During Cancer season I always feel a strong need to break away from routines, to go somewhere, experience something different. I need to turn over a new leaf or rock –preferably one found far away, on foreign land. Cancer falls in my Ninth House of Expansion, but the urge to get away is motivated by the archetype of Cancer.  This is where I take care of myself, how I heal. I’ve been dreaming of a trip to the desert, I always long for the bone-dry desert at Capricorn Full Moon, with its Spartan moonscape terrain. I’m turning forty next week and this yearning feels monumental. A song calls to me, …”in the desert, you can remember your name…” I fantasized about writing you this full moon essay from a little no name motel in the Mojave, located next to a no name bar, with a bartender named Rocky or Bud or Stoney. Alas, I am writing you from my sturdy little office, which I love, in a home I also love.

For multiple reasons outside my control, the desert fantasy is not going to happen. Even though I need to wrangle an adventure, I need to stick closer to home, more. There’s too much healing to do. I need the nourishment of home-cooked meals. I need my Sunday Farmer’s Market, which supplies me with a week’s worth of pastured meats and organic veggies, and out-of-this-world-blueberries. I need the reliable comfort of my bed, “The Cloud” never gives me a backache. I need to care for my cat, Obi, whom it took weeks and trip to the vet to forgive me the last time I left. Most of all, I need to be careful about how I spend my energy. I live with chronic illness so whereas most people wake up with unlimited energy and possibilities, I have a limited amount. I know any form of stress, say a roadside emergency, or my currently intermittently functional iPhone to break down, my healing would be set back by weeks. These are Cancer decisions and even for a Cancer Sun, they aren’t easy to make. Honestly, I’d rather be the person who could high tail it out of here, rely on the kindness of strangers, live on gas station chimichangas and roadside taco stands. With my courageous (and foolhardy) Aries Moon, I certainly have it in me to do this, but oh the consequences. For me, there are consequences for pushing too hard.

Cancer is the mother, the unconditional loving mother, the healer of the zodiac; Capricorn, te father, the wise sage of realism. Capricorn reminds us of our limits and boundaries, and with the Moon he’s forever bringing us down to earth with one more reality check, obligation, responsibility. It’s true: Capricorn is an uneasy, too serious sign for the whimsical Moon, who needs a bit of whimsy and spontaneity to heal and be happy. This full moon asks us to seize what we need to be happy but also consider the consequences of our actions, to heed our personal limits. This is the eternal tension of Cancer/Capricorn axis. Together, these two are the cosmic parents of the zodiac, balancing whimsy with discipline, healing with patience.

I think about the desert, what draws me to her. I grew up in the middle of the desert, in Santa Fe, so her inner landscape is inside me. Desert creatures are lean, tough, strategic – they have to be, to survive harsh heat. Like Capricorn, they know how to survive on very little. The plant life of the desert is economical, too. A cactus must be efficient to thrive. I am like this, too. We, too, have inner landscapes, innate ways of being that tell us how much or little water and sleep we need, what kind of food, how much play we need, or work. We know what nourishes us. The homing device that gives us this information will receive cosmic attention during Jupiter in Cancer (beginning 6/25). Are we respecting our inner landscape, what it needs to thrive? Are we being self-congruent?

A full moon is the meeting of two opposites. What do you need to do to heal and nurture your soul and feminine spirit right now?  Do the structures and plans you have in your life support this? Do you allow you to feel: your feelings, compassion for your Self, care for your Self? Do you take responsibility for your life? If we have instincts that seemingly compete in divergent directions we can integrate them. Instead of high tailing it out of town this weekend, I’m doing high Cancer work: I’m taking care of myself. I’ve shed tears over my limits, honouring my feelings (Cancer), and I’m respecting my limits. So I’m also gonna take a wee, manageable day trip. In so doing I hope the strictures I feel will loosen and give me more freedom to roam… down the road.