Moon in Cancer | Sun in Capricorn

The Full Moon during Capricorn season means there is a giant Cancerian Moon opposite the Sun. I have two topics to address – and while they do not obviously match, by the end of this blog they will. This is what a Full Moon does: combines oppositions into harmony.

My dad was born with this Full Moon which has allowed me to understand through a personal lens, put in place at a very young age. Boy, did I love my dad. I watched him so closely, I paid attention to his peculiar behaviors, his funny emotional responses that were hidden behind his Capricorn mask, but I could feel him. I asked him all kinds of questions to get behind the mask, with very little luck.

His Capricorn showed up his whole life – he worked with all he had, he woke up early, we would never see him idle, always reading a newspaper, watching the news. Going out of his way to provide: every Sunday morning we had a brown paper bag filled with hot bagels, lox and white fish from the Detroit Bagel Factory just down the street.

His rituals were messy (no one tells you Capricorn is messy, especially when they have a Cancer Moon); always busy, helping, providing, wheeling, and dealing with little priority for cleaning. He left that for my mom. It was pretty much impossible to give back to him. The moment you arrived at the restaurant he would secretly hand the host the credit card before we even started dinner. He always took financial care of all of us.

No surprise, his emotional body was guarded. Most Cancerians are not willing to reveal their tenderness until they are pushed or pained through external extreme means, and then out comes Niagara Falls. But not without endless years of frozen Water.

For the men who grew up to fit into the old boys’ club, where my dad grew up (during the depression), emotions were a sign of being a “sissy.”  A word that carries venom – loser – that word is so painful. Notice we do not use it anymore. That era hurt so many men.

My dad was crushed by life – but you couldn’t tell by looking. Well, not until the one episode that had him in the hospital suffering from some crazy exotic short-term diagnoses: herpes on the brain, robbing him of his mind. For three weeks my genius father’s brain, who could do math inside his head (he was tested for a genius label) was, well, not genius at this time. His left brain checked out entirely.

He didn’t know the date, how old he was, or how much 2 plus 5 was. His genius mathematician was gone. Meanwhile his right brain – the emotional side – had a massive explosion of backed-up feelings. It all came out at once. He could not stop crying, holding my hand, mouthing how much he loved me. He kept repeating: I love you, I love you. I didn’t leave his bedside during those weeks. I had flown in from Europe, surprisingly carrying a child. It was a secret even from myself at that point, even if my emotional body was influencing a sensitivity that I was not familiar with either. The two of us cried.

I was surely not used to seeing my dad cry like he did in those weeks.  It was some of the most meaningful energetic exchanges we had ever had, holding hands with me reading esoteric books to him. I just love these memories. At last, all that backed-up emotion he had held in with his mask glued to his persona, came out. His pretense was gone.

This Full Moon in Cancer begs us to feel. To step over the pretense of our persona and let our tenderness flow. I am crying as I write this. Nothing had ever compared to the raw, unfiltered outpouring as the faucet opened with my dad and me.

Truth be told we all have so many reasons to cry. Okay, now the second topic.

I flew to Las Vegas for an in-person podcast this week. Someone told me not to miss the show, Postcards from Earth, at the Sphere. It was a 45-minute film about Earth. I grew up with my dad watching animals every Sunday morning.

I love the images of Earth so much. No surprise, this film had my waterworks flowing again. Like in a National Geographic film, the photos of the Earth and her beauty were all on display: The Grand Canyon, the sacred towns of India and all its colors, the holy churches of Christianity filmed in perfect lighting. Too many countries and cultures to count: I have never seen Earth look better in all her glory.

Sure I had tears, but where it went over the top was at the end as the film suggested that we have hurt Mom so much, we would soon be forced to leave, to go to other planets waiting for Mom to heal. We were no longer welcome here.

I can’t stop thinking of this story, hoping it’s not real. I cried. Like I did with my dad as he mouthed: I love you. I felt like I was saying that to Mother Earth: I LOVE you.

I kept thinking, how could we let this happen? My dad was a protector. He was built to create safety: not only did he have a Full Moon in Cancer, but Pluto was connected to it (for those who know Astrology, that’s a steroid injection). He loved us, but of course, he could not protect me, my brothers or anyone from the lessons this lifetime serves us. Just like no one can stop us from hurting ourselves and Mom.

See the connection? The Full Moon in Cancer wants nothing more than to protect us, but because of human design, our operating systems, we are not all built to be kind, generous, giving, and trusting.

Dare I say it: we are not good enough for Mother Earth. What do I do with this truth? I keep going, giving my Capricorn my next effort. Just do the next right thing.

My prayer this lifetime: is to be good enough for my dad to be proud. To show him the updated version of our lineage that I am getting up early, working hard and doing what life asks me to do with all I’ve got. Even if he has passed, even if the world as we know is changing, I will never turn my head. I will continue to give you all I have.

Said every Capricorn with a Full Moon in Cancer. Is there any place in your life that requires your best effort that you have not been showing up with all you’ve got? Don’t wait for life to shock you with a diagnosis, or put you in a compromised situation.

Let this Full Moon in Cancer inspire you: let your heart be open. Let the Capricornian part of you step up, ready to be real and raw. SO much trust for one blog. Sending you my love.