What makes a home a home? Is it the soft brush of a shaggy rug under the balls of your feet? The skin that cracks between your fingers after washing too many dishes? The satisfaction of pulling that last speck of dust from that tiny corner crevice? Is it the eyes that light up when you walk in the door, the call to dinner at the bottom of the stairs, or the arms that fold over you in the light of a waxing moon through the window as you breathe deeply into sleep?

This week, Venus, goddess of love and beauty begins her recovery story from her recent retrograde. In the process, she forms a strong square to Saturn, father of our foundations, will-writer of our walls, keeper of our keys which we earn by hiking the moral high-ground. Together, the two are asking you to take on a very particular kind of spring cleaning. Propelled by the Sun’s entrance into the bountiful bliss that is Taurus, we are in prime position to examine our relationship to the things that help us feel safe and loved. Hint: the latter is the passport to the former and vice versa. Pending Pluto’s retrograde station Thursday morning, this week tackles authority head-on with the horns of a bull, the transience of a fish’s tale, and the sense of a sage.

The Mother of Pentacles causes us to consider the life we work for. Are we working to live or living to work? What kinds of labor leave you lost? Better still, which spiritual and humble exercises bring you gratitude, contentment, even pleasure? Mother of Pentacles encourages you to seek that which makes you feel at home. Treasure the trinkets that chime just for you, but untie the trifles that cause the rest to feel a mess. Ask for what you need. Find beauty in boundaries. When all feels lost, hold tight to the soft endurance the Mother of Pentacles provides. Watch your worry wither in the face of time as it attends to every wound and leaves the faintest scar that was worth the work to heal.