By Amanda Painter
On Friday, at 11:54 am EDT / 15:54:07 UTC, the Sun enters Cancer for the solstice: the longest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere. It’s one of the year’s four major, seasonal turning points, by which ancient cultures once organized their practical lives and their understanding of the cosmos.
Children seeking asylum dance to music after lunch Wednesday at the Portland (Maine) Expo. Photo by Derek Davis / Portland Press Herald
Most modern cultures have become rather detached from this rhythm — thanks to things like electric lights and other industrial and agricultural innovations obviating our complete dependence on seasonal shifts; along with what we’ve gained in that, there have surely also been losses. Astrologically, the Sun entering Cancer also signals us to be aware of the Aries Point: those first degrees of Aries — extended to the other cardinal signs (Cancer, Libra and Capricorn) — that describe events and issues where the political and personal weave together.
It is worth noticing whether the first few days of solar Cancer display an intensification of events in the news that strongly impact you personally, or whether you feel like issues you’ve been grappling with in private suddenly are reflected in the news.
The recent attacks on the oil tankers in the Gulf of Oman — and the subsequent rumblings about a U.S. war with Iran — have a more direct correlation with the recent contact between Mars in Cancer and the Saturn-Pluto conjunction in Capricorn. Yet we need to watch for how Aries Point activity could describe the ways this issue may become very personal for many people.
Mercury and Mars now in a tight square to Eris in Aries suggest that the chaos factor and potential for emotional manipulation of the populace by governmental actions (and especially subterfuge) could increase. I’m not predicting this will be the case, and I hope it won’t be; I do think it’s wise to be on the lookout.
In terms of what minor objects the Sun will come into direct contact with when it arrives in the first degree of Cancer, the closest are a conjunction to the asteroid Urania in the first degree of Cancer, and an opposition to the Uranian point Cupido in the first degree of Capricorn. (Though the Gemini Sun has already been resonating with these objects as it approaches.) I’ll say this again, since it could easily be confusing: Cupido is a hypothetical ‘Uranian’ point, but Urania is an asteroid with actual mass.
I’ve seen Urania delineated as relating to such themes as precision, logic, astrology, astronomy, and the ability to see past a small detail to the larger picture, context or abstract concept. Cupido is associated with partnerships (whether companionship or cooperative creative ventures), group dynamics and possibly family history.
A couple other early-cardinal objects have gotten quite a bit of attention in recent months: Pholus (small cause, big effect; generational ripples; something uncorked) and Quaoar (the dance of your ancestral pattern that you were born into). They’re hanging out in the second and third degrees of Capricorn, respectively.
Over in the direction of early Libra, we have a galaxy named M87 (also known as the “super galactic center”), and the asteroid Eros (the Will to Live; what turns you on, whether erotically or in the sense of joie de vivre). Eric has written in the past of his sense that M87 could very well be what infuses the Aries Point with such potency.
Chiron is not far off, in the sixth degree of Aries. Even so, I’m tempted to see Aries as the empty-ish leg of a cardinal grand cross: the side that you yourself may need to fill in somehow, just by being willing to show up fully as who you are. That can feel daring, as though you’re standing out from the safety of blending in with others. It may require you to up your self-awareness, and to work more actively on owning and processing your shit. That idea is certainly resonating strongly with me in my personal life right now.
Looking at the whole early cardinal configuration, I’m wondering about this idea: looking for the most precise alignment we can find between what and who we care about and the actions we take to show it; between the influence of our family histories and how we show up in our current partnerships and group dynamics; between our personal Life Force and passion, and collective issues vastly larger than who we are individually. I’m thinking about the many ways that tangible acts of caring and actions taken in reactive defensiveness both can ripple out — into our wider social networks, into our communities, into the lives of strangers, into the political events occurring with our tacit — if silent — complicity.
I’m also noticing these themes play out where I live: in recent weeks, Portland, Maine, has taken in 292 asylum seekers — 87 families — who traveled by bus from the southern U.S. border. Most are fleeing political, military and economic problems in Angola and the Democratic Republic of the Congo in Africa, and traveled across Central America and Mexico to get here. Portland converted a sports arena into an emergency shelter amid the influx last week — and while there are plenty of people expressing fear-fueled complaints (particularly on social media) about what a ‘drain’ these people will be, the city has seen an overwhelming show of support in the form of monetary donations, community groups offering assistance, and individuals signing up to volunteer in various ways.
I am heartened to see my community really stepping up like this. I am also saddened to read that many of these new arrivals still fear arrest by immigration officials, and as a result may push further north into Canada. Thank the gods and goddesses that Maine is no longer under the punitive, racist, certifiably insane thumb of former governor Paul LePage. Current Mayor Janet Mills has stated that Portland can expect some state funding to assist these new asylum seekers, since there are federal restrictions on their ability to seek employment and federal aid like Medicaid and food stamps.
You may not have a similar situation of an issue from ‘out there’ — like people seeking asylum in a large group — showing up right in front of you, in your community. Maybe something else is suddenly in your awareness; perhaps the long Northern Hemisphere days are shining some light on what you need to take care of — whether family, community or something within yourself.
As much as some of the background astrology speaks of basking in those rays with a head full of daydreams (Venus in aspect to Jupiter and Neptune), you may find that’s only so satisfying right now. Something out there seems to be calling out for a different kind of alignment. Or is it some part of you that’s doing the calling?