Sun in Taurus

The Bull carries the Pleiades on its shoulder, the little cluster of the Seven Sisters, and its eye is Aldebaran, a red star bright enough to find from a city street. In the northern fields where the zodiac began, Taurus is the fixed sign of spring: the weeks when everything that was going to come up has come up and simply stands there in leaf.

Your Sun moves at that speed. You knew in the first minute, about the house, the job, the plan, and you have not changed your mind since.

What lasts

At work you turn up where you said you would, you remember what was agreed, and your pulse barely moves when the deadline does. Plenty of faster projects are dug up the next spring. Yours are still standing. Nobody has ever hurried you into a good decision, and you are still living in the ones you made slowly. You remember how a thing was done last time, and why, and your quiet “we tried that” has saved more money than anyone has thanked you for.

What things are worth

You know what things are worth, and what they cost to keep. You notice the weight of a good knife and the grain of an old table, and you would rather own one thing that lasts twenty years than ten that last one. Money, to you, is time made solid, and you spend it slowly. Friends ask your opinion before they buy anything that matters. Venus rules this sign, so you have taste as well as sense, and you trust both.

Dug in

Pushed, you dig in, and once you have dug in you defend a position long after you have privately stopped believing it, because moving now would look like losing. You stay in the job, the arrangement, the old way of doing it, a year or two past its best. A new idea waits on your doorstep for weeks before you let it in.

When you do change, the change is total. People who knew you before are always surprised, and you never are: you had been deciding for a year.