ARIES (March 21-April 19)  “The flower doesn’t dream of the bee. It blossoms and the bee comes.” So says poet and philosopher Mark Nepo in The Book of Awakening. Now I’m transmitting his observation to you. I hope it will motivate you to expend less energy fantasizing about what you want and devote more energy to becoming the beautiful, useful, irresistible presence that will attract what you want. The coming weeks will be an excellent time to make plans to produce very specific blossoms.

TAURUS (April 20–May 20)  Budi Waseso, the former head of the Indonesian government’s anti-narcotics division, had a radical plan to prevent escapes by people convicted of drug-related crimes. He sought to build detention centers that would be surrounded by moats filled with crocodiles and piranhas. But his replacement, Heru Winarko, has a different approach. He wants addicts and dealers to receive counseling in comfortable rehabilitation centers. I hope that in the coming weeks, as you deal with weaknesses, flaws, and sins—both your own and others’—you’ll opt for an approach more like Winarko’s than Waseso’s.

GEMINI (May 21–June 20)  In one sense, a “patron saint” is a Catholic saint who is a heavenly advocate for a person, group, activity, thing or place. St. Jude is the patron saint of lost causes, for instance. St. Francis of Assisi is the guardian of animal welfare, and St. Kentigern is the protector against verbal abusers. “Patron saint” may also be invoked poetically to refer to a person who serves as a special guide or influence. For example, in one of his short stories, Nathaniel Hawthorne refers to a veteran nurse as “the patron saint of young physicians.” In accordance with current astrological omens, I invite you to fantasize about persons, groups, activities, things or places for whom you might be the patron saint. To spur your imagination, here are some appropriate possibilities. You could be the patron saint of the breeze at dawn; of freshly picked figs; of singing humorous love songs in the sunlight; of unpredictable romantic adventures; of life-changing epiphanies while hiking in nature; of soul-stirring music.

CANCER (June 21–July 22)   In August 1933, author Virginia Woolf wrote a critical note to her friend, the composer Ethel Smyth, lamenting her lack of emotional subtlety. “For you,” Woolf told Smyth, “either things are black, or they’re white; either they’re sobs or shouts—whereas, I always glide from semi-tone to semi-tone.” In the coming weeks, fellow Cancerian, you may encounter people who act like Smyth. But it will be your sacred duty, both to yourself and to life, to remain loyal and faithful to the rich complexity of your feelings.

LEO (July 23–August 22)  “People think of education as something they can finish,” said writer and scientist Isaac Asimov, who wrote or edited over 500 books. His point was that we’re wise to be excited about learning new lessons as long as we’re on this earth. To cultivate maximum vitality, we should always be engaged in the processes of absorbing new knowledge and mastering new skills and deepening our understanding. Does that sound appealing to you, Leo? I hope so, especially in the coming weeks, when you will have an enhanced ability to see the big picture of your future needs for education.

VIRGO (August 23–September 22)  Virgo businessman Warren Buffet is among the top five wealthiest people on the planet. In an average year, his company Berkshire Hathaway adds $36 billion to its already swollen coffers. But in 2017, thanks to the revision of the U.S. tax code by President Trump and his buddies, Buffet earned $65 billion—an increase of 83 percent over his usual haul. According to my analysis of the astrological omens, you’re entering a yearlong phase when your financial chances could have a mild resemblance to Buffet’s 2017. I’m not predicting your earnings will increase by 83 percent. But 15 percent isn’t unreasonable. So start planning how you’ll do it!

LIBRA (September 23–October 22)  As he stepped up to use an ATM in a supermarket, a Scottish man named Colin Banks found £30 (about $40 U.S.) that the person who used the machine before him had inadvertently neglected to take. But rather than pocketing it, Banks turned it in to a staff member, and eventually the cash was reunited with its proper owner. Shortly after performing his good deed, Bank won £50,000 (about $64,500 U.S.) in a game of chance. It was instant karma in dramatic action—the positive kind! My analysis of the astrological omens reveals that you’re more likely than usual to benefit from expeditious cosmic justice like that. That’s why I suggest you intensify your commitment to doing good deeds.

SCORPIO (October 23–November 21)  As you dive down into your soul’s depths in quest for renewal, remember this testimony from poet Scherezade Siobhan: “I want to dig out what is ancient in me, the mistaken-for-monster . . . and let it teach me how to be unafraid again.” Are you brave and brazen enough to do that yourself? It’s an excellent time to douse your fear by drawing wild power from the primal sources of your life. To earn the right to soar through the heights in November and December, delve as deep as you can in the coming weeks.

SAGITTARIUS (November 22–December 21)  According to author Elizabeth Gilbert, here’s “the central question upon which all creative living hinges: do you have the courage to bring forth the treasures that are hidden within you?” When I read that thought, my first response was, why are the treasures hidden? Shouldn’t they be completely obvious? My second response was, why do you need courage to bring forth the treasures? Shouldn’t that be the easiest and most enjoyable task imaginable? Everything you just read is a perfect riddle for you to contemplate during the next 14 months, Sagittarius.

CAPRICORN (December 22–January 19)  A blogger named Sage Grace offers her readers a list of “cool things to call me besides cute.” They include dazzling, alluring, sublime, magnificent and exquisite. Is it OK if I apply those same adjectives to you, Capricorn? I’d like to add a few more, as well: resplendent, delightful, intriguing, magnetic and incandescent. I hope that in response you don’t flinch with humility or protest that you’re not worthy of such glorification. According to my astrological analysis, now is one of those times when you deserve extra appreciation for your idiosyncratic appeal and intelligence. Tell your allies and loved ones that I said so. Inform them, too, that giving you this treatment could help mobilize one of your half-asleep potentials.

AQUARIUS (January 20–February 18)  Many educated Americans and Europeans think of reincarnation as a loony delusion, even though it’s a cornerstone of spiritual belief for over 1.5 billion earthlings. I myself regard it as a hypothesis worthy of intelligent consideration, although I’d need hundreds of pages to explain my version of it. However you imagine it, Aquarius, you now have extra access to knowledge and skills and proclivities you possessed in what we might refer to as your “past lives”—especially in those past lives in which you were an explorer, maverick, outlaw or pioneer. I bet you’ll feel freer and more experimental than usual during the next four weeks.

PISCES (February 19–March 20)  “When the winds of change blow,” says a Chinese proverb, “some people build walls while others build windmills.” Since the light breezes of change may soon evolve into brisk gusts of change in your vicinity, I wanted to bring this thought to your attention. Will you be more inclined to respond by constructing walls or windmills? I don’t think it would be foolish for you to favor the walls, but in the long run I suspect that windmills would serve you better.

Q: I’m a 22-year-old guy, but I look 14. Boomer co-workers often use me as an example of a bad millennial, attacking me for Dread Smartphone Overuse (conveniently forgetting that our work requires phone use). Older co-workers often launch into unsolicited 40-minute lectures on the “college path” I should take. (Already graduated, thanks!) How can I gracefully deal with this demeaning treatment?—Irritated

A: It’s no surprise some of your older co-workers smear you as a “bad millennial.” You’re younger and cheaper to keep around, and the hair on your head isn’t there thanks to a Groupon for Dr. Hair Plugs. So, yes, some of them probably do want to stick it to you. But for a little perspective on these unsolicited lectures on the value of the higher education you’ve already gotten, consider my critical take on what’s come to be called “mansplaining.” Merriam-Webster defines this as a man’s explaining “something to a woman in a condescending way that assumes she has no knowledge about the topic.”

As I see it, there’s a problem with this interpretation, and it’s the rather victim-thinky assumption that a man’s tone and line of blather are driven by his having little respect for a woman simply because she’s a woman. Sure, that could be the case. However, I’m with my evolutionary psychologist friend Diana Fleischman, who tweeted: “There’s already a word for mansplaining. It’s called being patronizing. And I’m as good at it as any man.”

Say some dude in a bar starts instructifying me (somewhat in error) on evolutionary psychology research, work by a researcher I know and whose papers I have been reading for going on 20 years. Chances are, Mr. Bar Dude does not have psychic powers and is probably just trying to sound knowledgeable and interesting to a chick in a bar.

Well, the same probably goes for your colleagues launching into these higher-ed-splainings. This doesn’t mean you have to go all ear-slave for them. Put your hand up—the international sign for “Would you kindly shut your big trap for a second?”—and say, “Thanks, appreciate your wanting to help.” Next, add some polite form of “Been there! Graduated that!” You might also give some consideration to your look. I’m not saying you should wear a monocle and carry a cane, but maybe grow a little facial hair and dress and accessorize like an adult. (Yes, this means avoiding T-shirts and Spider-Man backpacks and anything else that makes you look like a 14-year-old with a beard.)

Finally, there’s a little secret to getting treated as somebody’s equal, and it’s acting the part. If some graying co-workers makes age-related cracks about your tech usage, don’t go all woundypants. Laugh and tease ’em right back and tell them they should cut the hints and just ask you directly when they want your tech-savvy millennial help with texting nudies from their side-entry bathtub.

Q: I’m a bisexual 29-year-old woman. I just started dating an awesome guy and ultimately see myself in a long-term hetero relationship. However, though I’ve only dated a girl once, I am extremely aroused by women, and now I’m struggling to get turned on with my new partner.—Blahs

A: There’s an elephant in the room, but unfortunately, it isn’t the kind you can climb on and ride off to the nearest girl bar. Sexual orientation, as explained by Kinsey Institute research fellow Justin Lehmiller in Tell Me What You Want, is “the degree to which we are biologically predisposed to desiring men, women, both, or neither.” There’s another factor in play—“sexual flexibility”—which Lehmiller describes as “a willingness to deviate not only from our sexual orientation but also from what our culture and society have told us we should want when it comes to sex.”

You may see yourself in that classic hetero relationship out of a ’50s magazine ad, mommy, daddy, picket fence, and the rest. Unfortunately, wanting to be turned on by somebody isn’t enough to make it happen. Remove the labels from the equation—lesbian, bi, hetero—and figure out the physical characteristics that need to be present for you to be attracted to another person. Maybe it’s just this dude who doesn’t work for you, or maybe no dude would do it for you. Be honest with yourself about that, even if it would muck up your current relationship plan. For a relationship to be viable, the thing you say to your boyfriend in bed should not be: “Hey, honey, know what would really turn me on? If you left the room and sent Felicia in here in your place.”

Got a problem? Write Amy Alkon at 171 Pier Ave. #280, Santa Monica, CA 90405, or email ad*******@*ol.com. @amyalkon on Twitter. Weekly radio show, blogtalkradio.com/amyalkon.