Cancer and Cancer

The little house looked so cosy and safe in the darkness, with a bright light showing through its blinds, and the chimney smoking beautifully….

Did you ever wonder why your parents treated you as they did when you were a child? I mean, do you brood over it a lot? No? Well, Cancerians do, just before they fall asleep at night, and after they do finally fall asleep, they dream about it, or have nightmares about it.

Yesterday—whether it was twenty or a hundred years ago—is very real to the Moon-lured Crabs, which is why most of them know so much about history, a favorite Cancerian subject in school, also a popular hobby with many of these men and women in later years. Lots of Crabs collect antiques.

Unless the parents of those born under this Moon-controlled Sun Sign of Cancer were astrologers, they may not have said I love you often enough to these sensitive children. Maybe they discussed how pretty or handsome the siblings were too frequently. Perhaps they gave the little Crabs too meager an allowance, forcing them to go to work cutting the neighbor’s grass at the age of eight, because a stipend of a dollar a week wasn’t enough to remove that uneasy feeling of financial insecurity (any more than $3,000 a week could take it completely away now). It’s even possible that the parents of little Clementine or Clarence didn’t kiss the Crabs goodnight, or read bedtime stories to them each evening. (They skipped it on week ends—horrors!)

All these are reasons why the majority of Cancerians grow up lacking a sense of emotional security, causing them to exhibit flashes of moody, sensitive adolescence. It’s taxing for other Sun Signs (except for Scorpio and Pisces) to cope with the apprehensions that haunt Crabs, from the persistent spectre of starvation to the lingering dread of loneliness. Only a Cancerian, vibrating on the same Lunar frequency, can find the right words and manner to calm another. Here’s a sample of the typical dialogue between these 1-1 Sun Sign Pattern people.

The typical Cancerian wouldn’t feel totally secure financially if he or she owned Fort Knox. Nelson Rockefeller, the original John D. Rockefeller and various other assorted Rockefellers are Cancerians. They spend most of their time worrying about how to invest their billions to keep them from shrinking into mere millions, right along with worrying about how to give the whole world a bowl of hot chicken soup. Here they are (they believe) trying their best to solve the problems of starvation and poverty and political confusion, with the few dollars they can spare—and everyone misconstrues their motives and calls them greedy, monopoly-minded capitalists. It’s just AWFUL. Nobody understands, nobody really cares.

The emotional insecurities which cause many Crabs to snap and be cranky, to withdraw into their shells sullenly and pout, to hoard their cash under the mattress and be fearful and timid about accepting affection, may often best be soothed by another Moon Child. However, sometimes these moody Looney Birds of such deep perception and sharp insight, such gentle manners and graceful ways, need the added dimension of other Sun Sign friends, associates and mates to balance their complex personalities. Two Crabs together will develop strong ties of sympathy, but will they grow? Only when each is wise enough to see in the other his or her own mistakes, thus correcting, instead of compounding them—for compounded mistakes, very much like compounded interest loans at the bank, can be costly in terms of human happiness.

Despite a natural timidity, Cancerians possess incredible tenacity of purpose, frequently losing all fear and reticence when a crisis strikes, and something or someone they love needs their courage. Then they can be amazingly strong, forceful and tough—until their feelings are hurt again—and back they crawl into the protective shell. In any sort of mutual relationship they’ll never run out of things to crab about, weep over, laugh at and share.

All Looney Birds are fascinated by antiques, museums and politics. Normally, they’re intensely patriotic, and if they’re typical Cancerians, they’ll be the most loyal, flag-saluting, flag-waving citizens of their country—except for Taureans. Many of them are teachers, scientists, artists and photographers (and bankers, of course, that’s understood). The women are usually ideal home-makers, and excellent, though somewhat possessive, mothers. Both sexes tend to collect valuables, as well as totally worthless junk. Crabs are impossibly cranky, touchingly kind and hilariously funny. They’re first chatty, then silent, sullen and depressed—sometimes pushy and aggressive, at other times cautious and conservative, blushing with shyness and timidity. They can be gallant, sweet, old-fashioned, motherly or fatherly, protective, scholarly, soothing and gentle. They’re highly secretive (but seldom deceptive—there’s a difference), graceful, poetic, musical daydreamers, whose raindrop tears are preludes to fits of giggles. Money and food can seduce them into almost anything, yet they’re more sentimental at heart than even Leo, Libra and Taurus—and always economical and thrifty. You’d be all these things too, if your emotions were synchronized to every change of the Moon.

I don’t know about your experiences, but all the Crabs who have grabbed my toe—or ear—or heart—on the beach, in the mountains, or in the city, are each doing their astrologically, totally typical thing. Among the Looney Birds I know personally, one owns a supermarket, one is a musician, one interprets dreams—and one is a powerful, wealthy tycoon-politician for whom I have a very high regard, who has, on occasion, requested astrological guidance, and has always thanked me most gallantly and graciously, in writing.

The reason so many Moon-ruled Crabs feel rather snugly at home in this country is because the United States of America is perhaps the most typical Cancerian Sun Sign of all, born on the Fourth of July—confused and sidetracked repeatedly by the split-personality, schizophrenic urges of its Gemini Ascendent (preaching freedom, while having denied blacks, women and the American Indians true equality, and so forth). Still, Uncle Sam is basically a Crab, his Gemini Rising Sign notwithstanding, and when two Crabs double up in an association within an also Cancerian country, the 1-1 vibration increases in intensity.

Is there a single citizen of the USA (each Crab especially) who doesn’t feel an inexplicable heart tug of nostalgic sentiment and secret, if grudging, admiration at the sound of the brisk, clipped accent of dear old Mother England—or who wasn’t kinfolk proud of the courage of every Brit, ranging from pub keeper to Churchill, during the World War II blitz bombing of London? Is not our CIA, FBI, NASA, and evidently (judging from the Watergate affair) also, periodically, our Government, unnecessarily secretive? Were we not first to land a man on the Moon herself, our very own Sun Sign ruler?

Are we not, as a nation, continually feeling guilty twinges over our inability to feed the world’s hungry—and did we not initiate the practice of sending CARE packages to the needy? (Cancer cares.) Like any two Cancerians doubled-up, do we not become unexpectedly Crab-shell tough in a crisis? And—say! Why don’t those countries we try to help, by intervening in their private affairs, like us more? Why aren’t they more grateful? Does anyone really-truly love us? (sob-sob) Who will dispute America’s use of her wealth to buy affection and respect from others, as well as to purchase security and protection against those who might hurt her, and her children? Is not the largest defense budget in the world an aspect of undue Cancerian caution? And Heavens-to-Betsy-Ross! Goodness knows we’ve always fought for and clung to our freedom—tenaciously.

Now, if we could only get over our Cancerian money hang-up, let go and learn to really share, realize that to get love, we must give love, we might all stop being so crabby and snapping at each other (like any two Crabs, in any sort of an association). Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh dear! Things were so much better back in the good old days… when we had whiffleberry jelly on our toast… (sob-sob)…. swinging on the apple tree in the grassy-green back yard ….. swimming in unpolluted rivers and streams ….. all snug and safe and security-blanketed in the protection of our Constitution… when our leaders had to be voted into office by the people’s choice ….. and a simple, honest boy like Abe Lincoln could aspire to become President, without the backing of the multibillion-dollar interests of modern day, powerful conglomerates… (sob-sob)… way back when dear old Patrick Henry said Give me liberty, or give me …….

Say, you know what? When you really stop to think about it, a little Cancerian caution now and then might not be such a bad thing after all. Maybe those good old days are worth clinging to—tenaciously. Sometimes, the Crab’s Lunar fears and nightmares are not imaginary, but very real.

Cancer Woman and Cancer Man

He does so need a mother….

Yes, I know, Wendy admitted rather forlornly; no one knows so well as I.

When a girl Crab and a boy Crab are enticed to peek out of their protective shells long enough to fall in love, emotional security being the important thing it is to each, they’ll usually want to marry. Some may make the attempt to tolerate a loosely defined living-together arrangement for a time, but it will be a very short time.

These two really prefer—and need—the warmth and protection of a socially-sanctioned and legally-cemented relationship. It’s extremely doubtful that any Cancerian could be comfortable for long under the psychological burden of an illicit union. (What would Mother think?) Only those rare and lonely Moon Children who have been hopelessly alienated from the parental tie, for one reason or another, will successfully adjust to love-sans-marriage, and even they will duck their heads when they pass the neighbors. Yes, there are Cancerian prostitutes, but truly, they’re the most unhappy, emotionally unfulfilled females on Earth, except when they’re counting their earnings. Nevertheless, every last one of them cries herself to sleep at night.

The casual promiscuity of much of today’s society has passed right over the heads of the average and typical Cancer man and woman. Tradition and the sacredness of home life are too deeply ingrained in the Lunar subconscious to be discarded without great uneasiness of spirit, never mind what you may hear from some flippant Cancerian Looney Bird you know who’s trying to appear to be with it. Listen to the stars. They’re older and wiser. Watch—wait—and see.

Once the 1-1 Sun Sign Pattern of Cancer-Cancer is planted, and blossoms into the girl and boy Crabs becoming one flesh, they can surely discover lots of things to do together, based on interests they have in common—like poring over family photo albums, giggling over each other’s baby pictures, collecting stamps and old coins, crying on each other’s cozy shoulders, visiting each other’s homesteads, redecorating the house, gardening, traveling, exchanging dreams and nightmares, reading or writing poetry, singing or listening to music, running along the beach picking up driftwood, scuba diving, making wishes on the New Moon and sharing Lunar madness under the Full Moon. She can cook for him, and he can earn money for her. Or—Cancer being a feminine sign, and the Lunar charisma of both male and female Crabs being what it is—he can cook for her, and she can earn money for him. Either way. All Cancerian men like fine food, and most are good cooks. All Cancerian women like supplemental incomes, and most are good at earning it. And vice-versa, with the boy and girl Crabs.

Emotional crying binges (or pouting periods) will be first on the list of possible problem areas, making Kleenex a big item on the budget. They both sniffle, sob and weep a lot—at sad movies, over real or imagined neglect from the mate, about their lost childhood—and sometimes for no reason at all, except that their emotions wax and wane with the Moon’s periodicity.

Food, as already mentioned, will come next in importance, with either happy agreement or tearful argument about which restaurant to dine in (during courtship) or how to cook and serve the artichokes at home (after the honeymoon). Those rare Cancerians who are casually unconcerned with food—with where, when and how they eat—either have the Moon or Ascendent in Gemini, Aquarius, Sagittarius or Aries, or else they were adopted for sure, and were fibbed to about their true birthday. Fabulous food—and enough of it—is a Cancer birthright. It shocks the typical Crabs to think of anyone starving, and it literally terrifies them to think of themselves starving. Both possibilities will bring tears to their eyes. Some of the most sincerely and tenderly concerned men and women, who deeply yearn to help the hungry masses (especially the children) of the underprivileged countries, are Cancerians (also some of the most frequent purchasers of bathroom scales, although they share this latter distinction with many Taureans and Librans).

After emotional tantrums and food fusses will come babies—raising a family. If one of them has natal planetary positions indicating the lack of desire to have offspring, the other will sulk and pout. If they both want tiny cherubs, they’ll find grounds for both agreement and disagreement when the birds are ready to leave the nest. Some Cancerian mothers don’t believe Junior is old enough to date a girl or to live alone in his own apartment until he’s around thirty to thirty-five. Some Cancerian fathers (and mothers) don’t believe a daughter should marry until a potential suitor appears who is healthy, wealthy and wise, who treasures her as a rare pearl of perfect womanhood, whose reputation is unblemished—and who makes over $100,000 a year. (A parent with both the Sun and Moon in Cancer might conceivably hold out for President of the United States as the only man fit for such an honor.)

Next on the list of subjects involving the possibilities of both harmony and tension between two Crabs in love—is money. Actually, money comes first in order of Cancerian priority, but sometimes the haze of romance causes this couple to hide their individual financial hang-ups from each other initially, as an unseemly and harsh intrusion upon the harmonics of love. They’re right. It is. Nonetheless, they’d best tackle the clash over cash in the very beginning. Separate checking accounts. Definitely, that’s what I would advise. Separate checking accounts, savings accounts, stock portfolios, stamp collections and spending money allowances. Then they can each hoard as much lettuce as he or she desires, and practice whatever mild or pronounced degree of stinginess or generosity was implanted by the experiences of childhood, secretly, without the other knowing about it. Cancer is ultra-sensitive, and more so about money than about anything else. Keeping their individual finances private could be a futile hope, because these two are equally adept at keeping secrets and prying them out of each other.

Last, but surely not least, there’s the area of sex. Let’s hope they make an attempt to comprehend the peculiarities of their mutual astrological symbol, the Crab. The habit of all Nature crabs, male and female, as I’ve pointed out before, is to reach a desired objective by first moving backward or sideways, with seeming unconcern, then lunging suddenly forward. If they both memorize this ingrained tendency, she’ll be less likely to dissolve into tears of rejection and neglect some night when he casually announces he’s going to sleep on the couch to watch the eclipse of the Moon from the front room window. She can instead smile to herself, knowing his real objective is to follow her into bed soon, having been aroused by Lunar longings when she kissed him goodnight on the couch, trailing perfume and wearing his favorite nightie. And he’ll be less likely to be thrown into an impotent impasse of masculine fears when she coolly turns her back to him on their anniversary, murmuring, Goodnight honey, don’t forget to set the alarm, after her eyes telegraphed to him all afternoon an invitation for a thrilling encore of their wedding night. He can, instead, smile and wait till she signals her real wishes by slowly sliding her cold feet over to touch his warm toes—or some similar subtlety. Both of them are inclined to play sexual guessing games, concealing passion for fear of rebuff—or the discovery of a lack of a mutual need for union—and so each will often try to trick the other into making the first move. Other than this bedtime hide-and-seek habit, they should find a rare contentment through their physical expression of love.

Neither one of them seeks, or is desirous of handling, a demanding sexual passion. Although they’re both enormously receptive to sensuality and capable of a deep response, their need in lovemaking is more for affection than for eroticism. It can crush a male or female Crab if the partner fails to set the proper mood for sex, with preliminary endearments and tender touches—or, even worse, fails to spend time after physical consummation in affectionately reaffirming love. Romance is an integral part of sexual excitement and fulfillment for Cancer. The boy or girl Crab who feels unloved throughout the day will snap sharply at the advances of the mate at night, then crawl into a lonely shell of frigidity, expecting to be coaxed out into desire by frequent reassurances and apologies.

When these two first meet, timidity and caution may color their initial sex reactions. Then suddenly, under a Full Moon, which can act as a strange and mystical aphrodisiac to Cancer, they’ll move forward (like the symbolic Nature crab) to do what comes naturally, and it will be a toss-up who seduces whom. Poetry and music never fail to quicken the sexual pulse of Cancerian lovers, but they’ll find physical love difficult if not impossible to express when they’re worried about finances. A streak of poverty can temporarily halt their sex lives, and a feeling of not being appreciated will also considerably dampen passion. When their physical relationship cools, they don’t need a sex therapy clinic or a bag of ginseng cookies. They need lots of money, lots of affection, lots of sympathy—and a Farmer’s Almanac. Usually, this man and woman will be faithful. Infidelity is rare between Cancerians. If it should occur, the Lunar possessiveness won’t be as likely to create a display of jealousy, as to cause a tenacious determination to wait out the rival.

Secrecy is a trait they’ll have to curb early in their relationship. Although Crabs of both sexes like to keep secrets, neither one likes to have secrets kept from him—or her. If they work at being more open and direct, less subtle and evasive, much hurt can be avoided. He may think she’s hiding a lover, when the real reason she’s so quiet and preoccupied is because her mother didn’t answer her last letter—or he didn’t compliment her on her creamed artichokes, and didn’t even notice her new nightgown. And she may think he’s seeing another woman, when his real secret is that he’s worried about being able to make the car payment—or that she’s forgotten to say thank you for loving me when they wake up in the morning for three whole weeks. In either case, an honest confession will turn everything rightside-up again, and change tears into laughter—for both of them possess the saving grace of humor, which is always the surest and safest antidote when they’re taking themselves too seriously.

More so than with other 1-1 Sun Sign Pattern lovers, the degree of compatibility between the Moon Maid and her gentle Crab will depend on their individual Moon Signs, and the aspect formed between their natal Moons. If this is harmonious, their coziness will far exceed their crabbiness. If not, this man and woman still stand a good chance of becoming wealthy together—and they’ll also probably treat one another with more tender, loving care than either of them ever have or ever will receive from anyone else. They may snap at each other under a waning Moon, but when she is waxing, these two will sail away on a sea of imagination into a lovely world of lavender lunacy and pale silver enchantment, faintly scented with Johnson’s baby powder. Moonlight becomes them—both.