(May 21 to June 20)
Happy birthday, Gemini! The art of wanting what you have may just be the most profound art of all. Even if you disagree and are like, No, actually, music is the most profound art of all, it might feel good this month to engage in both.
(June 21 to July 22)
Expectations are kind of the worst. They lead to disappointment, or they fill the now with dread. Sometimes we conflate expectations with hope, but the reality is that when we live in this exact moment, there’s less of a need to create a fantasy about the future. This month, think about what it would be like to expect nothing.
(July 23 to August 22)
I describe myself like a car whose axle is fucked up. I don’t know why I am built the way I’m built; I just know that I am. I’ll probably never go straight on the highway — always crooked, zigging and zagging. Luckily, I have supports in place on each side of the highway so I don’t go fully off the road. As long as my supports are there, I’m OK. What are your supports?
(August 23 to September 22)
If 50 people like us and one person doesn’t, we tend to make that person our focus. Perhaps we learned to do this from a parent who made us work to earn their love. Or maybe the challenge gives us some kind of illusion of meaning within a greater existential field. This month, trust instead those people who come to you easily, freely, and happily.
(September 23 to October 22)
One thing that’s weird is that we don’t have to like the messenger in order to get the message. A messenger can be annoying as shit, but their message may be incredibly valuable, applicable, and helpful. This month, be open to wisdom from unexpected sources.
(October 23 to November 21)
There are so many disposable things on earth that we make into false gods. I’m not saying that you should eliminate the false gods in your life. (After all, you are human, and this is what we do.) But at least be aware of what you elevate to false-god status. Maybe then you won’t torture yourself over ephemeral things so much.
(November 22 to December 21)
Everything is the same everywhere, not only because it’s all been turned into a Starbucks or a Chase Bank, but because we bring ourselves wherever we go. As we head into summer, remember that sometimes the best vacations are the internal trips we take — rearrangements within ourselves — that do not require leaving our surroundings.
(December 22 to January 19)
I’ve been ruminating for a very long time on what it means, exactly, to love oneself. I feel confused when people say “Love yourself.” I’m like, “What does that even mean?” Over time, I’ve come to see self-love as a verb — something we do, rather than something we feel. What are some well-intentioned things that people say that elude you? Are you able to find your own meaning in them?
(January 20 to February 18)
Why is it that when people do past-life regression, it always turns out they were someone famous or exciting, or that they faced a dramatic death in a past life? It’s as though merely being human is not miracle enough for us. This month, revel in the mystery of simply existing, and let your aspirations of grandeur chill for five minutes. You can pick them up again in July.
(February 19 to March 20)
It may feel like you’re making some of the same mistakes over and over again lately. Maybe you are. But the goal is not necessarily that we learn perfectly from our past. Maybe it’s enough to realize what we’re doing just a little quicker each time.
(March 21 to April 19)
The universe’s will is never urgent. This month, be wary of anything you feel you need to make happen, obtain, or change immediately. It might be uncomfortable to sit in a place of doing nothing, and ultimately you may end up pushing ahead anyway, but that moment of pause could be everything.
(April 20 to May 20)
Sometimes we value only that which comes to us through hard work or as a challenge. We feel the things that just show up are somehow not as valuable as that for which we must struggle. This is the month to forget all of that. Just trust that what arrives easily is the best for you right now.
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.