Hour of the Pig

The secret self

Those born in this double-hour carry the Pig as their hidden hour-self, the private creature only the closest people meet. The clock remembers it like this:

• Born in the Pig hour, your secret self knows that pleasure is not a sin and never has been. Under whatever face you show, there is the warmest of the twelve, the one who keeps the table long and pours another glass.
• The late-night animal in you is honest to the point of bluntness and generous so habitually it sometimes leaves you short. The gift is warmth; the shadow is the trust given to the wrong person more than once.
• Your hidden hour is the hour of rest and contentment, the last before the date turns. There is a real intelligence under the softness, easy to underestimate, and a body that has decided life is for living.
• Inside you is an indulgence that can become avoidance, the long lunch instead of the hard message, the comfort eaten instead of felt. Your secret self forgives the unforgivable; keep some of that mercy for yourself.
• The Pig in late night has the spare room, the extra plate, the best the table can offer. Your secret self believes the best about people longer than is reasonable. Have the hard talk between the courses, not after.

More on the Pig

Soft pink skin, soft warm laugh, a body that knows pleasure is not a sin and never has been. The Pig is the warmest of the twelve, the one who keeps the table long, who pours another glass, who knows the recipe by heart. There is an honesty in this one so old it gets mistaken for naïveté, a generosity so habitual it sometimes leaves the Pig short. You will hear about hedonism, about easy living, about a love of comfort. All true and all a little patronizing. The fuller story is a creature that has decided life is for living and shares the living freely. The Pig will feed you, will house you, will believe the best about you longer than is reasonable, which is sometimes a gift and sometimes a cost.