(June 21 to July 22)
This week in Los Angeles, I saw a woman with what looked like fake lips, fake nails, fake breasts, fake cheeks, and a fake Gucci bag walk into a tanning salon. She was carrying a book. It was a book on Buddhism and impermanence. This reminded me that we don’t know anyone else’s story based on appearance alone. I think it’s nice that we don’t know. Happy birthday, Cancer! Celebrate the not knowing.
(July 23 to August 22)
Allowing ourselves to contain multitudes is scary, because the human mind seeks to compartmentalize information into patterns. It’s more cognitively comfortable to slap a label on ourselves and say “I am that,” rather than look at a spectrum and say “I am that and that and that.” This month, revel in your own fragmentation wherever you can. The ability to acknowledge disparate facets at once is a form of wholeness.
(August 23 to September 22)
You’ve probably heard the expression “Don’t go to the hardware store for milk.” This means don’t go to someone for the love, approval, or empathy that they literally don’t have to give. Sometimes, when I think I have ceased going to the hardware store for milk, I’m still going for almond milk. It’s like, I don’t think that I’m expecting anything, but I’m still expecting a little. This month, let’s work on expecting nothing from those who have nothing to give.
(September 23 to October 22)
Truth is one, paths are many — anyone’s claims to possess the one and only way should be taken with a grain of salt. This is not just true of spirituality but also true of politics, love, art, money, and purpose. This is also true of you.
(October 23 to November 21)
This month, live and let live. For your own sanity and the sanity of those around you — and to preserve the mystery of the universe, which we don’t always understand and definitely don’t control. When you settle into “Let live,” it’s actually a relief. But now for the hard part: how to live?
(November 22 to December 21)
Assuming that astrology isn’t total bullshit, you, Sagittarius, probably have a lot of FOMO. This month, ask yourself if it’s really other lives, experiences, and places that you want, or is it the perceived qualities symbolized by those people, places, and things? Then ask yourself if there’s something you can do, a micro-movement rather than a total overhaul, to imbue your life with more of those qualities.
(December 22 to January 19)
If perfection is the enemy of the good, then high expectations are the enemy of peace. This month, plan less and expect less, and be pleasantly surprised at every turn.
(January 20 to February 18)
Go to a Goodwill store or another thrift store. Kook around the racks and put together two outfits that you would wear if all your ideas about yourself were different, or at least more open-ended. Wear each outfit twice: once in a public setting, where you know no one, like on a bus or city street. Then wear them each again at a place where you know people. Where is the perception of judgment more intense? Is the judgment real, or is it a projection? What evidence do you have to back your findings up?
(February 19 to March 20)
Why are you reading this horoscope? If you’re looking for something to change outside of you, remember that we can’t control the universe and what we think will make us happy often ends up being not that great. But if you’re looking for something inside of you, allow me to say you’re on the right path.
(March 21 to April 19)
Celebrate Shabbat four times this month by taking 24 hours off social media, and the Internet as a whole, every Friday at sunset to Saturday at sunset. If there is a God, it probably doesn’t care whether you are posting selfies or not. But your spirit could use a break.
(April 20 to May 20)
What are your expectations about love — the way it is “supposed to” look, feel, sound, and present itself — and what formed those expectations? This month, when even the smallest kernel of an idea about love surfaces, ask yourself where it came from, how it serves you, and if it really feels like yours.
(May 21 to June 20)
Have you ever felt like you might have a thinking problem? What if “Figure it out” was not necessary this month? What if you took a break from having to analyze anything? Would that be scary, exciting, or a little bit of both?
Melissa Broder is the author of the novel The Pisces (Hogarth), out now!; four collections of poems, including Last Sext (Tin House 2016); and So Sad Today, a book of essays from Grand Central.