May Horoscopes from Galactic Rabbit
by Gala Mukomolova
Dearest Sun Bunnies,
In the Russian language, the word for rainbow light refracted through a prism is the same word as the word for rabbit. When I think of my love for you, when I touch my heart chakra (don’t laugh) and channel each of you, I imagine my body as a room illuminated with bunnies of light. I am writing from that room and you are all in it.
Aquarius (Jan 20-Feb 18): In her poem “Desire,” Alice Walker writes: wherever Life /deposits me: /I want to stick my toe /& soon my whole body /into the water. Last time around I told to you take care. Now I’m asking you to shift your gear to drive. Sweet idealist, sometimes your dreaming gets in the way of your doing, holds you back from the world that is already offering you everything you need. I know you have ideas — beautiful ones — but this month, let them simmer on the back burner. Feast on your life, Aquarius. Haven’t you noticed the magnolia trees in bloom, their thick petals flushed pink and opening? They, too are an offering (one of many) that the universe is giving you. All you need to do is notice — stay open, Aquarius, use both hands.
Pisces (Feb 19-Mar 20): Blessed belated Beltane, my darling. Did you celebrate? Did you feel some earthly call spinning inside you? Did you howl at the stars and worship below an altar of your lover’s body? Or, has time slipped away from you as you mourned all things un-fulfilled? “Let’s face it,” Judith Butler writes, “We’re undone by each other. And, if we’re not, we’re missing something. This seems so clearly the case with grief but it can be so only because it was already the case with desire. One does not always stay intact.” Like all Pisces, Judith should be careful about so easily conflating the nature of grief and desire. Both invoke surrender, yes. But desire is the ghost you invite in and grief is the ghost your loss makes of you. What kind of surrender do you want?
Aries (Mar 21-Apr 19): Once, I met this amazing woman named Wangari Maathai. Wangari spent her life fighting for environmental justice and empowering the women around her. She was a brilliant movement leader in every sense of the word (and how Aries of her!). Hearing her speak I began to cry in the dark of the auditorium. She asked each of us what it would take for a small hummingbird to put out a raging fire: a tiny beak-full of water at a time. She asked us if we were willing to be brave hummingbirds in this world. “Finally,” Wangari said, “I was able to see that if I had a contribution I wanted to make, I must do it, despite what others said. That I was OK the way I was. That it was all right to be strong.” I believe in you, Aries. I believe you can put out any fire, no matter how small you feel.
Taurus (Apr 20-May 20): It’s your month! Happy birthday! I just shuffled some cards for you, heart-friend, thinking that they would tell me something I don’t already know. Well, if you know anything about divination (earth magician you), then you know the way an unfolding can feel familiar — as if it was never meant to be otherwise. While shuffling, the Queen of Hearts (cups) jumped out at me. I kept going, but it was pointless. The Queen lingered, winking her rose quartz light at me. Taurus, Venus is your maker. She’s right above you, your hot pink star. Everything in you is getting the go-ahead. Your affection is a treasure that the world wants to kiss deeply and for a long time.
Gemini (May 21-Jun 20): I know we’ve had some talks, Gemini. I know that I’ve encouraged you to be more truthful, more forthright about where you’re at. And I know, too, that you have gathered your magic, whether it be light or dark, and taken time to learn it. Gemini, I’m still worried about you. I mean, you put up a good front: so generous with your time, so independent, always onto the next big thing. I feel like there is something stuck in your throat that won’t dislodge. That’s ok, Twin-star. It happens. Being honest with yourself about what you need might be the hardest thing we never get taught how to do. And when we fail, our bodies betray us. Take this month to be extra loving with yourself. Root yourself. Dig it up, write it down, and cry it out.
Cancer (Jun 21-Jul 22): Cancer, I want to be gentle with you. I am thinking about your soft center and breakable shell, the way you move sideways towards your perceived destination. Have you been full of ache and regret lately? Even in the midst of great accomplishments? I understand. These feelings, these memories and wounds are often beyond our control. This is what multi-media artist Tracey Emin wrote of her art: “I think all experiences add to make the person, but I could have done without the traumas in my life. What I’ve done is used my experiences to my advantage, turning the negative around to a positive. That’s one of the greatest things that trauma can teach.” Cancer, I urge you to un-break your own heart, to gather strength and wisdom from your wounds.
Leo (Jul 23-Aug 22): These days I have to reach deep inside to speak to you. You’ve been on guard: kitty shoulders set square, performing a kind of imperviousness. Leo, what’s really going on? My heart chakra hurts when I channel you. Something is amiss. And although I know you have it under control, I’d like you to consider the possibility that maybe the reason you feel so stressed, so hard-shelled, has nothing to do with anyone else. This is a powerful time to re-evaluate the path you have chosen. Is there a truer, braver, way to create the life you want? If rejection or disappointment has left you cynical and closed off, step out, Lioness. The path to your dreams requires work. It isn’t easy. And, hokey as this may sound, it wouldn’t be worth it otherwise.
Virgo (Aug 23-Sep 22): Doesn’t it feel like life is finally falling into place? Mutable Virgo, the birds are out, the sky is blue, it’s beautiful and so are you. If I could give you a bouquet for your hard work, I would. You’ve had a trying year, so much reckoning, so many tests of endurance. I want to turn to you and say: it’s over now, sweetheart, go coast those gentle Spring waves. If I could, I would. Truth is, you still have decisions left to make and you need to be deliberate. The way the next month unfolds is completely up to you. Be kind to yourself, yes, be kind to your resilient heart, but also be firm. You know how Virgo Fiona is all “Once my flame and twice my burn” when she is a Shadow Boxer? You might think she’s talking about her lover but I think she’s talking about her own heart.
Libra (Sep 23-Oct 22): Oh, Libra, I know sometimes I’m hard on you. You get defensive; you’re trying your best, and doesn’t that count for something? I want you to know that I see you. Can almost picture you moving through the world and stopping every so often to place a hand to your heart and inhale. Loving and being loved is not easy. Especially when people rely on consistency and steadfastness, which are not always your greatest skills. Is there a part of you that feels like you must choose between your own needs and those of others, that there is no middle ground? I want you to spend some time and think about what it means to compromise your intuition for the sake of pleasure or the continuing adoration of those around you. I want you to honor the heart you’ve placed your hand to.
Scorpio (Oct 23-Nov 21): Hey Moody. How’s that mood going? Shifting every hour? Crying into your tea then sighing deeply with love for the small buds opening outside? Cool. It’s cosmic, Sister, let it ride. Oh wait; you can’t let anything ride. Ok, here’s what you should not do: feel the sadness and wade deeper. You know what I mean: “Oh look, here’s a wound I haven’t noticed, let me prod it.” Prodding old wounds is a favorite past time of yours, I recognize that, but this month be easy with yourself. Tend your tenderness. Go watch a sad movie and cry about something that has no relation to you. Bake yourself a pie, a rhubarb strawberry pie. It’s seasonal, the perfect balance of sour and sweet, like you.
Sagittarius (Nov 22-Dec 21): Okay, Sagittarius. Something is coming up from the earth’s molten core and it is coming through you. I think you’re going through some kind of sexual (okay, or creative) renaissance: the muscles and veins in your body are pumping double time. Is it the spring? The Taurus sun and moon sensual energy? I mean, honestly, who cares? Keep it real and live good. Just try to make sure that whatever it is you’re doing, it brings you closer to yourself and your desires, not further. That fire energy inside you can feel a lot like instinct, an instinct you can’t ignore. Sometimes, in summer, a street gets so hot with sun that whatever is beyond it seems unreal: a shaking mirror. That shaking is an illusion, a trick of light. Don’t fall for it.
Capricorn (Dec 22-Jan 19): Capricorns, I have this brilliant poet friend. She’s a Capricorn and like all Capricorns she has a secret magic she only lets you see when you ask her for it. I said to her: Sweet friend, how are Capricorns these days? And she said: What I think, is that we are not listening. Or, if we are listening, we are not hearing correctly. I thought about this for a long time. About what it feels like to betray yourself so often in your efforts to truly understand others. To betray your short-comings or your insecurities. I thought about what it means to be vulnerable without a backup plan, a joke, or a tough mug. I thought about my dear friend’s poem “Sift,” wherein she writes: every city has a country bar / I am not always so tough when I walk in. It’s tough to be tender, my Sea-Goats, but walk in anyway. Walk in, order a drink, and listen. Let your body move, surrender to that music.
Gala Mukomolova is a poet ruled by Pluto, a planet in our hearts.