Crab Season

Astrology is one of my hobbies of study, something I find fascinating and rich but not enough to make my profession. From an archetypal, depth perspective, the wheel of astrology offers a clock of the movement of energy and themes that rise up in our personal and collective experiences. Currently, the sun is moving through the sign of Cancer. Each of us has every sign in our natal charts, so Cancer is within some domain of life, and the sun invites us to look at how these themes play out and could transform within the house that Cancer rules for you.

The astrological sign of Cancer encompasses an energy of exquisite sensitivity and ferocity. The shell of the crab is tough, giving the creature protection and structure as well as arming its pinchers so that anyone who dares to startle, transgress, or overpower a crab when it’s not prepared may find itself missing chunks of flesh quite quickly. As a water sign, Cancer would seem in its element, yet by its nature it learns to defend against the world of water with strict protections and defenses. Yet if the crab is to grow, it must husk this shell and learn to accepts its with complete vulnerability and tenderness, until it can form a new, more spacious protection.

My observation of those with strong Cancer energy tends to be this surprising mixture of sensitivity and ferocious protection. They may enjoy joining in on sarcasm and shit-talking until someone hits a sensitive spot, and then out come the claws and the withdrawal to safety.

As a fresh wound is so sensitive that our bodies instinctively move to protect it, so too is the emotional world of Cancer, and perhaps all the water signs—what some might experience as an accidental jostle, or maybe a mild bruise, the Cancer experiences as a deep physical and emotional injury. So intense is the experience of pain that the first response may be that of outrage, of believing that they were hurt on purpose, and to express their hurt directly to the person responsible would only make them vulnerable to more torture. So the anger comes out crabwise, sideways, indirectly through other conflicts, or through passive-aggression.

Those who are within the Cancer’s circle of trust and love experience an almost overwhelming outpouring of love, nurturing, and sweetness. The sexual, sensual, romantic, and nurturing nature of Cancer is intoxicating. They will shower their loved ones with affection and extravagance, often to their own detriment, and when they do not experience sufficient gratitude for their efforts this can cause another injury that brings out the defenses.

Yet what the Cancer nurtures tends to be an expression of the image of the person whom the Cancer loves. Should this image be authentic to the loved person, it is wonderful. If the Cancer’s image is distorted by denial, wishful thinking, or illusion, it’s a setup for great suffering and pain on all sides, for the loved one hears that they are being loved in a way that doesn’t feel like love, and it is the loved one’s fault for not understanding the loving nature of the Cancer’s efforts, rather than the Cancer’s obligation to reconcile their image with their loved one’s true needs and nature.

Once I heard that Cancers made great sales people and business folks, which surprised me at first, but at their best Cancers intuitively sense what others want and need and know how to position their wares and services to meet those needs. Cancer wields love and money as currency and leverage to maximize their own comfort and success. Their opposing twin, Capricorn, is all about the hustle and the long game, while Cancer is much more adept at navigating the waters of changing fortune and playing the odds to their favor.

One of the Cancerian blessings I’ve come to value is expressed through its association with domesticity and cooking. The gravest insult you could serve a Cancer is to have a dinner party of all their friends and not invite them. Home cooking, with its investment of love and attention, is an expression of that Cancerian nurturing energy. It’s also, I’ve found, one of Cancer’s powers. When one is cooking, one can run multiple projects at the same time with the right timing. You can get a roast in the oven and two pots on the stove and let heat and time do its work, occasionally checking in to stir things up or let things settle.

This model of effort—letting things move in their own time, with occasional focused attention—also speaks to me of Cancer season. After getting your seeds going and planted in the spring, birthing your children, starting your projects, there is a period of time in which you need to learn how to balance the amount of caring you invest. Too much fussing can keep things from growing and cooking the way they need. Plants need time in the heat and weather to grow hardy, just as kids need time to play and explore and have their own problems. Yet they’re not in a place where they can be left to their own survival. Things need tending. The plants may need more water in the heat of July. You need to make sure the roast isn’t cooking too long and dries out. The kids need a soft place to run to when life gets scary, so they can work through their feelings and get ready to go back into the world.

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