Candlelight on a wooden table, two plates set, and no pressure to fill the quiet with talk. Venus lives in your fourth house, the kitchen of the soul, the place where the ancestral pulse runs under the floorboards, and so your tenderness gathers around home and the people you let all the way inside it. The way you receive someone through the door is a craft you have practiced without naming it. Your kitchen is a kind of love letter written in steam and salt. You do not need a full house to feel whole, you need the right two or three to know exactly where you keep the spare key. The slide from hosting into performing is what wears you thin, scrubbing and rehearsing until you are spent before the first guest even knocks. Gather less often and more honestly. The warmth you hand out in your own living room is a faithful map of your inner life when no one is watching, which means it had better be hospitable to you as well.