My son’s best friend’s mother is entering hospice. During this highly emotional sky (double Cancer), I feel her. I feel the pain of her family. I notice how my mind runs off to their house in my imagination and I often am holding space.
His mother is being very private–not speaking to anyone but family…and so she should be. She wants no one included in this very vulnerable time.
What is it about our society that Death is denied? Is it because Death is ugly and mean? It’s never an easy topic to address–ever. I could skate over this issue and not speak to my/our pain (honestly, I think there is death all around all of us), and I am a responsible astrologer with Saturn in Sag, so I have to say it:
As a collective, we are headed north, looking straight into a fog, with our collective headlights on high-beam in desperate fear that perhaps we are lost—yet not willing to talk about it.
To say I am in pain and I am sad is true–but it’s not just because of that mom who is sick. Truth is: there is so much more going on. We are all feeling it.
Wedding dates have been changed, graduation gatherings are off, everything with group fun has been left behind. No traveling, no movies, no concerts or sporting events. Is this life’s way of sobering us, demanding that we feel?
Welcome double Cancer sky.
All those suffering from COVID-19, from racism and inequality. All those suffering from a fear of the future, financial strain, the pain of not enough love or fresh water. It’s just so sad.
Cancer is the sign of compassion, and an eclipse is here. Time to feel.
Is it a time to pause (welcome Mercury retrograde) and to slow down? Astrologically, it sure is: it is time.
There have been four planets going retrograde (Venus, Jupiter, Saturn and Pluto), many of them lasting all the way through September. This week we added one more–five planets–as Mercury is retrograde now.
You try walking backwards…you can’t without having to go very slowly and deliberately.
I am slowing down. I think all of us are realizing we have to.
This life is vulnerable. We are living in the times of absent leadership and tradition meltdown.
I was told hard science and numbers were solid, that there were trusted leaders and wisdom keepers who inevitably nail down our values and integrity. I thought that we had deep-rooted values that were staked in the ground by our forefathers. I really believed our North American society was solid as a mountain. What a silly dream.
My son came in to tell me that today hospice is arriving at her house, dare I say it—it may be true for our world too. Are we dated? Do we need convalescing?
Our old world is gone.
Hard to swallow, easy to avoid. Can we talk about this? The world has shifted.
Under this sky the message is: it’s okay to be sad. It’s even healthy, said double Cancer.
Can you imagine being raised as a young being with: “It’s okay to be sad. Life is short. I am going to love you forever, unconditionally, every day of your life”—and mean it?
Cancer is the quintessential mother energy that just loves life, loves you no matter what.
I am going to emotionally plead with you to open up to your vulnerability. How can you open?
I want to hold your hand. I want to say to my son’s friend’s mother: Keep your eyes open, feel the love, let go. This next journey is going to be so much better than you can imagine. But we do not talk about death like that.
Surrender. Cry. Be scared. Get mad. Feel.
This is a new moon. Let there not be a dry eye in the house.
We are in this together. I want you to know its okay to cry. Maybe I am talking to myself.
A true Cancer is strong enough to be vulnerable.
It takes far more courage to be real and tender than fake and strong.
I challenge you to find that courage.
I am sad. Yet, I know,
The stars have our back.
Life has our back.
They always have,
They always will.
In faith — I am sharing mine with you, lean in,