We are excited to introduce art by Ayqa Khan to our monthly horoscopes! The images are an oration kindling our senses of home, place, perspective, and style; of existing through relationship and ownership. As Venus retrograde uncovers authentic beauty and radical self love, there couldn’t be a better time to showcase this art to the world.

It’s March. This is when winter transitions to spring. Venus retrograde continues and Mars moves forward through operatic Taurus. With Mars in a theatrical place and Venus in a backwards sleepwalk, we learn in opposites and through conflict.

In our insular world, it is easy to forget that winter-to-spring doesn’t always mean more sunshine. Remember the Earth has four hemispheres and two poles. North America’s spring is Swaziland’s autumn. And in Antarctica, it hardly ever gets darker than the light violet-and-gold gradations that precede sunsets.

My sun sign is Pisces. My compassion shapes such a resentment that I later eat my young. But what if we stopped using the comfort of homes — our sun signs — as an excuse for questionable behaviors and instead occupied our opposite spaces? Outside of our comfort zones, there is pristine territory that could beautifully transform us if we simply gave ourselves the permission to wander. We may be more welcome in those spaces than we think.

What might it mean for a Pisces to practice some boundaries, for a Capricorn to stop using everything as an opportunity, and for a Scorpio to soften a bit? For every sign to practice an Opposite Day?

The answer is growth. A shift in perspective. Seeing a new person in an old friend.

This month’s horoscopes are about tough love and the lessons for each sun sign. When you were born, these lessons were laid out before you. To execute and traverse through them…well, that is up to you. Free will.


Arians get flack for hot tempers and lack of grace. But this couldn’t be more untrue. Situated right between Pisces and Taurus, Aries natives stoke their inner flames underneath tranquil exteriors. They have the healthy gift of blowing off steam, of personifying energetic renewal. Aries is a cardinal sign and the first of twelve, an initiator and innovator. A trailblazer. So, this is your lesson, Aries: stop and think. Rush less. Process more. Show up vulnerable and absorbent, like you live in a drop of dew. Dew drops are early signs of morning. You’ve been the sun’s first ray; try the dew drop. So what, someone might find you and pluck you up like Thumbelina. It’s a metaphor for this month’s tossing adventures, rendering you more pioneering than you already feel.

Do this on your opposite day: short sitting meditations, listen to understand, act like an eggshell.


Mars (passion) and Mercury (communication) are in your sign like fire-tailed comets. Run, now. Run, Taurus. For the last two months, you’ve been the earth’s rumbling, the body’s yearning, the stifled cry. Say what you need now. And rush towards it. Run. Passionate, galloping, valiant. Hibernation is ending and you are awake. The lithe musculature you’ve been developing from living on winter’s sweet detritus is brassily calling to be witnessed. The cold gust of your hot sprint might rub a few the wrong way but this way forward will serve you well. Think of your performative moments like a fire explosion on a movie set: run, and you have one chance to do it right. Don’t plan on much (Venus might blunt pre-planned pursuits, anyway). Trust you have a place to rest after your fast-track marathon.

Do this on your opposite day: wake on the first alarm ring, rip pages out of information catalogs, differentiate between cog and spoke.


Live and bask in the most beautiful poetry you can find, Gemini. Find the hidden hallways in the bookstore. You will find something from 1948 that is as scandalous as it is relevant today. Because what’s really changed, anyway? The world’s problems just keep on recycling. It’s the first rule of science: nothing is created or destroyed, just refigured. While carrying this hard realization, what better way to soothe your soul by fanning Rumi, Neruda, and Cisneros on your bed, watching the window’s gridded sunlight (or shadow) framing words in the morning. Poetry is hymnal, there’s no room for skepticism there. Unless it’s in verse. What I am trying to say to you is: lead with feeling. Tuck your shoulder blades in, like little wings, while you sleep. Physiologically, this opens the heart.

Do this on your opposite day: long walking meditations, aromatherapy, ask questions that land softly.


Radical self-care can thin out that hard shell of yours. Sounds kind of scary, right? It is necessary to self-protect and you learned that early. It’s a mentality you project. It is why you invest so much in the care of all things outside yourself, whether that’s family, friends, your possessions, or your job. Once you invest in yourself, you will see there is not as much of an urge to self-guard because your heightened self-esteem will posture you to stand resiliently in front of a seemingly cruel and unforgiving world. The outcome of your efforts on other people will not hold as much power over you. All year, I have been urging you towards self-care. Do not guilt yourself if this means divesting from the emotional capital you’re disbursing on your external world. Tend to who is inside and do it deliberately. This means an inner strengthening and an outer softening.

Do this on your opposite day: choose steep hikes, drink citrus teas, splurge on the entrée instead of dessert.


Dreamy Leo, it’s time to snap out of that winter funk and move towards the sun. Finally, she is showing her face. This month, move your body and move completely like you. Step out of the dream you’ve been living in. Yes, you are still a visionary. Some of your ephemeral visions became solidified and will leak into your real world in wave-form, carrying an audible stroke like 1,000 shimmering beads falling from a plastic tube. Now, they will spill and stick to your life’s Elmer’s-glue map. But do not lazily roll around in your creative knack. Move through it and rectify it. Learn a new dance style, try fencing, inner-tube while there is still snow on the mountain peaks. You do not need to do any of this quietly. If you actively make the transition to spring as stunning as possible, you will glamorously precedent the next few months.

Do this on your opposite day: use controlled yawns, do not sit on the booth side, shave an hour off a 10-hour sleep.


The body is not a euphemism. Let yours open on its own wish. When you yawn, splay your arms out. This unapologetic embodiment is a foreshadow of spring. You have a beautifully intuitive body, Virgo. Arguably, you are the sign most attuned to how it must be witnessed and carried. Let the world see you, now. There is a majesty to your supermarket stride or the way you perch yourself on a park bench. Like a scarlet cardinal. Vigilant, comfortable, sturdy. And sensuous. You are set to be spring’s priestess. Winter’s sleep is sliding off, now. For some, Venus retrograde means being careful with your beauty regimen. But for you, it seems to have the opposite effect. Take risks. Ovid’s Medusa was the “jealous aspiration of many suitors,” and this may not seem too far from your burgeoning reality, Virgo…

Do this on your opposite day: laugh when the fresh fruits mold, leave lingerie to hang from the dining chair, kiss a stranger.


Do you remember that game, Frogger? You are like Frogger right now, Libra. Gamboling and everlasting. Every obstacle is like a springboard. Every moment is a light fleeting, every smile you shoot at someone is a bubble that sprightly pops. But what if you dipped your finger into the inky fabric of those interactions? Sometimes, traveling light-footed means eviscerating moments that have a lot to reveal. So, get in touch with your animal side, Libra. Frogger was a computerized cartoon. In real life, frog skin is so sensitive that the quality of it indicates the state of the whole planet. This month, I want you to be an antenna for sensitive information. It will make you more clear sighted, which is what you’ve always wanted.

Do this on your opposite day: let your tears fall out in front of someone, grunt happily at good news, and communicate only in facial expressions.


I used to know a Scorpio who had contempt towards pastel colors. She worshiped the sun. Orange, yellow, red. When you mix them all together and add white, you get coral. This is your color for March, Scorpio. My dentist told me this is color of healthy gums. So, I would advise you towards excellent mouth care, too. Oral hygiene directly impacts your heart health. Coral gums, happy heart. But it’s not just a pigment I’m talking about, it’s a structure. Corals are some of the most important structures in our oceans but they are bleaching at an alarming rate. Do you see how foundational your power color is to sustain life and prosperity? It’s almost a light pink, a pastel. This month, try carrying something coral-colored with you at all times. It will enliven everyone and everything around you; it will be as bewitching as when black-and-white films began to be remastered in color.

Do this on your opposite day: let people do as they please, use peripheral vision more often, chat with babies who gaze at you.


What might it mean to practice restraint? There’s a wisdom that comes from being in yourself. Instead of boomeranging your grievances and declarations out for others to catch or get cut by, suspend them vertically. Do not stuff them. Imagine this now: there is a pool of light around you. It has a 1-foot diameter and stands as a columnar cylinder. There’s the littoral layer at the top, benthic at the bottom. These are ocean column classifications. Plankton at the top, lantern fish at the bottom. But in your world, what kind of things and creatures reside in each layer? And what would you name the layers in between? What, or who, buoys you between them? Next time you want to scream at someone in anger or joy, picture this world forming and step into it. Restraint can pull you into an inner universe that only you can shape and know.

Do this on your opposite day: thoroughly investigate your crush, watch a Lifetime movie (Selena is a great one for Saggi’s), decide that today is your waking dream.


It might seem like everything is an investment: chatting with the barista, deciding to speak to your sister again, the hours spent on your education. I want you to pull away from the goal-setting, a bit. Baptize yourself in the magic of place and time. It might be frustrating sitting at the same bus stop every day for 30 minutes but being there so often could be an eventual part of your life’s work by default. Ten years from now, maybe you’ll write about the bus stop. Maybe you’ll see the same girl, finally a lady, waiting. This requires that you grow to understand where you are first. Observe how the people around you show up in the world. If you practice presence, you will come to realize what is meant to be deliberately on your path and what is not.

Do this on your opposite day: Take one more break than you’re used to, drink three more glasses of water than usual, and smile at those who test your patience.


This month, walk on past those who do not reciprocate. Overactive empathy and compassion are very real problems you are familiar with. So, offer some grace to those who coo shallow praises or demand the structured parts of you without paying mind to the cracks. Then glide on by. You have bigger fish to fry, after all. It’s not time to entertain anyone’s small grievances right now. The world needs an unapologetic marching forward. And this is exactly why you were born, Aquarius: to lead people to integrity and justice. And who are you to shy away from a mess? Simba is a good avatar for you; he LAUGHS in the face of danger, ha! Do not forget to watch Lion King in theaters when it comes out, either.

Do this on your opposite day: ignore others’ annoyances, record the slow blossom of a bud, confront a micro-manager.


Happy birthday, March Pisceans. I’d tell you to bask in the all the crazy you’re about to feel, but I want to challenge you in the heart of your season. Do not stray from your plans. Before you go somewhere or meet someone, know a little about what you are about to get yourself into. Don’t spill for someone who doesn’t spill for you. Practice tit-for-tat. There will always be moments where we reveal too much or too little, but the point here is to stop acting self-sacrificial. Go on, take that sip of water or pocket-snack when everyone else is lurching and grasping for energy. A slight to someone else’s jealousy is no poison to you. Be inside of yourself while doing what you do best: sinking deeply into the world and charming everyone in your path to smithereens.

Do this on your opposite day: stop hiding behind words, forget about your frenemies, walk like there’s a book on your head.