Oh My Stars

matthew currie astrology moon in cancer(Since The Moon is often associated with the conditions of one’s childhood, here’s Part Two of a twelve-part series about the Moon in your birth chart — your emotional comfort zone — written from both the perspective of a standard astrological interpretation and a children’s story from the perspective of each Moon Sign. I’ll tuck you in later.)


No one gets through childhood without developing a few issues, but people with Moon in Cancer often seem to have more than most. At the same time, they often put more effort into hiding them than the average person. These two qualities can make you a look a little neurotic, which is actually a good thing… because deep down you’re probably pretty neurotic.

You are highly creative and deeply imaginative, and this can make you imagine personal slights and insults where none was intended. You cry at sad movies and get angry when anyone catches you at it. Moon in Cancer is sensitive to its emotional environment, and spends a lot of time and energy defending against it.
When you do let your guard down and truly let someone into your heart, you cling to them like a barnacle. This doesn’t mean they are immune to your mood swings: you just have to hope they are as understanding and accepting of them as you are. Moon in Cancer is naturally protective of the weak and the underdog.

You would make an excellent defender of social justice, except that you’re afraid someone might see you at it and laugh. You have long and durable memory for the wrongs and insults committed against you. Even the biggest Macho Man with Moon in Cancer has a deeply ingrained maternal side.


Under a big tree in the woods, there sits a tuffet of grass, unoccupied except for an untouched bowl of curds and whey just like Mom used to make. Every ten minutes or so a radar-style antenna extends from behind the tree, and the silence is broken by the beeping of the SpiderScan 4000 Arachnid detector. After an hour or so of this, Miss Muffet emerges from behind the tree and slowly and carefully approaches the bowl. She finally sits down and begins to eat it.
A few minutes later a gentle breeze brings a butterfly flitting into Miss Muffet’s view. Muffet pulls a sawed-off shotgun out from under her skirt and with a single skillful shot blows the butterfly away.
“Well… they’re ALMOST like a spider,” she says.


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