HOROSCOPES FOR THE WEEK OF 11/13.
By Laura Tormos
Saturday brings a new moon in Scorpio. In this generous world of circles and loops, here is one more opening, another beginning. Think about the hunger in an unwritten story. Think about the optimism in an unfulfilled wish. If your desire burns like a flame, where will you direct its light?
The seasons change, and so do the commitments we make to each other. The stars shift, and so do the commitments we make to ourselves. This is a week for treating those commitments with tenderness, even if your heart has grown stranger than it once was. Loyalty to the past can glow green like grass. Loyalty to the future can shine too, with a different, stranger light.
Remember what you’re really seeking and what you really need. It’s easy to get drawn to the wrong path, on a search for something that you never wanted at all. Rough seas and warm baths and tears are all made of water. This is a week for finding the right language again, for remembering the real shape of your desires.
There’s so much you’ve been told about yourself that’s wrong. And even though you know the truth of your bright, golden mind, it’s not always easy to hold onto this knowledge. So much noise swirls and howls through the air. You have to be open to doubt, but the world’s wrong thoughts aren’t all yours to keep. Hold tight to the things you know to be true. This week, forget the rest.
When you start to feel stuck, one good way to start moving again is just to imagine something different: an empty house, an open highway. Another way is to open the door and walk outside. There are lives you think are impossible, but they’re only far away. The trees lose their leaves, but they’ll come back sticky and tender and green. Even when whole rivers freeze they thaw in spring.
Sometimes, the best use of your time is growing into yourself; sometimes, the best use of your time is becoming brave. This might sound so basic, like learning how to breathe again, like learning how to sleep. But courage doesn’t happen without practice. There will be other weeks for the kind of work that brings recognition, for the work that glitters and shines. This week is for something different.
Even when your days are rushed, give yourself time to be alone. It’s important, sometimes, to remember how sweet it is that this life belongs to you. You can feel your muscles stretch under your skin, you can feel your voice vibrate in your chest. This week isn’t about loneliness—it’s about calling yourself back to your body. This can feel like a return, or something utterly new, blooming outward, ready to take on this world.
This week, pay attention to the different kinds of light all around you. Watch the sweet, morning sun shine through your window, and watch the evening sun quietly go dark. So much changes in just one day, and still the Earth keeps moving. You can take the wildest risks, and still the sun will rise again.
It’s easy to blame yourself when the world doesn’t see you right, but the problem isn’t you. The world’s so full of fog, and clear vision is rare. Some weeks it helps to retreat from a world that can’t see you clearly, but this week, don’t accept any story that feels itchy on your skin. How do you want to be recognized? How can you make yourself known?
If you stood in one place all week, still as a tower, what would you see? If you held your mind motionless and quiet, at least for a moment, what visions would fill it up? Sometimes, it’s good to move in every direction at once. This week, if only as an experiment, try to see what it feels like to move in no direction at all. It’s a season for steadiness, a time for digging deep.
Even in the most public places, there’s a private life you get to live. Even when you feel most exposed and seen, you still hold secrets and surprises. Remember this if things get too weird or too boring this week. The world holds fields and skies and tundras, but there’s a world inside you, too. You don’t ever need to let anyone else in. Just remember that it’s yours, and it’s there whenever you need it.
The world is full of wild, dark things. You can have these fears that live inside you, fears that turn bright or ones that wait, quiet, germinating. Just remember, this week, that your fear won’t grow into something monstrous if you don’t let it. Fear can’t rise up and strangle you once you look directly at it. It holds no real power if you say its name.
In your whole, wild-beating heart, which is the love that feels biggest? It could be love for a person, or for a city, or for some strange persistent dream. This week, remember to give enough of yourself, enough of your tenderness, enough of your energy, so this best love can keep growing. Survival demands so much of a person, I know—but still there’s energy left for growth and joy. Don’t forget to use it.