Reframing Cancer: Why Emotional Sensitivity is One of the Mightiest Strengths

How did Cancer come to be synonymous with crybabies? I have no doubt, reader, that you have learned about this sign through the lens of its sensitive emotional structure. But it seems that the profound emotional wiring of Cancer has won not the recognition of its own strength, but rather, a disparagingly crafted caricature of moodiness, tears, and the girlification™ of human emotion. Much like Taurus being talked about strictly in relation to food, money, and sleep, Cancer, unlike its other water sign brethren, has been loudly maligned, scorned, and joked about as if to distill this evolutionary and necessary human component down into memes about crying, hurt feelings, Drake, and mommy issues. It is true that weaponized emotion opens the door to passive-aggression, manipulation, and a particular brand of self-possessed lassitude. But then, every sign has its unproductive manifestation, not just Cancer. What is it about Cancer that triggers such a disproportionately spiteful response? Let’s reframe this sign, let’s highlight the strength and fortitude required to withstand the human condition with the open-heart of Cancer, and the brave act of daring to feel in a world that does not feel for us.

In all of my reframings, I find mythology to be a helpful starting point. The myth of Cancer I’d like to share today may have little to do with what you know. In the more popular rendition, Cancer the crab was sent to fight Hercules but ended up crushed to death. As consolation, goddess Hera made a place in the sky for the crab. End of story. But in other tellings, and instrumental in reframing this sign, Cancer was known as Crios, a giant crab that guarded Poseidon’s daughters. In exchange, Poseidon gave Crios immortality. Crios took his duties seriously—the protection, the sharp antennae for any danger. And so, when danger did come, Crios fought valiantly, and was left wounded. But remember, Crios was given immortality, destined to live with the injuries he had sustained, accepting of his wounded state without complaint. So, as a reward for his bravery, Poseidon relieved Crios of his pain, immortalizing him instead in the night’s sky. In this second telling, we get to the heart of why Cancer’s sensitivity is its greatest strength: the automatic ability to protect while enduring pain. Continuing to show up in a world that breaks our bones, rushing first to help others bandage up, while wearing a wound of their own.

Cancer is a cardinal water sign, and in an evolutionary walk down the zodiac, Cancer represents a necessary first—initiating emotion. It is here that all of creation—started by Aries, sustained by Taurus, perceived by Gemini—confronts the heart. Cancer answers the question of belonging, of community. Beyond zodiacal order, Cancer is also where life begins symbolically—the womb, the life-sustaining properties of water from which all else sprouts—from the relational mirroring of Libra to the experiential adventures of Sagittarius. And so the archetype of the Mother begins and ends with Cancer, the sign responsible for primordial nurturing, emotional connection, and the fundamental sense of love and care that allows one to extend fully into their humanity. Now think about how mothers are treated in society, and by extension, women individuals writ large. There is a chronic and institutional maltreatment of the feminine: from the fight to control our bodies, to be able to vote, to be able to hold positions of power, to be able to walk home at night and not fear being followed or assaulted. Even the pathologized and pseudo-scientific ways women have been belittled—from the Hysteria diagnosis of the 1880s, to the work of Freud relegating the complex (and still misunderstood) structure of the clitoris to just “a small penis.” Emotions have long been marred within the framework of what is weak, what is unnecessary, what is unbecoming, what needs to be shoved aside in order to succeed. In Western society, men are taught to rebuke all displays of emotions (the Cancer opposition to enterprising and stoic Capricorn). Think even of our treatment of planet Earth—mother Earth. We take, we pillage, we disregard. yet Earth continues to sustain and support. This profound distortion of what is natural and human has leaked into Astrological takes and communities, with Cancer being the only feminine sign that takes the heat.

Despite this chronic maltreatment, women continue to show up, to make strides, to give birth to the very people who may, later on, become part of the patriarchal machine. In my reframing of Cancer, I want to emphasize that continuing to show up is a fucking superpower in a world that denies the divine feminine a seat at the table, that denies emotion a seat at the table, that denies subtext, disrespects creatives, and mocks emotion. Bravery isn’t winning all the time—it’s losing and continuing to try again. It’s remaining convicted and purposeful in a world that brings you to your knees. Avoiding emotion is easy, folks. Feeling them isn’t.  And to be sure, one needn’t be woman to have this superpower. Cancer energy bleeds through any gender, any culture-- but setting the stage with Cancer’s undeniable link to womanhood, and womanhood’s subjugation, demonstrates the power at hand here. And all this gets to the heart of Cancer’s cardinal modality—it’s not just about initiating emotion but continuing to begin again in an environment dead set on killing you. People mock the safe space that Cancer creates, yet surely couldn’t thrive without it—a home, a community, a belonging, a sense that our feelings are valid. Cancer is the calling from deep in the heart that compels action. What life is worth living without that emotional compass? Sensitivity does not demonstrate weakness, but rather, points towards the strength of individuals who rise again, tender-hearted, to face the world.

I also want to look at Cancer’s ruling planet, the Moon, and the deep vestiges of myth that surround it. Specifically, the myth of Egyptian goddess, Isis. She was and still is considered a lunar deity, extolling the virtues of motherhood, protection, and harvest. But one of her primary powers was that of healing, another aspect of the Cancer archetype that bears importance. Isis’ lover, Osiris, was cut up into a million little pieces by his brother Seth. Isis went on not only to heal and make him whole again, but to bear his child nine months later. She was revered for these skills, known as a great magician, and has been said to possess powers that were far stronger than other male deities like Osiris or Re. The moon watches over Earth when the Sun is away, casting a magical haze that gives way to dreams, to sleep, to restoration and healing. Without the reflective nature of the Moon, life is unbalanced, it burns up under the heat of the Sun. The Moon, and by extension, the Cancer archetype, provides a balanced ecosystem. With no emotional, subtextual, or subliminal exercise, the inner life suffers, and so does the outer life. Like Isis and the Moon, the Cancer energy carries with it profound healing, the ability to turn nothing into something, to smooth over what is wrought and wrinkled. In the tale above, despite the odds, the hatred, the embroiled battles—Isis came to represent what it means to possess emotional wit, to circumvent challenges, to wear proudly the scars borne from protection over what is loved, what is needed, what is cared for. Is that not strength? Isis was actually a very obscure goddess but came into prominence because of her abilities. You could say she was reframed—once her gifts were recognized, she was elevated in importance. Cancer deserves the same renaissance. While the sign of Cancer itself is not obscured—it’s gifts and strengths certainly are. Even the literal Moon, cratered from millennia of space debris, continues to rise, to wane, to wax—to be alive in a hostile environment, to take the hits, just like Cancer. The Moon’s presence in the night’s sky, like Cancer, is enduring and resilient. It cares even when we don’t.

Dear reader, I hope this piece has allowed you to see Cancer differently, to see that beyond notions of crying oneself into a stupor or being a needy smotherer, that Cancer offers a profound strength, not found in any other sign. If you have Cancer in your chart, see it not as an invitation to belittle your wonderful emotional wiring or to mindlessly participate in the meme-ing of your character, but to come into respect and admiration of the superpower you possess. The world needs it, even if it does not yet see it.

Sarah Paulson's 11th House and the Archetypal Mommy

Sarah Paulson is an actress and overall wonderful person who is kind of Hollywood’s sweetheart the the moment due to the sheer amount of wonderful content she’s been in during the last few years. She’s very talented. And beautiful.

I was watching her latest film, Run, on Hulu yesterday while running through her social media mentions. In the movie she plays an possessive mother, hellbent on keeping her daughter close to home. Her character has Munchhausen Syndrome by Proxy (that’s not a spoiler, btw!). But even before this film, it has been a long standing joke that fans and stans alike will call her “mom” or “mommy”. Internet culture is weird. Paulson has addressed it and has seemed to accept it! (We’ve done something similar with Lady Gaga’s “mother monster” persona. In fact, calling a public figure “mom” or “mommy” has become a shorthand for expressing admiration.)

What is SO FUNNY is that Paulson’s 11th house is Cancer, the archetypal mommy. And 11th house is the place of fans, followings, audience. So that her fan base calls her mom, however strange, has symbolic resonance with her chart. As per usual, we see astrology manifesting correctly in the weirdest of ways. She has Big Mommy Energy.

What’s more, she has Saturn in Cancer in that 11th house. The mom and mom-like figures (think, caretakers) she plays are often maleficent or are in creepy/unsavory plots. In Run (poisonous mom), Ratched (poisonous nurse), literally all of her roles in American Horror Story, and even her so-good-but-awful role in 12 Years a Slave, playing a cruel mistress and house mother. She even plays hated (Saturn) women (Cancer), like Marcia Clark in American Crime Story: OJ and will be back in the series playing Linda Tripp. These are controversial figures! Even in more nuanced portrayals, like that of anti-feminist housewife Alice Macray on Mrs. America, Paulson seems to symbolically tap in on the restrictive or challenging nature of Saturn placed in a sign of femininity and care taking.

There is a running joke on social media is also that Paulson’s is the queen of crying and screaming on screen. And I thought—that’s about as Saturn in Cancer as it gets! Frigid, scared, crying women. Saturn is about things that go bump in the night. Cancer is about how we emote that fear.

I find it fascinating how actors pick roles that seem to illustrate their chart. Even if in their normal waking life that part of the chart is dormant in personal affairs, it can be expressed through artistic choices. It calls to mind the roles we play within our own networks. How those fans, followers, and friends see us.

Paulson’s Moon in Aquarius rules that Cancer 11th from the 6th house, creating a nice little mutual reception. Her life’s work (6th house) is embedded in expressing that mommy archetype, even in the darkest ways (Saturn).

Over The Top Virgo Rising? Out of Bounds Planets ft. DOLLY PARTON

I am going to just assume you know who Dolly Parton is. If not, just Google her. Spotify too, because she's a musical genius.

When you see her, what does it conjure for you astrologically? To be that overtly feminine and flashy? Bet Virgo Rising wouldn't ever come to mind.

Virgo on the ASC renders one, archetypically at least, modest, shy, bookish. Regardless of beauty or fashion sense, Virgo Risings are not known to make their presence known. Shrinking violets, and certainly a demeanor that is not overt. Ruler Mercury renders these natives studious of human behavior, which places one in the background. Out from after Leo, Virgo cleans up the party versus making itself the center of one.

ENTER. DOLLY. PARTON. Her chart is rated AA--so there is little to no debate about her Virgo ASC. Charming, quirky, talkative, yes, all traits of Mercury. But the flashiness, the overt femininity--things that make you go "huh" when you see her chart. And with Virgo as the virgin, the maiden--Parton's enhancement of her breasts, make-up, tight clothing, short-shorts, and thigh-high boots--seems to subvert the idea of innocence. She has even stated that she modeled herself, her persona, after the town trollop.

Now you may look to Venus. She has hers in Capricorn in the 5th conjunct Sun. Clearly this has made her artistically talented, charming, and entrepreneurial. She rose from complete poverty to being worth many millions. That's Cap! But Capricorn with Virgo ASC isn't exactly a dead ringer for extreme costuming. I wrote about how Capricorn loves to have fun as much as the rest of them, maybe even moreso. But the overt expression of her femininity still isn't exactly Saturnian. And its worth noting that her Venus doesn't trine her ASC. Her Saturn is fallen in Cancer, conj. Mars. Mars will come up again.

Dolly has Jupiter in Libra in the 2nd, and Uranus conj her Gemini MC. Jupiter in Libra is expansion of femininity. But I opine that this placement has more to do with her obvious wealth, and her extending of a helping hand financially (Libra) when disaster strikes. Jupiter here is averse to her ASC in Virgo. In spirit, it expands on her feminine nature, but in physicality, it can't. Her Uranus conj. MC certainly makes her stance on the world stage electric and flashy! But that didn't satisfy me. Her Uranus in Gemini is more about the message she is sharing with others, and as far as sexuality and appearance, Uranus wouldn't exaggerate, it would subvert--androgyny, gender fluidity, etc.

(Runner up: she has Moon in Virgo in her 1st. It doesn't conj her ASC degree, but Moon in 1st house folks are good at projecting an image that others want/desire. For a woman, overt sexuality in the music industry can provoke this.)

That's why when I realized her Mercury and Mars were out-of-bounds, I was relieved. Her chart remained kind of enigmatic at first glance, with only the two dimensional picture of the sky taken into account. In brief, declinations are a sub-section of astrology that take into account the three dimensional picture of the sky at birth. It measures the distance of planets from the celestial equator, the ecliptic. Out of bounds planets are ones that fall above or below the limits of the Sun on this ecliptic, 23 degrees 27 minutes. Planets above or below this are outside the "control" of the Sun. They are planets with no babysitter, no one to answer to. As such, they manifest as individuals with profound derangement, or profound talents. They bend the laws of what is thought possible or permissible, for better or worse

(Adele has OOB Venus, for example. Her artistic prowess is a phenomenon. Einstein had OOB Moon in Sag, and literally expanded our concept of reality itself).

The inner planets go out of bounds more frequently than the outer ones. Asteroids do it too. Dolly's ASC ruler, Mercury, a very important planet in the chart, was OOB. Her Mars, conj. that Saturn in Cancer was also OOB.

"As you might guess, people with an out-of-bounds planet tend to know no boundaries and accept no limits. Often there’s no stopping them. This can result in boundless creativity and success, allowing the native to go way beyond the potential that one might normally expect."

And so is the case with Dolly. From a young age, she received hoards of media (Mercury) attention for her singing and more notably, her songwriting (she'd later pen I Will Always Love You, made infamous by Whitney Houston). She is a goddamn prolific songwriter, penning over 3000 in her lifetime. Her OOB Mercury also rules her Gemini MC with Uranus (country to pop to musicals to film--shift shaping career) there. She'll go down in history.

Her Mercury stands at an opposition with Mars, both looking at the other, trying to get what they want. In the 5th in Cap, Parton obviously wanted to be recognized for her writing skills and derives a tremendous amount of joy and catharsis from it. But Mars in Cancer in the 11th made aware to her that as a musician, she was a public (11th) commodity. So she modeled herself in this vain. She told Oprah Winfrey that she had undergone so many surgeries in order to maintain her famous image. Her Mercury ruling Virgo is doing the most. Scrapping together all the she could to methodically plan and conceive of an image that would boost her success.

"It takes a lot of money to look this cheap". Here we see the Saturn principle of restriction (the restriction of wealth is "cheap", the restriction of class and prestige is "cheap") leaking into her humor.

She went out of her way to construct an overtly sexual persona in order to transition from country singer to mainstream pop success. That is due to Mars, the principle of cutting and surgery. "If I see something sagging, bagging or dragging, I'll get it nipped, tucked or sucked." Cancer is a feminine sign, having to do with the Mother and nurturing. Mothers nurture through their breasts, and Cancer rules the mammary glands. Her breast enhancements are an obvious manifestation of this martial energy. Mars OOB in Cancer also has a inordinate amount of energy placed towards Cancer things--so this can be the ultimate culprit of her consciously sculpted feminine physique. Enhancing traditionally feminine features like the breasts and lips, whilst nipping and sucking at the waist to achieve a Cancerian hourglass shape. Conj. Saturn, it has aided in her monetary success. And square that Jupiter in glamorous Libra, Mars has provided fuel to this overtly feminine persona.

(Her OOB Mars in Cancer has also, again, made her a fierce helper and protector of her community. She even created her own literal community--Dollywood! Theme parks are a Mars-Jupiter arena! Thrill rides, amusement! And the play on Hollywood is apropos for Jupiter in Libra.)

While there are many things in her two dimensional chart that pinpoint Parton's specific brand of humanity, I hope this look into the three dimensional aspect of declinations can provide a more robust explanation. To note, Dolly has been in a 50 + year marriage, and refused to pose nude for Playboy. Clearly, the Virgo ASC and Capricorn sensibilities we all know are firmly in tact here.

Thanks for reading xx