The door drifts open before your hand finds the latch, as if the air already knew your name. Jupiter, the part that trusts and widens with no effort spent, runs at a clean angle to the rising horizon in your chart. What costs others a great heave simply travels in your way of appearing: the largeness walks into the room at your side without needing to announce a thing. People read you from across the floor as easy to like, the kind of person good fortune seems to trail over the sill. It is not a prize. It is a channel. The way you arrive at the world comes with room to spare already built into the step.