Written in the stars

When I was in middle school, I picked up my first astrology book from the Waldenbooks that once stood within the Farmington Mall. Titled, “The Only Astrology Book You’ll Ever Need,” it lived up to its name. Through the various charts and passages, I felt the book offered crucial insight to aspects of my current and future self, while also shedding light on the possibilities that existed within potential relationships. Like the high one might get from the sound of swishing water before turning over their fortune-telling Magic 8 Ball, the sound of the pages turning became exhilarating. These pages provided safety for the many questions a queer child who was coming of age wanted to ask but couldn’t. I came to recognize Wednesday as my “lucky” day, that my first gay crush was a Scorpio, and that we could have good cosmic energy if we ever got together (I’m still keeping my fingers crossed on this one!) My days felt like they had some order to them – that I could expect certain periods to be better than others. However, this interest further separated me from some family members who thought less of astrology. But like my queerness, it was simply another thing to keep hidden toward some and open toward others.

What I can’t recall is how much truth or how much doubt I placed in this book. In addition to being a safe space, I believe this was more about trying to have fun while also trying to make sense of a world that seemed to shift in response to two key moments: 911 and the Columbine High School shooting. Both happened at prime times during my childhood, and both happened during the school day.

In time, I moved away from astrology. I still enjoy reading my horoscope from time to time and find myself appreciating the ones within this paper. It wasn’t until last fall that I wrote my first horoscope. It was for a class group project in Spanish that aimed at giving us practice time with verbs conjugated in the future tense. Applicable to any sign, I wrote this originally in Spanish with my group:

“Good morning, (insert any sign)! Now that the harvest season is over, what are you going to do? Will you stay at home, resting after a year of hard work? Will you go back to the countryside to see what extra work you can find? Or will you go searching for greener pastures? We advise you to rest and keep your ideas inside until spring arrives. We know that you have strong desires and ambitions to do as you please, but we hope that you keep these suggestions in your mind, and in your heart. Someday, you may need them.”

Revisiting this, I realize now how much I was actually speaking to myself. Through offering advice to others, I was asking for some self-care. But since writing it, self-care has not been at the top of my list of priorities. But I feel differently now – a bit more optimistic as of the past week. With the potential of a Kamala Harris presidency, I realize now that I have been holding my breath for some time, as if I’ve been driving in white-out conditions for the past year – vision skewed, roads treacherous. But I can now ease into a sense of comfort. It’s been a long time since I last felt this, recalling a similar feeling when I outlined my fortune within the pages of an astrology book. I am aware that her nomination does not guarantee her win, nor does her presidency guarantee a resolution to the problems of the nation. However, I’m hopeful again for the future, and I’m excited to see how the stars align in November.