Revel in the Undone, the Unfinished, the Broken



*(August 23 to September 22)*

Happy birthday, Virgo! This month is sort of like if you’ve always used the same ten emojis and then, suddenly, three random emojis make their way into your most-used. At first, it’s kind of uncomfortable, like, *How did these get here? I don’t like them in my palette.* But then you try using one of them, and it’s like, *Hey, this is kind of good.* And then you use another one and it’s like, *Hey, this is fun.* And suddenly your conception of what defines you shifts ever so slightly.


*(September 23 to October 22)*

The art of wanting what you have is really all there is. We are going to keep looking outside of ourselves for glittery things that we think will fill us up, because that is what humans do. And it’s OK. But what is really yours is inside you already.


*(October 23 to November 21)*

It’s important to never totally have your shit together. If we were to actually reach our ideal of perfection (which is usually a warped view of perfection anyway), it would quickly become depressing as hell. An “Is that all there is?” vibe would set in, because no achievement can permanently fulfill the human need to keep growing. Nothing stays static. This month, revel in the undone, the unfinished, and even the broken.


*(November 22 to December 21)*

In the beginning, God created something, or something created something, and then something created something else, or something. The truth is, nobody really knows, but we do know what we feel. This month, remember that you don’t have to understand magic for it to be all around you.


*(December 22 to January 19)*

Beware of oversimplification this month, in terms of both others’ views as well as your own. Simplicity can be beautiful, and it can also be terrible. Remember that most of the time in most human beings, perspective cannot be divorced from ego. Ask yourself why you, and others, hold the views you possess so tightly.


*(January 20 to February 18)*

One thing that is tough is that we are powerless over so many things in life. But one thing that’s beautiful is that means we can’t possibly control everything. This is terrifying and also fabulous news! Make a list this month of all you are truly powerless over, and refer to it often when you find yourself obsessing.


*(February 19 to March 20)*

Do you ever feel like you’re expected to feel guilty for your own happiness? Like there is some cosmic force that is judging you and saying you have to have regrets, or else it isn’t real? If you don’t, that’s awesome, and you can skip this month, because you are more evolved than I am. But if you do, here is a reminder that this voice is not the one you have to listen to.


*(March 21 to April 19)*

If everything feels annoying right now, that’s because it is. I’m not sure why life is designed that way, with all the little tasks and errands and people with their dumb opposing viewpoints. But if everything were smooth, nothing would be funny, and that would suck. This month, indulge your sense of humor as much as possible.


*(April 20 to May 20)*

There’s an old saying: “Let go or be dragged.” Usually we surrender only when there are claw marks all over the thing we are letting go. But what would it look like to surrender something right now, before the clenching onto it nearly kills you? Do you think that it will feel like being erased yourself? Or could there be any peace in it?


*(May 21 to June 20)*

There is a lot of talk about polarity in our world right now. Some dichotomies are true; some are untrue. This month, take shelter instead in that which is multifaceted and nonbinary, or, as poet Stanley Kunitz said, “Live in the layers / not on the litter.”


*(June 21 to July 22)*

OK, this month I have a super-simple thing for you to do. Take a blank piece of paper, put it in your bag, wallet, or pocket, and carry it around with you. Every time you find yourself judging anyone else, draw an X on it. This is not an exercise in self-torture or punishment or even turning the other cheek. I’m not asking you to learn any lessons. It’s merely an experimental-art project.


*(July 23 to August 22)*

There’s a moment when we realize that no person or idyllic future is coming to save us from our lives and that the sanctity is only in the very now. Some people realize this once, absorb it, and move on. Others of us learn it over and over. Most of us are the second way. Is it possible for you to find excitement in the learning?

*Melissa Broder is the author of four collections of poems, including* Last Sext *(Tin House 2016), as well as* So Sad Today, *a book of essays from Grand Central.*