A long conversation across a small table, two cups gone cold, and both of you walking away with something neither one carried in. Your best thinking happens in company, since Mercury falls in your seventh house, the house of the other across the table and the agreement that needs two voices. An idea barely exists for you until someone is sitting opposite it. This is why you choose your talking partners with such care, often without naming it: they are your teachers as much as your friends, and a dull one dulls you. Lean on the other voice for everything, though, and your own mind goes quiet when the room empties, as if thought needs a witness to begin. So spend real time alone with a page first. Work the position out until it is yours, then carry it in to be sharpened against someone good. A genuine meeting of minds is one of the deep pleasures of an adult life, and you happen to be unusually gifted at it. Treat it as the craft it actually is.