Your Big-Picture Predictions

A loving look at your destiny in 2026

So far, I have created 3 sets of Big-Picture Audio Horoscopes and 4 sets of Big-Picture Written Horoscopes. They are all completely different. I have a lot so say about your future in 2026!

The written scopes are free. Scroll down to see them in this newsletter. (PS: The Part 4’s of each sign are also the horoscopes for this week.)

The audio scopes cost money. More info right below.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

EXPLORE YOUR LONG-RANGE FUTURE

with my 3-Part EXPANDED AUDIO HOROSCOPES for the Coming Year.

https://RealAstrology.com

Who do you want to become in 2026? Where do you want to go and what do you want to do? My reports can stimulate and inspire your meditations about the interesting possibilities.

This week, my EXPANDED AUDIO HOROSCOPES feature Part 2 of my long-range, in-depth explorations of your destiny in 2026.

Part 1 of your Big Picture, Long-Term Predictions is still available, too. Part 3 will be ready for you on January 13.

What will be the story of your life in 2026? How can you exert your free will to create adventures that’ll bring out the best in you, even as you find graceful ways to cooperate with the tides of destiny?

Register and/or log in at RealAstrology.com.

Click on your sign under “Select Astrological Sign,” then select “Part 1” or “Part 2” of the “Long-Term Prediction for 2026 for your sign.”

+

The cost for the Expanded Audio Horoscopes is $7 per sign if you purchase 7 tokens for $7. (You can get discounts for purchasing larger token packages.)

Each reading is 8 to 11 minutes long.

+

P.S. You can also still access my Sneak Peek at 2026, where I describe major themes you’ll be working and playing with in 2026. For the Sneak Peek, click on “Sneak Peek at 2026 (Dec 23, 2025).”

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Below are your Big-Picture Written Horoscopes — four parts for each sign.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

ARIES — PART ONE: Nine hundred years ago, Sufi philosopher Al-Ghazali provided rigorous advice that’s not very popular these days. “To understand the stars,” he said, “one must polish the mirror of the soul.” Here’s my interpretation: To fathom the truth about reality, you must be a strong character who treasures clarity and integrity. It’s highly unlikely you can gather a profound grasp of how life works if your inner depths are a mess. Conversely, your capacity to comprehend the Great Mystery increases as you work on purifying and strengthening your character. Everything I just said is good advice for all of us all the time, but it will be especially potent and poignant for you in the coming months.

+

ARIES — PART TWO: In the Brazilian rainforest, Cecropia trees and Azteca ants have a special relationship. The trees’ hollow branches serve as nesting spaces for the ants and offer them sugar-rich food. In return, the ants aggressively defend the trees from herbivores and predators, protecting them from damage. This mutualism benefits both species. The trees get protection that enhances their growth, while the ants gain shelter and nutrition. In the coming months, Aries, I invite you to seek symbiosis that’s equally vigorous. Enjoy the fun challenge of reducing your solo struggles as you rouse collaborations that boost your power and everyone else’s. The goal is intelligent alliance, not compromise. Be resourceful as you trade a bit too much independence for just the right amount of interdependence.

+

ARIES — PART THREE: Before major eruptions, volcanoes may emit harmonic tremors. Lasting for hours or days, they are signals that pressure is building. A similar phenomenon is simmering in your sphere, Aries. Be alert. What rhythmic clues are vibrating through your system? What pressure is mounting that could eventually erupt? I’m not saying you should interpret them with a worried mind. In fact, they are offering you valuable intelligence about what needs to be released. You can either ignore them and let the eruption surprise you, or you can pay attention and arrange for controlled venting.

+

ARIES — PART FOUR: The mystics drone on endlessly about letting go. But I’m here now to praise the art of holding on fiercely, tenderly, with full commitment. Some treasures deserve your passionate grip. Some people warrant your loyal devotion. Especially in the coming months, dear Aries, I invite you to devote yourself to your exciting dreams with ardent intensity. No surrender! Relentless perseverance! Uncompromising faith in the beauty and truth you love! What looks like stubbornness to outsiders will actually be fidelity to a vision others can't yet see.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

TAURUS — PART ONE: The sound of a whip cracking is a small sonic boom. The tip breaks the sound barrier, creating that distinctive snap. In my astrological reckoning, Taurus, life has provided you with the equivalent of a whip. During the coming months, you will have access to a simple asset that can create breakthrough force when wielded with precision and good timing. I’m not referring to aggression or violence. Your secret superpower will be understanding how to use small treasures that can generate disproportionate impacts. What’s your whip?

+

TAURUS — PART TWO: When potters center clay on a wheel, they typically use one hand inside the vessel to apply steady, controlled force. The other hand remains fluid, guiding and stabilizing the outer rim of the spinning clay. This balanced use of pressure—one hand firm and bracing, the other adapting minutely to the shifting clay—helps bring the lump into perfect symmetry. I propose you make this a prime metaphor in the coming months, Taurus: control meeting surrender. You will be crafting a new balance between security and surprise. Too much rigidity, and the form cracks; too much flow, and it collapses. Practice the middle art.

+

TAURUS — PART THREE: Your heartbeat isn’t regular like a metronome, but slightly irregular. The phenomenon is called heart rate variability and is a sign of health. A perfectly regular heartbeat is actually a warning sign. Your heart knows something your mind might not believe: Perfect consistency is pathological. Variation is vitality. The rhythm of life includes the beautiful irregularity of a system that’s alive enough to respond and adapt. Keep these truths uppermost in mind during 2026, Taurus. You will thrive on changeability and fluctuation.

+

TAURUS — PART FOUR: As far back as the 19th century, daredevil college students in the UK have reveled in the practice of "night climbing." They clamber up chapels, spires, towers, and bridges under cover of darkness. Why? Mainly for adventure, mischief, and altered perspectives. In the coming months, Taurus, you may be ready for your own symbolic version of night climbing. If that sounds fun, seek out vantage points you’ve never accessed. Experiment with possibilities you’ve dismissed as off-limits or outside your range. Be safe, of course, but also be joyfully exploratory. I bet the view from the frontiers will change you in inspiring ways.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

GEMINI — PART ONE: Some Japanese potters practice yohen tenmoku. It’s a technique used to create a rare type of tea bowl with shifting, star-like iridescence on deep, dark glaze. The sublime effect results from a process that’s unusually demanding, highly unpredictable, and hard to control. Legend says that only one in a thousand bowls achieves the intended iridescence. The rest, according to the masters, are “lessons in humility.” I believe you can flourish by adopting this experimental mindset in the coming months. Treat your creative experiments as offerings to the unknown, as sources of wonder whether or not your efforts yield stellar results. Be bold in trying new techniques and gentle in self-judgment. Delight in your apprenticeship to mystery. Some apparent “failures” may bring useful novelty.

+

GEMINI — PART TWO: Poet Audre Lorde spoke of how caring for herself was the exact opposite of being selfish. It was the foundation of her ability to serve and inspire other people. My Aunt Sophie used to say, “You can’t pour from an empty cup. Take care of yourself first.” Educator Stephen Covey advised, “Be patient with yourself. Self-growth is tender; it’s holy ground. There’s no greater investment.” Poet Vironika Tugaleva writes, “Learning to love yourself is essential and life-changing.” Everything I just said should be your keynotes in the coming months, Gemini. Boost your self-care to sublime levels.

+

GEMINI — PART THREE: The Greenland shark waits for animals to fall asleep, then eats them while they’re unconscious. Since it’s too slow to chase anything, it has evolved a patient approach to hunting. It acts on the understanding that everything eventually lets its guard down. I suggest you cultivate similar patience in 2026, Gemini. There’s no need to rush toward what you want. Position yourself correctly and wait for moments of opportunity. You’re playing a long game.

+

GEMINI — PART FOUR: In the coming months, I’m confident you will see and understand subtleties that most people miss. You’ll be a maestro at tuning in to nuanced subtexts in conversations and hidden openings in stale situations. Everyone else may assume that familiar situations will never change, but you will have the power to tease out creative possibilities. You might even decode seemingly contradictory truths with such aplomb that you surprise yourself. Use this superpower with as much kindness as you can, Gemini. Some discoveries may tempt you toward clever mischief, but I hope that instead you will choose inspired guidance. Your expanded spectrum, if spiced with compassion, can consistently reveal your next leap.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

CANCERIAN — PART ONE: A fair-weather cumulus cloud typically weighs over a million pounds and yet floats effortlessly. Let’s make that one of your prime power symbols for 2026, Cancerian. It signifies that you will harbor an immense emotional cargo that’s suspended with grace. You will carry complex truths, layered desires, and lyrical ambitions, but you will manage it all with aplomb and even delight. For best results, don’t overdramatize the heaviness; appreciate and marvel at the buoyancy.

+

CANCERIAN — PART TWO: A remarkable species of jellyfish can circumvent the aging and death process that affects all other animals. Turritopsis dohrnii converts its mature, specialized cells back into stem cells, essentially recycling its own body into youth. The process may repeat indefinitely, making the animal theoretically immortal. In the coming months, Cancerian, your emotional wisdom will also show amazing regenerative power. Challenging and intriguing situations will be opportunities for you to initiate stunning acts of renewal. Like the jellyfish, you won’t merely manage change but will use it as a catalyst for vigorous growth. Have you ever before been blessed by such wildly rejuvenative powers of metamorphosis? I don’t think so.

+

CANCERIAN — PART THREE: Atmospheric rivers are massive moisture highways in the sky. Meteorologists have been documenting newly identified patterns in how these marvels work. They’ve learned that tiny changes in ocean temperature can redirect thousands of miles of incoming rain. This will be an excellent metaphor for you in 2026, dear Cancerian. You’ll be in atmospheric-river mode. Small shifts in perspective and slight recalibrations of intention will send your momentum flowing in different and better directions. No drama required! Simple micro-adjustments will reroute larger currents. Attend devotedly and zestfully to the subtleties.

+

CANCERIAN — PART FOUR: The honeyguide bird of Africa has a lucrative arrangement with humans. It calls out to honey-hunters, leading them through brush to wild beehives built into trees. The people harvest the honey, and the bird eats the leftover wax and larvae. This cooperation is passed down over generations and benefits both species. Let’s use this as a metaphor for your future in 2026. You will have extra power to notice where mutual benefit is possible, even with unexpected allies. They may be able to guide you toward resources you couldn’t find alone, and you will have value to give in return. Keep an ear out for signals that say, “Come with me, and we’ll both gain.”

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

LEO — PART ONE: Every 11 years, the Sun reverses its magnetic polarity. North becomes south, and south becomes north. The last switch was completed earlier this year. Let’s use this natural phenomenon as your metaphorical omen for the coming months, Leo. Imagine that a kind of magnetic reversal will transpire in your psyche. Your inner poles will flip position. As the intriguing process unfolds, you may be surprised at how many new ideas and feelings come rumbling into your imagination. Rather than resist the cosmic acrobatics, I advise you to welcome and collaborate with them.

+

LEO — PART TWO: According to ancient Egyptian myth, the sun god Ra rode a celestial boat across the sky by day. Each night, he plunged into the underworld to wrangle with chaos so he could rebirth light in time for the dawn. That’s your mythic assignment for the coming months, Leo: not to be nonstop luminous, but to renew and nurture your radiance in the dark. Your courage will lie in feeling and learning from your doubts without identifying with them. Your magnetism and wisdom will deepen as you descend. You won’t be less golden for passing through shadow.

+

LEO — PART THREE: Certain fungi can break down pollutants like pesticides and plastics into less toxic substances. These mushrooms digest what’s considered indigestible, transforming poison into nutrients. I suspect you will have a metaphorically comparable capacity in 2026, dear Leo: a superpower that enables you to metabolize blight and taint. I predict you will exult as you eliminate stuff that’s useless and harmful. Please indulge your unusual talent to the max!

+

LEO — PART FOUR: The cathedral of Notre-Dame in Paris took years to build. Work began in 1163 and continued till 1345. Generations of architects, masons, and artisans contributed to the project, and those who began it didn’t live to see it completed. Yet they labored with devotion, trusting that the holy beauty they facilitated would endure beyond their lifetimes. I hope you’re inspired by this story, Leo. It’s an apt metaphor for you. In the coming months, you could and should lay stones for creations you may not see fully accomplished for months or even years. I encourage you to redefine and refine what faith means to you, and summon it in abundance.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

VIRGO — PART ONE: The sculptor Louise Bourgeois was asked why she worked so often with the image of the spider. She said it was a tribute to her mother, who was deliberate, clever, patient, soothing, helpful, and useful—just like a spider. In the coming months, I invite you to embody her vision of the spider. You will have the wherewithal to weave hardy networks that could support you for years to come. Be creative and thoughtful as you craft your network of care. Your precision will be a form of devotion. Every strand, even fragile ones, will enhance your long-term resilience.

+

VIRGO — PART TWO: In medieval monasteries, scribes added whimsical drawings called drolleries into the margins of sacred manuscripts. These marginalia included scenes like frogs playing harps, nuns chasing rabbits, and fantastical creatures engaged in playful or absurd activities. How should we interpret these seemingly prankish additions? Scholars disagree. In any case, I recommend you experiment with drolleries of your own, Virgo. Inject improvisation into duty. Add ornament to order. The coming months will reward your serious play. You’ll accomplish more by enjoying the work than by obsessing on perfecting it. A touch of friskiness may even improve efficiency. So when you edit, doodle; when you analyze, wink.

+

VIRGO — PART THREE: The US Library of Congress adds 60,000 items to its collection every week but only catalogs a fraction of them immediately. So vast amounts of knowledge sit there, acquired but not yet processed, waiting for librarians to create the finding aids that make them accessible. You’re in a similar situation, Virgo. You’ve accumulated extraordinary amounts of information, experience, and skill. But how much of it is cataloged? How much is accessible when you need it? In the coming months, I hope you won’t acquire more. Instead, you will spend time with your archives and process what you have already gathered. What do you know that you’ve forgotten you know? What experiences hold wisdom you’ve never extracted?

+

VIRGO — PART FOUR: Ready to decommission your inner censor? Interested in dropping the mask, relaxing your guard, and rewilding your gorgeous but slightly inhibited self? That’s what I recommend. Here are ways to fully enjoy the liberating grace period of the coming months: 1. Don’t deny yourself pleasures that would be healthy to indulge. 2. Shed taboos that were smart safeguards once upon a time but are no longer. 3. Re-evaluate why you treat certain fun activities as questionable. 4. Be brightly compassionate toward aspects of yourself you regard as wounded or inferior. 5. Be receptive to rebellious urges.

LIBRA — PART ONE: Researchers studying music theory know that dissonance—sounds that feel “wrong” or create tension—is in part culturally determined. Indonesia’s gamelan music and Arabic maqam scales are beautiful to audiences that have learned to appreciate them. But they might seem off-kilter to Westerners accustomed to music filled with major thirds and triads. Let’s use this as our starting point as we contemplate your future in 2026, Libra. Life may disrupt your assumptions about what constitutes balance and harmony. You will be invited to consider the possibility that what seems like discord from one perspective is attractive and valuable from another. My advice: Open your mind to other ways of evaluating what’s meaningful and attractive.

+

LIBRA — PART TWO: Italy’s Orto Botanico di Padova is the world’s oldest botanical garden still in its original location. Since its inception 480 years ago, it has been a center for botanical research, education, and conservation. Its layout is striking, a square-inscribed in a circle, symbolizing harmonious order. In the coming months, Libra, you will be wise to associate yourself intimately with a similar wonder: an enduring source of beauty and revelation that you can both serve and benefit from.

+

LIBRA — PART THREE: Vault doors often require two keys, turned simultaneously, to open. Why? Such a practice furthers risk reduction and fraud prevention. Let’s make this a potent metaphor for you in 2026, Libra. It will symbolize cooperation and balance as well as an enhancement of your security. The treasures you’ll be trying to access will require dual input. One key is yours: intellect, agility, charm, initiative. The second must come from a collaborator, mentor, friend, an unexpected stranger, or even a spirit guide. Just assume that the vault won’t open through brilliance alone. It will require synchronization.

+

LIBRA — PART FOUR: In 1839, French artist Louis Daguerre perfected the daguerreotype, an early type of photography. The images were so detailed that you could count the threads in a subject’s clothing. The only downside: They required minutes of perfect stillness to capture. A slight twitch or squirm could blur the picture. People held their breath and resisted the urge to fidget, hoping to preserve the magic moment. In this spirit, Libra, let’s make the long exposure your power metaphor during the coming months. The most useful truths will reveal themselves best if you give them time to develop. In conversations, resist filling every silence. In projects, don’t rush the pace. Have patient fun lingering on the threshold as the mysteries coalesce and clarify.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

SCORPIO — PART ONE: In the Sonoran Desert of the southwestern United States, Arizona bark scorpions are hard to see at night. Scientists who want to study them can find them only by searching with flashlights that emit ultraviolet light. This causes the scorpions’ exoskeletons to fluoresce and glow a distinct blue-green or turquoise color, making them highly visible. Let’s use this scenario as a metaphor for you. In the coming months, you may reveal your best brilliance under uncommon conditions. Circumstances that seem unusual or challenging will highlight your true beauty and power. What feels extreme may be a good teacher and helper. I urge you to trust that the right people will recognize your unique beauty.

+

SCORPIO — PART TWO: Astronaut Chris Hadfield has spent 166 days orbiting the Earth in the International Space Station. In the microgravity of outer space, he says, motion is very smooth; objects and people float. He marvels at how everything is always moving, and yet the pace itself is tranquil and unhurried. I foresee you enjoying a lot of this kind of grace in the coming months, Scorpio: momentum without mania; constant fluidic movement that’s never hectic or rushed. What a great privilege! I expect you will rack up many flowing accomplishments.

+

SCORPIO — PART THREE: In December 1968, US astronaut Bill Anders was orbiting the moon inside the Apollo 8 spacecraft. He snapped a photo that showed the Earth as a blue-and-white sphere rising over the gray lunar surface against the blackness of space. This iconic image helped fuel the environmental movement and transformed how humans visualized their home. You’re at a comparable pivot, Scorpio. In 2026, you will see familiar situations from new angles, and this will reorganize your understanding of how life works. That’s a good thing! Be alert for watershed moments that bring revolutionary blessings.

+

SCORPIO — PART FOUR: In 1907, Scorpio artist Pablo Picasso painted Les Demoiselles d’Avignon. It was a work so radically different from his earlier art and from the era’s norms that even his friends were stunned. Some called it ugly; others, incomprehensible. Yet the painting became a foundation of Cubism and reshaped modern art. Dear Scorpio, I suspect you may be on the verge of your own “Les Demoiselles” phase in 2026: unveiling novel approaches and innovative changes so original that they rattle comfortable assumptions. Don’t be discouraged if the initial responses don’t bring you appreciation. The root-shaking breakthroughs you’re consorting with may take others a while to recognize and welcome.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

SAGITTARIUS — PART ONE: According to legend, the genius composer Mozart heard entire symphonies in his imagination before he wrote down any notes. That’s a slight exaggeration. The full truth is that he often worked hard and made revisions. His inspiration was enhanced by effort and craft. However, it’s also true that Mozart wrote at least five masterful works in rapid succession, sometimes with remarkably few corrections on the manuscript. They included his last three symphonies (Nos. 39, 40, and 41). I predict you will have a Mozart-like aptitude in the coming months: the ability to perceive whole patterns before the pieces align. Trust your big visions!

+

SAGITTARIUS — PART TWO: In Kyoto’s famous moss gardens, caretakers practice artful arrangement rather than total removal of shed foliage. They use delicate tools to gather trees’ cast-off leaves and arrange them on the moss to create visual harmony rather than bare tidiness. This approach reflects the Japanese aesthetic principles of embracing imperfection. Supposed “flaws” become part of the beauty of the garden. I propose that you regularly adopt a metaphorically comparable approach in the coming months, Sagittarius. Integrate rather than edit. Be creative with what’s changing form. Treat so-called messes and unexpected plot twists not as blemishes but as rich textures that feel meaningful and inspiring.

+

SAGITTARIUS — PART THREE: The Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland is made of 40,000 interlocking basalt columns formed when ancient lava cooled and contracted. Legend says a giant built it as a bridge to Scotland. Both stories are true, one geologically and the other mythologically. Your life in the coming months will remind you that multiple explanations can coexist without canceling each other. The scientific story of lava cooling doesn’t make the giant story less meaningful. The giant story doesn’t make the geology less accurate. Conclusion: You don’t have to choose between competing narratives about your life as if only one can be true. What if both are? The practical explanation and mythic explanation describe the same phenomenon from different angles. You can be both the cooling lava and the giant building the bridge.

+

SAGITTARIUS — PART FOUR: You Sagittarians are often drawn to teaching. You have a predilection and a passion for sharing what you have learned from your adventures and explorations. Many of you also possess a related gift: helping people make the journey to where enlightening lessons can best occur. You have a knack for opening their minds and clearing the way so they can awaken to new ways of seeing and imagining the world. I hope you will provide both of these blessings in abundance during the coming months. Your ability to inspire and educate will be at a peak.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

CAPRICORN — PART ONE: In Greek mythology, Proteus was a sea god famed for his ability to change his shape endlessly to evade capture. But now and then, a persistent hero was able to hold on to Proteus through all his transformations, whether he became a lion, serpent, tree, or flame. Then the god would bestow the gift of prophecy on the successful daredevil. I suspect that in the coming months, you will have an exceptional power to snag and grasp Proteus-like things, Capricorn. As a result, you could claim help and revelations that seem almost magical.

+

CAPRICORN — PART TWO: A newly planted orchard spends its first year growing roots, not fruit. Underground and unseen, the real work happens. I surmise that’s like what you will be doing in the coming months, Capricorn: mostly invisible stabilization and preparation. If anyone asks you what you’re producing, smile inscrutably and say, “Depth.” Be committed to the quiet, hidden work rather than any showy song and dance. As my rough and rugged spirit guide Esther likes to say, “You don’t got to prove nothin’ to nobody!” The nourishment you will be storing up will sustain later abundance.

+

CAPRICORN — PART THREE: Computer scientist Tim Berners-Lee invented the World Wide Web. He helped ensure its core technologies were released to the world without patents or royalties. Universal, open access mattered more to him than personal profit. That single decision was a profound gift to the world. Billions benefited. In his generous spirit, dear Capricorn, I’ll ask whether there are any ideas, knowledge, or resources you’re holding in reserve that could multiply through sharing. In 2026, I invite you to be like Berners-Lee: a magnanimous strategist who understands that things may gain value through distribution, not restriction. Your intelligence will be worth more unleashed than protected. Your innovations will need the crowd to fulfill their purpose

+

CAPRICORN — PART FOUR: The coming months are ripe for sacred audacity: boldness with a conscience and courage guided by kindness. Imagine you’re a Benevolent Initiator, whose superpower is to kindle beginnings without causing disruption and unease. Practice brilliant, incremental nudges and tweaks rather than grand interventions. If you’re hesitating to say what needs to be said, deliver a modest version now and a stronger one later. Make gradual momentum your ally. Homework: Identify a future scene you want to generate and take three elegantly simple steps toward it.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

AQUARIUS — PART ONE: In Florence, Italy, the Accademia Gallery houses several of Michelangelo’s sculptures that depict human figures partially emerging from rough blocks of marble. They seem to be caught in the process of birth or liberation. These works showcase the technique Michelangelo called non-finito (unfinished), in which the forms appear to struggle to escape from the stone. In the coming months, Aquarius, I foresee you undergoing a passage that initially resembles these figures. The good news is that unlike Michelangelo’s eternally trapped characters, you will eventually break free.

+

AQUARIUS — PART TWO: Engineers may engage in “stress testing.” They evaluate a system’s hardiness and reliability by subjecting it to pressure or force. I suspect that life will bring you a benevolent version of this trial in the coming months, Aquarius. That’s a good thing! It’s not meant to break you, but to prove how much resilience you have developed. Situations that might have formerly cracked your confidence will affirm and reveal your upgraded endurance. Take note of your composure and congratulate yourself for it. You will have every right to exult in the vivid evidence of how much you’ve grown.

+

AQUARIUS — PART THREE: In the myths of Mali’s Dogon people, Nommo is an amphibious, telepathic being who brought language, rhythm, and balance to Earth—and then departed. If things fall out of harmony, it’s believed, Nommo will return, speaking the lost syllables that realign the cosmos. You’re a bit like Nommo these days, Aquarius. Parts of your world may be in disarray, and your sacred task is to listen for the lost syllables. What’s missing in the dialogue? What notes aren’t being sung? If you seek gently and speak truly, restoration will follow.

+

AQUARIUS — PART FOUR: Safety isn’t the opposite of adventure. It’s the infrastructure that lets adventure be expansive. Keep that in mind in the coming months, Aquarius. You will be wise to cultivate cozy bravery. You should relax deeply and nurture your strength. Build the support system for your future boldness. Then, in the second half of 2026, you will be well-prepared to launch a phase of experimental fun and exploratory learning. For best results, surround yourself with love and care. Decide who best supports you and make it attractive for them to support you.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

PISCES — PART ONE: To prepare you for 2026, I’ve gathered three quotes that address your most pressing need and urgent mandate. I recommend you tape this horoscope to your bathroom mirror. 1. “We cannot live in a world interpreted for us by others. An interpreted world is not a hope. Part of the terror is to take back our listening, to use our own voice, to see our own light.” —author Elaine Bellezza. 2. “To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson. 3. “The ability to tell your own story, in words or images, is already a victory, already a revolt.” —Rebecca Solnit.

+

PISCES — PART TWO: Piscean author Anaïs Nin wrote, “Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source.” Apply her counsel dynamically during the coming months, dear Pisces. Be the great replenisher. Make yourself into a fountain of beauty as you share lavishly. Nurture tenderness and adoration with unexpected flowers, gorgeous music in the midst of the routine, and affection expressed through artful thoughtfulness. Be brilliant and persistent in ensuring that love thrives. Your elegant generosity and fond attention should enrich everything you touch.

+

PISCES — PART THREE: The longest chess game theoretically possible is 5,949 moves, but most games end in under 40. Chess masters don’t win by seeing every possibility. Instead, they recognize patterns and anticipate which paths are worth exploring. Let’s apply this as a useful metaphor, Pisces. In 2026, it’s crucial that you don’t waste energy by considering improbable scenarios that will never materialize. You should be determined not to miss emerging themes because you’re too busy calculating unlikely variations. According to my prognosis, you don’t need to see further; you need to see more precisely and accurately. The chess master’s advantage isn’t exhaustive analysis; it’s knowing what to ignore. Ninety percent of your options don’t matter. Ten percent do.

+

PISCES — PART FOUR: High in the Andes Mountains, farmers have for centuries made chuño, a freeze-dried potato that can last for years. They leave the potatoes outside overnight to let the freezing temperatures draw out the water. In the daytime, the strong sunlight and dry mountain air evaporate residual moisture. By this process, a perishable food becomes a long-lasting staple. I propose we make the chuño your symbol of power, Pisces. The coming months will be an ideal time to build reserves. I hope you will turn what you have grown and developed into resources that will nourish you well into the future.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •