ARIES (March 21-April 19): Though one of the closest stars to our sun, Teegarden's star was unknown to astronomers until 2003. Located in the constellation of Aries, it's a red dwarf with relatively modest heat and luminosity, and moves very fast compared to other stars. Let's make Teegarden's star your metaphor of the month for June. I predict that you'll discover and engage with a major presence that has always been close to you but low-key — a quick, understated influence that has never before captivated your attention.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): The editors of Harper's magazine took a survey of American organizations devoted to bigotry. They counted 151 different neo-Nazi groups, 163 chapters of the KKK, 62 congregations of Christian Identity, 48 skinhead cults, and 29 black separatist movements. But five states harbored none of these groups at all--Iowa, Alaska, Maine, and North and South Dakota. Racism undoubtedly exists there, but not so much that anyone feels a burning drive to formally organize the hatred. Take your cue from these relatively enlightened oases in the coming week, Taurus. Be a master of peace, acceptance, compassion, and optimism--especially when you brush up against people who are exuding derisive, judgmental cynicism. Do it for your own health as much as for your environment's.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): This week's horoscope draws on the wisdom of Gemini philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson. His soaring perspective is a perfect fit for your current astrological omens. Here's the first: "All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better." Emerson #2: "What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have never been discovered." Here's your third Emersonian clue: "He who is not every day conquering some fear has not learned the secret of life." Let's finish up with this battle cry, Emerson #4: "Do not go where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail."
CANCER (June 21-July 22): In her CD Spiritual Madness: The Necessity of Meeting God in Darkness, Caroline Myss tells us that wading through messy darkness is an essential part of our search for meaning. She doesn't recommend that we avoid chaos at all costs, or even just accept it with resignation. Rather, we should welcome it as a gift that can teach us crucial secrets about how to become ourselves. I agree with Myss. That's why I advise you not to resent the confusion before you. And don't just mindlessly clean it up as fast as you can, either. Instead, dive into it. Celebrate it. Allow it to change you into a riper, wiser, more beautiful soul.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): "Dear Rob: Thanks for writing your horoscopes. You make me laugh even when life is pelting me with stones. You comfort me, teach me, bring me back from deluded daydreams, give me realistic goals to daydream about, kick my butt into gear when I need it, and tell me when it's safe to kick others' butts when they need it. You rock the foundations of my world! — Grateful Leo." Dear Grateful: What's amazing is that your allies and loved ones need you to bestow on them the exact blessings you've just ascribed to me. It's prime time for you to be a towering role model, a servant of the greater good, the feisty leader of your tribe.
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Your relationship with time seems to be one of your biggest problems. There's never enough of it. You're always fighting against the limitations it imposes. It frustrates you and even hurts you. But let me ask you this: Can you imagine yourself cultivating a more friendly and cunning relationship with time? Are you able to visualize the prospect of you and time becoming more like allies than adversaries? How would it feel to regard time as a loving taskmaster that compels you to realize you can't do everything and must therefore focus on only your brightest dreams and truest pleasures? This is a perfect moment, astrologically speaking, for you to attempt this magic.
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): Do you think you could arrange to drive a car equipped with a jet engine through desert salt flats at 200 miles per hour? Given the current astrological omens, that would be my first recommendation for you. If that's not possible, would you consider enrolling in circus school and learning how to be safely and elegantly shot out of a cannon? And if neither of those two alternatives are likely, Libra, please somehow stir up a visceral sense of moving speedily toward the future.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): "Dear Rob: Can you give me a rational explanation for why Scorpio is the most hated and feared sign of the zodiac? When I tell someone I'm a member of that tribe, the usual reaction is along the lines of 'Ooohhh, a Scorpio,' in the same way someone would say 'Ooohhh, a horribly disfigured, compulsively evil, sexually deviant sideshow freak.' — Sick of Being Dissed." Dear Gorgeous Crafty Rebel Lover: I have some good news for you. 2007 is Scorpio Rehabilitation Year, and June is Scorpio Glorification Month. To take advantage of these milestones, all you need to do is vividly express your most beautiful qualities. Leave the rest to the universe.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): Here are a few of the fine improvements I expect you to have accomplished by the end of June: tips on how to live well in two worlds; an addition to the reasons why people find you attractive; a crash course that helps you become more fluent in the language of intimacy; richer, more interesting feelings than you've experienced in a long time; and practical insights into how to avoid being flustered by paradoxes that have driven you crazy in the past.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): "If you make people think they're thinking," said author Don Marquis, "they'll love you; but if you really make them think, they'll hate you." My objective in this week's horoscope is to prove him wrong: I want you to love me for making you really think. In the hope of accomplishing this goal, I'm giving you the assignment of revising two of your long-standing opinions or theories about the way the world works. As you aggressively seek out the information that will help you change your mind, try to feel tender compassion for me, the wise guy who's asking you to undertake such an arduous and potentially rewarding task.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): When my friend Keith and I were in college in the early 1980s, we were extravagant ambassadors for poetry. On weekends we'd roam from party to party, reciting Neruda poems to audiences of drunk punks and declaiming Ginsberg verses as we teetered on the tops of cars. On occasion we'd scrawl our own poems on the walls of strange living rooms or improvise surrealistic spoken-word rants in the streets, begging for alms. Years later, I write a syndicated astrology column that might be described as a stealth poetry invasion, and Keith is a producer for a national news broadcast, onto which he sometimes brings noted poets to close the show with a lyrical splash. So now I ask you, Aquarius: What raw passion would you like to turn into a polished gig in the future? Now is a good time to make a deep commitment to it.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): "I usually solve problems by letting them devour me," wrote Franz Kafka. That's an interesting approach, I guess, and though it might work for a fire sign or air sign, it's not a wise policy for you Pisceans. In fact, I urge you to fervently resist any temptation you might have to allow your problems to gobble you up. On the contrary, be like a gargantuan sea monster in the midst of the perfect storm. Rise up as high as the dark sky and growl back at the thunder. Shoot flames from your mouth at the lightning. Become too big and ancient and wild to ever be devoured.