Mother is a Verb. A Fertile Mind. Brain Child. The Mothers of Invention.
I had a lot of alternate titles for this astro report. Just as a mom can love all of her children the same amount, but differently, there are MANY ways to TALK and THINK about this new moon that aid GROWTH. I love them all, but I had to pick.
We have a weird lunation coming up. It’s a Cancer/Gemini dealio. Weird but workable. Wonderful and powerful if you can keep your head in the game while exposing the soft underbelly of your feelings.
This Cancer new moon occurs in the constellation (astronomy) of Gemini conjunct Mercury. This looks brilliant for new beginnings. New beginnings that are emotionally connected, which means impact. There is a tendency to only think of the deeply emotional, and inherently nurturing qualities of Cancer. It is the watery sign of the home, the family, the mother, and the past. We tend to forget that it’s a cardinal sign too, which means ACTION. When you put a strong emotion behind an action you get results. In fact in some ancient astrology practices Cancer, not Aries, is the leading sign of the zodiac. Pair this new moon with the summer solstice (which happened on 6/21) and you have fertile ground. THINK carefully about what you want to plant. It will grow (poisonous plants and weeds do happen). We have unusual abilities to synthesize head and heart during this time.
Even though this moon has a lemony-fresh-clean-slate smell, it is not pure. Let’s consider that healthy dose of Gemini in the mix. The seeds that are planted in that fecund new moon Cancer soil look like they’re coming from thought forms, communication, ideas, and mixing it up with people who snap us out of ruts and outworn thinking. Cancer and Gemini have very little (ok nothing) in common, but it’s not complicated.
Here are some possible combinations for this odd couple (and a little astro test to see if you can identify the Gemini in the Cancer):
Inventing new definitions of home, family, and the maternal.
Ferociously protecting our right to live and love creatively.
Using language to nurture and bring all different types of people together.
Analyzing emotionally entrenched patterns from our past objectively to aid the process of change.
Feeding our ability to be flexible.
Allowing ourselves to remain vulnerable when threatening ideas trigger an emotional defense response. Getting curious about knee-jerk reactions.
And there will be knee-jerk reactions. I can’t speak to the meteorological climate this summer, but it will be emotionally hot. Cancer represents what’s unconscious and closest to the bone. It’s our emotional security. It’s the parts of us that formed before we could say our name (that’s the 5th sign, Leo). It’s the instinct to survive, which is why it’s so powerful...for better or worse. Its symbol is the crab. That little guy who takes its home everywhere it goes. Whose insides are as gushy as its shell is impervious; who sometimes forgets that what makes it feel safe can also be what makes it feel burdened. The Gemini influence on this new moon is a gift. It will help us catch ourselves in the act of reacting, and give us the opportunity to practice responding with inquisitiveness. It will throw us a life raft if the emotional waters get too choppy.
Use this time to feather your nests, nourish yourselves, and each other. Get your homes and tribes in order by having conversations about your feelings. We’ll all need soft places to land this summer. We can create those spaces for each other and ourselves by finding points of connection and building bridges. But if we can’t find the courage to question our friends and ourselves in a most vulnerable way, we can’t know our deepest needs much less meet them. We’ll go hungry. A good mama doesn’t let her babies go hungry.
What are you pregnant with? What are you midwifing? What are you feeding? What are you keeping safe?
THE BIG QUESTION:
Can we figure out a way to fortify the real seat of security, and invest less in representations of safety that are mere illusions?
How we’ve always done it.
How we’re comfortable doing it.
Locking it down.
Locking it up.
Making our external environment “just so.”
Basically, all of those examples are just examples of a lack of curiosity...not taking in the new.
When Cancer goes awry, it’s in these types of ways. Clinging to precedent and tradition; using them as talismans of safety and ignoring the one place where safety lives. It only lives in constant change. Cancer knows this in its DNA. It’s the sign of the moon, tides, and cycles. Cancer in its most healthy and natural expression feels safe because things are always changing. When we can feel comfortable in the midst of constant change, there is less to feel threatened about.
Happy new moon and summer solstice. May we find our sense of security in our curiosity and adaptability. XC