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Week of May 21st, 2020

Thank You for Your Kindness

We are in a collective Dark Night of the Soul, where all the stories are scrambled into one messy and incomprehensible Zen Riddle. One set of useful responses:

* Don’t go numb

* Be willing to dwell with poise and grace amidst the fear and uncertainty

* Don’t indulge in primitive, runaway thinking that concocts crazy stories

* Stay anchored in the quizzical here and now

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You've been so extraordinarily kind to me lately! Thank you for your generous donations and beautiful notes!

Here's the back story: In my last newsletter, I told you about how the alternative weekly newspapers have been suffering financially from the pandemic. I described how I've been allowing them to publish my horoscopes for free, hoping that will help them survive.

This means, of course, that none of those newspapers have been paying me, as they have done for so many years.

In response, many of you readers stepped forward to send me actual money. I've been amazed at your largesse! So many of you have also written me messages to express how much you love my work. I've been touched by the deep feelings you've conveyed.

At the risk of asking too much, I will remind you of the ways you can contribute to me:

1. Visit my Gift Page — and contribute to me now and then via the "Friends and Family" option.

2. Commit to offering me a regular donation through my Patreon page.

3. Send checks or cash to me at P.O. Box 4400, San Rafael, CA 94913.

4. Buy my Expanded Audio Horoscopes and/or Sunbursts, my Daily Text Message Horoscopes


P.S.: No pressure, though! I understand that some of you don't have enough money yourself, and it wouldn't make sense for you to give some to me.

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Here's a link to my free weekly email newsletter, featuring the Free Will Astrology horoscopes, plus a bunch of other stuff. It arrives every Tuesday morning.

Read past issues of the newsletter.

Sign up here for your free subscription.

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Rebecca Solnit writes: "I use the term hope because it navigates a way forward between the false certainties of optimism and of pessimism, and the complacency or passivity that goes with both.

"Optimism assumes that all will go well without our effort; pessimism assumes it’s all irredeemable; both let us stay home and do nothing.

"Hope for me has meant a sense that the future is unpredictable, and that we don’t actually know what will happen, but know we may be able write it ourselves.

"Hope is a belief that what we do might matter, an understanding that the future is not yet written. It’s informed, astute open-mindedness about what can happen and what role we may play in it.

"Hope looks forward, but it draws its energies from the past, from knowing histories, including our victories, and their complexities and imperfections.

"It means not being the perfect that is the enemy of the good, not snatching defeat from the jaws of victory, not assuming you know what will happen when the future is unwritten, and part of what happens is up to us."

Read Rebecca Solnit's essay

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• Which aspects of your soulful beauty are potentially of greatest service to the world?

• How can you express your uniqueness in ways that activate your most profound generosity?

• What could you personally do to make the world a better place for our descendants?

• What are the gifts and blessings that constitute your finest legacy?

• Can you foresee yourself becoming completely committed to performing the magic that no one else can do?

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by Jane Hirshfield

More and more I have come to admire resilience.
Not the simple resistance of a pillow, whose foam
returns over and over to the same shape,
but the sinuous tenacity of a tree:
finding the light newly blocked on one side,
it turns in another. A blind intelligence, true.
But out of such persistence arose
turtles, rivers, mitochondria, figs --
all this resinous, unretractable earth.

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If you want your personal chart done, I recommend a colleague whose approach to reading astrology charts closely matches my own. She's my wife, RO LOUGHRAN. Her website is here.

Ro utilizes a blend of well-trained intuition, emotional warmth, and technical proficiency in horoscope interpretation. She is skilled at exploring the mysteries of your life's purpose and nurturing your connection with your own inner wisdom.

In addition to over 30 years of astrological experience, Ro has been a licensed psychotherapist for 20 years. She integrates psychological insight with astrology's cosmological perspective.

Ro is based in California, but can do phone consultations and otherwise work with you regardless of geographic boundaries.

Check out Ro's website.

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Williams James said, "A great many people think they are thinking when they are merely rearranging their prejudices."

I would add that a great many people think they are thinking when they are merely trying to rationalize their unconsciously generated and habitual feelings.

As for myself, I'm still learning how to think. Fortunately for me, I do keep improving.

I have steadily become more objective. I'm a better researcher. I'm more precise in my use of language, a better evaluator of what's factual and what's opinion-driven, more humble about my ability to grasp what's true, and more committed to seeing things as they are rather than as I would like them to be or hallucinate them to be.

I'm more truly skeptical—not faux skeptical as so many dogmatically skeptical "skeptics" are.

I'm better at formulating useful questions. I know that asking good questions is preferable to clinging to easy, pat, simplistic answers.

I've been able to critique rampant scientism, that distortion of true science, even as I make rigorous use of the scientific method, with its beautiful, clean, elegant approach to assessing the world.

My effort to become a better thinker has been hard work. None of it would have happened if I hadn't been deeply committed to becoming a better practitioner of the art of thinking.

And I still have a long way to go before I become the THINKER I could be.

What about you? How are you doing in your relationship with the art of thinking clearly?


One person told me, reacting to my thoughts above, that she aspires to move beyond thought—to not stay in the duality of right/wrong, true/false, good/bad, which in her opinion, thinking engenders.

Here's what I said in response: In my view, it's an excellent and healthy strategy to regularly move beyond thought. We need that refreshment! But it's also crucial to have a strong thinking function, which keeps my discernment strong.

For me, using the thinking function does the opposite of shunting me into dualism. It gives me a sense of the complicated nuance of everything in the world, and makes me less likely to try to pigeonhole phenomena into simplistic categories.

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by Kim Stafford

Agenda in a time of fear: Be not afraid.
When things go wrong, do right.

Set out by the half-light of the seeker.
For the well-lit problem begins to heal.

Learn tropism toward the difficult.
We have not arrived to explain, but to sing.

Young idealism ripens into an ethical life.
Prune back regret to let faith grow.

When you hit rock bottom, dig farther down.
Grief is the seed of singing, shame the seed of song.

Keep seeing what you are not saying.
Plunder your reticence.

Songbird guards a twig,
its only weapon a song.

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This is International Crying Week. You have a poetic license to sob, mourn, lament, blubber, and weep because of deep sadness or unreasonable joy or cathartic epiphanies or compassion for the suffering of others or visions of the interconnectedness of all life.


My friend Marika regards her crying spells as surrogate orgasms. They bring a surging release of pent-up emotions, and leave her deeply relaxed and in love with life.

Another friend, Ariane, weeps now and then out of self-pity, but more often her sobs are triggered by overwhelming beauty, like the sight of a dragonfly alighting beside her as she gazes on Mt. Tamalpais at dusk.

Myself, I experience my tears as a well-earned triumph, whether they're driven by loss or fullness; they're the sign of the inner work I've done to feel things deeply.


In his book Crying: the Natural and Cultural History of Tears, Tom Lutz asserts that people don't cry as much as they used to. The English of the Victorian era, supposedly renowned for their stuffy behavior, put us to shame with their abundant outpouring of tears.

So what's our excuse? There's as much, if not more, to be mournful about nowadays; and we certainly don't suffer from a lack of events to spur our cathartic joy and empathy.


Would you like to volunteer to do something about the modern weeping deficit? Because of our current Global Healing Crisis, you now have rich opportunities to unleash extra tears.

Experiment: Walk into the hills or woods and find a large rock jutting up out of the earth in a place that makes you feel at home. Sit down on or next to that rock and let go of the tightly wound emotions you've been holding onto. Sob or sigh until you achieve a spiritual release that will free your mind and heart to feel uninhibited compassion for our global predicament.

Ever hereafter you will call this the Crying Rock, and you will go there whenever you need the kind of release that only a beloved natural power spot can facilitate.


Rambunctious singer Tom Waits is not known for his scientific research, but a few years ago he made a valuable contribution in the quest to measure sadness.

Holding a spoon to his cheek during an especially blue period of his life, he found that it takes 121 teardrops to fill a teaspoon.

Building on his work, I've discovered that crying for joy causes a spoon to overflow after only 98 tears, suggesting that they're bigger.

I invite you to do further studies on this subject. Tap into watery breakthroughs of several varieties, ranging from the relatively poignant to the outrageously sublime.


In Janet Fitch's novel White Oleander, a character makes a list of "twenty-seven names for tears," including "Heartdew. Griefhoney. Sadwater. Die tränen. Eau de douleur. Los rios del corazón."

(The last three can be translated as "The Tears," "Water of Pain," and "The Rivers of the Heart.")

I invite you to emulate this playfully extravagant approach to the art of crying. Now is an excellent time to celebrate and honor your sadness, as well as all the other rich emotions that provoke tears. You'll be wise to feel profound gratitude for your capacity to feel so deeply.

For best results, go in search of experiences and insights that will unleash the full cathartic power of weeping. Act as if empathy is a superpower.

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If your path to so-called spiritual "enlightenment" or "growth" or "evolution" doesn't lead you to have more of a capacity to witness and acknowledge the suffering of your fellow humans, then it's not enlightenment, growth or evolution; it's "BYPASS."

—Andrew Strowbridge

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Dear Readers:

For years, my column "Free Will Astrology" has been published in alternative newsweeklies all over North America.

From City Pages in Minneapolis to The Stranger in Seattle to Creative Loafing in Tampa to Now in Toronto—and more than 100 other newspapers—these vibrant sources of local journalism have paid me actual money to print my horoscopes.

I've been very lucky! Their support of my work has been instrumental in me being able to become the person I want to be.

But I'm sad to report that our Global Healing Crisis has financially devastated the alternative newsweeklies. They've lost much of their ad revenue from restaurants, gyms, nightclubs, and cultural institutions. Some papers have shut down. Others are now publishing online only, no longer in hard copy. Virtually all have furloughed workers.

I decided early in the pandemic that I wanted to help out the newspapers that have helped me thrive. I told them all that they could publish "Free Will Astrology" for free during the months of April and May.

While I'm glad I made that move, it means my income has been drastically reduced. Is this a permanent situation? I don't know. The hope is that I will begin getting paid again by July, but if the newsweeklies' predicament remains intense, I will extend my free offer to them.

It's also possible that the crisis won't abate for months, and that some newspapers will close forever. Even in a best-case scenario, wherein most of them re-open, I'll charge them reduced rates.

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why is everything
so gorgeous
this bogus dream
this lunacy why?

—Zen monk and poet Ikkyū

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Call me. I have left my number
everywhere. I want to know
how this story turns out

—Eleanor Lerman

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What feeling or experience do you want more than anything else?

What's the best way to serve the mission you came to Earth to carry out?

What are the best gifts you have to offer?

How might you need to change in order to get what you want and carry out your life's mission?

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Your ancestors asked me to tell you the following: "Call on your ingenuity and imagination as you learn to love everyone even more than you ever have before. It's a great tonic for your mental health and your future dreams."

"Your ancestors also mentioned that although the Bible has a lot of irrelevant nonsense in it, there is some good stuff, including this: 'Don't neglect to show kindness to strangers; for, in this way, some, without knowing it, have had angels as their guests.'"

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I am busy
today and tomorrow
and next week
and for as long as it takes

struggling to change
the way my eyes work,
learning to peel away
the memories that
make me blind

to the science light of the fairies
and the dark love sparks
firing in our brains
and the luminous dreams
shrouded in my blood and yours.

I want to see all those things!
I want you to see all those things!


Today and always
I am fidgeting

as I kill off
the dull decayed shock
that blocks me
from finding and speaking
the magic words
that got lost
inside my old misunderstanding
of death.

I don't misunderstand any more!
But it's taking me
longer than I thought
to fix the glitch.

Hard work!
Unwavering effort!
I'm fighting,
exultant and relentless,
to dismantle the buffers
that make me half-deaf
to the hum of the planets
and the thrum of the rivers
and the music of your ripe longing.

I am grappling and scrapping
with my self-appointed censors—
so I can hear again
the pre-verbal prayers
chanted to me in the crib
by the helpers
with kaleidoscope lyrics
woven in their wings.

I am yearning and pleading
for the animals to teach me
the mysteries of their ordeals and joys
in their own language,
not mine.


Now and forever
I am frantic
to disgorge the machine stories
that trick my empathy
into falling asleep
with their fake blood and explosions
with their digitally rendered sobs
and pretend suffering.

Because OF COURSE!!!
I want to sear
the real sobs and suffering,
the true blood and explosions,
into my blasphemous quest
for reverent justice

my rowdy, rumbling quest
for sacred justice
not just for myself
but for all seekers
of the gods' everlasting flux wonder.

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