Scorpio. Sit, sinner. Yes, the chair facing the door, of course. April is opposite season for you — Sun in Taurus by mid-month — which means the universe has its flashlight on the long-haul commitments of your life and is asking you to look at them squarely. The marriage. The mortgage. The friendship that’s been you carrying it for two years. The job you’ve been outgrowing for eight months and not naming. Madonn’, my creature, the comfort of denial is about to expire.
The Sun’s in Aries the front three weeks and Aries is loud, surface, fast, and you, sweet thing, find the loud surface fast energy a little exhausting. Your move this stretch is not to engage with the noise. Let the Aries do their Aries things. Don’t take their bluntness personally — it isn’t about you. Save your intensity for what actually deserves it. Saint Mary Magdalene for the women who see too much and stay anyway — light her on a Friday.
Week one is for the test you’ve been giving people without telling them. The small wound to see how they handle it. The silence to see if they chase. My dirty Madonna, this month, say it directly instead. To one specific person. “This is what I needed. This is what hurt. This is what I want.” The ones who can take the direct speech will love you better. The ones who can’t were going to fail the silent test eventually anyway. Saves you time.
Week two — the basement. You’ve been carrying a heavy thing nobody knows about. A grief. A betrayal. A regret. A secret that’s sitting on your chest at 2am. Sweetheart. Tell one person. I don’t care who. The trusted friend, the priest, the therapist, the sister, me at the folding table in Asbury on a Tuesday night. The Scorpio basement is sacred ground and also a place that needs occasional ventilation or it rots you from the inside. Light Saint Rita — patron of impossible causes — and speak the heavy thing aloud once. You’ll feel the room get bigger.
Mid-April, around the 19th, the Sun moves into Taurus and opposite season formally opens for you. The relationships in your life are all under the spotlight. The marriages, the partnerships, the long-term contracts, the deepest friendships. Some of them will deepen. Some will reveal themselves as needing to end. You’ll feel the difference in your gut, not your head. Trust the gut. It’s never wrong. The head will talk you back into staying — the gut already knows.
Late April, somebody is going to apologize for something old. Or you’re going to want to apologize for something old. Forgive one person you cut off. Just one. The least poisonous one. The one you cut for pride, not survival. Send the text. Two sentences. You don’t have to reopen the friendship. You just have to release the grudge. The grudge is a room you live in, sweetheart, and it’s smaller than you remember. Saint Anthony for the people you lost on purpose.
The new moon at the end of the month is in Taurus, in your house of the other. Whatever you commit to in the days around it — or uncommit from — has root. Don’t sleepwalk through this one. The Scorpio who makes the conscious choice in late April is the Scorpio who has clean ground by summer. The one who lets it happen to her is the Scorpio carrying weight she didn’t choose for the rest of the year.
The basement is sacred ground, sweet thing. But come up for dinner. Saint Mary Magdalene rides with you. Saint Rita for the impossible. The ones who love you can take more truth than you give them credit for. Try them. Just one. This month.