The anti-year-end horoscope.
As per the Gregorian calendar, the year is ending. As for the rest of us, not quite, unless you are real life Roman numeral. What does the Gregorian New Year’s Eve mean for people who count from Vaisakhi, Lunar New Year, their birthdays, or don’t know or care too often what day or year it is anyways? What will December 31st mean for them…and for you?
It’s a lot of pressure to hold oneself accountable for the last 365 days and the next 365, too. It’s also impossible given the faceted, uncertain, and constant nature of time. So why do we do this shit?
This month’s horoscopes are in riddles and affirmations because this time of year is sensitive. I often find that people need joy and comfort when we hit the Gregorian year end. Something to get us through and provide enough space to sink into reflection but keep ourselves moving in the external world.
There is a diadem that sits inside. You can cut it with a scythe and patch it with prayer.
I am healthy when I compete fairly.
I am powerful because I am an intuitive leader.
I feel loved when I am admired, even by the trees. I know I am not alone.
I am the opposite of orotund. You can steep me in seasons, wriggling, wriggling, wriggling.
I am healthy when I embrace abundance and avoid excess. I am wise enough to know the difference.
My power lies in my hands. They are sovereign and electric.
I feel loved when my efforts are reciprocated. My boundaries are made of verdant stems.
I talk a lot and my side-eyes look like worlds.
I am healthy when I advocate for my emotions.
My power is in regulation. I manage my hearbeat.
I feel loved when I am understood. I enjoy its ebb and flow; I step in for myself when I need.
Who clumsily skated with red-marrowed hooves and later fought a war on a cloud?
I am healthy when I am the self I serve.
My power is in creativity. I have the precision to dismantle and rearrange a patchwork quilt.
I feel loved when I receive attention on my own terms. I recognize the kind that is nourishing.
I am the only landform that anyone can vertically scale on the gravitational plane.
I am healthy when my hygiene translates beyond physical expression.
I am powerful when I am generous. My power is rare.
I feel loved when I can give and receive gratitude. I know its difference against thanks.
I am perfect. I have a million careers, all the time in the world, and walk on my tiptoes. The world’s reality has crushed me.
I am healthy when I accept my imperfections.
I am powerful when I allow others to do their work.
I feel loved when my work is recognized.
I am a flat, repeating column.
I am healthy when I speak and stand in my truth.
I gain power every time I choose kindness over victory.
I feel loved when I surprise myself with my talents.
I am tortuous and carried on in corn, another name for the inner ear’s bony parts.
I am healthy when I take what I want and leave what I don’t.
I am powerful when I inspire others to lead.
I express love by being truthful and kind.
My body is made of dead stuff and I seldom become extinct.
My health is in my eyes. They are thermometers that gauge my needs.
My power is in my capacity to maintain my freedom.
My love does not exhaust. It lost its cap a long time ago.
I reveal two angles on a single plane.
I am healthy when I relax into my work.
I am powerful when I am present in my vulnerability.
I am self-loving when I take breaks.
Time and speed determine my size.
I feel healthy when I accept entropy.
I feel powerful when I can quietly observe.
I am self-loving when I trust my gut instincts.
I can smooth things over but I’m not anti-venom.
I feel healthy when I create stability.
I feel powerful when I can feel a soul smile.
I am self-loving when I step away from what no longer serves me.