’s now your job to justify everything you’ve ever done. There’s a way to hold the bad memories loosely enough to learn and keep moving forward toward joy.
You understand, better than most people, that it’s okay not to know everything. You understand that perfect knowledge won’t save us, that there’s another kind of power, a wild and unknowable magic, in mystery. This week, remind yourself that this doesn’t mean it’s not worth it to keep seeking answers anyway. There’s value in continually moving toward the truth, toward a distant, shimmering horizon. There’s value in refusing to be lied to, in cutting through obfuscation. The mystery will still remain.