Venus in Cancer
Art: Fritz Eichenburg. Healthcliffe on the Moors.
On July 18th Venus moved into Cancer, the sign of the “Great Mother”. She is now conjunct Black Moon Lilith in the early degrees. While the Sun is conjunct Ceres in the later degrees of Cancer, making an opposition to Pluto in Capricorn.
Today I awoke, tear stained face, begging the universe to bestow a haunting on me. From the depths of my soul, I desired to be haunted by my son. I want to catch his shadow walking beside me. I want him to sit beside my bed at night. To look back at me through the mirror.
Cradled in this desire evoked a passage from Wuthering Heights in which Heathcliffe says to Catherine after she departed….
“And I pray one prayer—I repeat it till my tongue stiffens—Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living. You said I killed you--haunt me then. I know that ghosts have wandered the earth. Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad. Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! It is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!”
From this dream drunk place, I felt called to check in with Venus’ “inside degree” at the time of my waking. As she rules heart connection, and is in the sign of Mother/Child bonds, I felt her meeting with Lilith (severing, disconnection) so strongly in this pull to the under/otherworld where souls reside.
CANCER 4
Weeping willows by a pond.
Remembering...oh so many things...the personal, the collective, the ancestral-karmic stories everywhere. Held transfixed by the¡ overshadowing of the stories, you seek shelter in the confines of the familiar. Layer upon layer of allegiance and sentiment, memory and realization. A certain habit of going back to the beginning. Magnetized by what you feel to be your own sphere of existence. Wishing to stay there and rest undisturbed, in the rippling waves of pasts sensed and followed. You keep the home fires burning in a vigil of being fragrantly tied in with your many pasts, so that there is no room for anything else, as what has always been continues in yet another variation, in enchanted life-force dreaming onward.
(Elias Lonsdale)
And it reminded me of the necessity of taking these romanticized strolls through the halls of memory. Like stepping inside a painting. Bringing in the sense and smell of previous experiences. To enliven our recollections.
There is almost always a dark and otherworldly quality when we visit the temple of remembrance.
Between life and death, present and past, it gives us an opportunity to reclaim something that might have been left behind. A soul fragment? A missing piece? To say now, what may have been left unsaid, trusting that it will be received.
Meeting a beloved on the Moors of Memory it can become a place for healing, Alchemy, and ultimately integration.
