ARIES (March 21-April 19): In an old comedy sketch called "One Leg Too Few," a one-legged man comes in to a casting agent's office to audition for the part of Tarzan in an upcoming show. The agent is as diplomatic as he can be given the fact that the role would best be played by a strapping young man with exceptional running and leaping skills. "It's possible that no two-legged men will apply," the agent tells the applicant, "in which case you could get the part." Don't be like the one-legged man in this story, Aries. While I usually encourage you to think big and dream of accomplishing amazing feats, this is one time when you should respect your limitations.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): As I was meditating on your horoscope for this week, a song popped into my head: Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing." I instantly knew it was a message from my unconscious, meant to be delivered to your unconscious - a perfect action plan for you to pursue in order to be in maximum alignment with the astrological omens. I encourage you to come up with your own interpretation of what "sexual healing" means for you, maybe even write your own lyrics. If you'd like to listen to the original for inspiration, go here: tinyurl.com/SexHealing. P.S. You don't necessarily need a partner to conjure up the cure.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): You probably get emails that close like this: "Sent from my iPhone." Maybe you even deliver emails like that yourself. Keep that detail in mind while I tell you the dream I had last night. In the dream, all of my Gemini friends had sent me poignant emails. Every one of them said something like, "I've got to get back to where I started from" or "There's something really important that I've got to do, but I can't remember what it is" or "I hear a voice calling my name but I don't know who it is or where it's coming from." And each of their emails ended like this: "Sent from my iSoul." I suspect my dream is in perfect accordance with your astrological omens, Gemini. It's time to go home, in every sense of the word.
CANCER (June 21-July 22): My name was "Robbie" from birth till seventh grade. But as my adolescent hormones began to kick in, I decided I needed a more virile stature. My name became the punchier, sleeker "Rob." But with every year that passes, I find myself heading back in the direction of "Robbie." The clever severity of my youth yearns to meld with the buoyant tenderness I've been cultivating the past decade. I want my paradoxes to harmonize -- my blithe feminine qualities to cooperate with my aggressive masculine side, my bright-eyed innocence to synergize with my restless probing. So you can call me "Robbie" if you like, or "Rob," or sometimes one and sometimes the other. Isn't it time for you, too, my fellow Cancerian, to circle back and reclaim an early part of you that got lost along the way?
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