In her poem "Possession," Jane Shore describes how the "La Brea tar pits/ keep disgorging ancient bones, squeezing them/ through the oily black muscles of earth/ to the surface." She's referring to the place in Los Angeles where there are lakes of natural asphalt that contain the fossils of ancient mammals. These grails of ancient goo, with their seemingly endless new supply of primeval treasures, serve as an excellent metaphor for the psychic terrain you're inhabiting these days.

Need a few more whacks applied to your mental blocks in the coming week? A few more caresses administered to your growing edge? Cruise on over to your Expanded Audio Horoscope for the week ahead.

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You’re a star—and so am I. I’m a genius—and so are you. Your success encourages my brilliance, and my charisma enhances your power. Your victory doesn’t require my defeat, and vice versa. Those are the rules in the New World—quite unlike the rules in the Old World, where zero-sum games are the norm, and only one of us can win each time we play.

In the New World, you don’t have to tone down or apologize for your prowess, because you love it when other people shine. You exult in your own excellence without regarding it as a sign of inherent superiority. As you ripen more and more of your latent aptitude, you inspire the rest of us to claim our own idiosyncratic magnificence.
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The preceding oracle comes from my book, PRONOIA Is the Antidote for Paranoia: How the Whole World Is Conspiring to Shower You with Blessings. It's available at Amazon or Barnes & Noble.