Horoscopes for the Full Moon in Cancer
you can't ever say you haven't been told
Some housekeeping before we get into it: My books are open through the end of February, and I’m “extending” my end of year/new year sale one last time until the end of the day today (1/6). Use code 2023 for 20% OFF all full length readings. xo
***
I’ve said it before, but now it’s time to say it again: I never understood why people cared so much about myths or Shakespeare, “the classics” if you will, until I watched The Sopranos. I’ve never been one to latch onto stories about gods and goddesses. When other astrologers describe planets and transits and archetypes through mythic figures, I zone out. To be honest, I usually have no idea what they’re talking about. Yes, I get that we can see the story of each Venus retrograde through the underworld journey of Inanna, or that the protective nature of the second decan of Cancer relates back to muscle god Heracles. But if we’re talking about felt experience, these stories mean nothing to me.
Yes perhaps, my aversion to the classics, is mostly due to my own main character syndrome and the inability to relate to anything that isn’t primarily set in the Northeast suburbs at the turn of the millennium. But seriously: who needs Lady Macbeth when you have Carmela? Who needs Puck when you have Paulie Walnuts? Who needs Hamlet when you have AJ? Myths, Shakespeare, all of these traditional stories with none or questionable authorship are meant to be passed down, to be a relatable shorthand. It’s so joyous when we can all find this shared language. This is why mundane means both “dull” and “of the earth.” These stories are nothing and everything at once. The Greeks didn’t reference their myths conversationally to flex their intellectual muscles. Myths were medicinal and the Theatre of Dionysus was prescribed. Joan Didion wrote in The White Album, “We tell ourselves stories in order to live,” and I do think it’s the telling that matters. Stories must entertain. When I found The Sopranos, I knew I had found my own, special, canonical text. My own mundane fantasia on baked ziti served at a party in a McMansion after soccer practice themes. I knew I’d never write about Inanna, but I would certainly write about Carmela.
Another way we tell stories is through the lunation cycle. Tonight (1/6) at 6:07 pm EST, there is a Full Moon at 16º Cancer. Full Moons represent a climax in our personal and collective story. This lunation falls in the second decan of Cancer—a part of the zodiac connected to Tarot’s 3 of Cups; a card that the Golden Dawn called Abundance. This full moon is the culmination of not only what we began back at the New Moon in Capricorn two weeks ago on December 23rd, but also of whatever started back at the New Moon in Cancer on June 28th. If you want to get really into it, this is also a peak for something initiated around July 9, 2021, when there was a New Moon at 18º Cancer, only a few degrees off of today’s lunation.
This Full Moon in Cancer comes with a hungry, gnawing feeling. Like Carmela Soprano, the mob wife with the heart of gold, we’re usually able to keep our demons to ourselves. We go on with our lives: shopping for groceries, cooking Sunday Dinner, making sure AJ does his homework. But at this point in the timeline, we can no longer suppress it, what’s been percolating is made ripe and visible. This Full Moon wants us to let it all out. It’s time to reap what we’ve sown.
Carmela Soprano’s story doesn’t always take center stage. Like the lunar mother figure she is, she’s often a satellite, caught up in everyone else’s orbit. But by Season 3, Carmela is having a very hard time. It’s not just Tony, her unfaithful husband, leaving his Sunday Dinner cold that’s bothering her though. It’s also that her angelic daughter Meadow has fled the nest for Columbia University, cultivating knowledge and connections Carmela can only dream as her own. Add to that, her spoiled son AJ has reached his bratty teen peak, crushing her dream of being, at the very least, a beloved mother to a little boy. The cherry on top is that she’s let her relationships with both her fellow mob wives and her manipulative serial mooch of a priest deteriorate. With few friends, little faith, and no little ducklings to care for (beyond dropping off dry cleaning and penne with sweet sausage to an unappreciative Meadow at her dorm), Carmela is alone. The weight of being married to a depressed mobster is about to break her. Usually, she can keep this to herself, but in “Second Opinion,” (S3E7), we see Carmela at her Full Moon. She snaps, throwing the cordless phone at Tony after he complains that she bought the wrong orange juice—he likes the kind with “some pulp,” not “lots of pulp.” Caught in the act, there’s no turning back.
As I pondered the vulnerability inherent in this Full Moon, I came upon this passage from Anne Carson’s Red Doc> (ironically, a book that reimagines the Heracles myth; Heracles being a God figure associated with the second decan of Cancer)
“To feel anything
deranges you. To be seen
feeling anything strips you
naked. In the grip of it
pleasure or pain doesn’t
matter. You think what
will they do what new
power will they acquire if
they see me naked like
this. If they see you
feeling. You have no idea
what. It’s not about them.
To be seen is the penalty.”
When we’re pushed to the brink, we don’t always like what we see.
*
Whether it arrives with pleasure or pain, the Full Moon in Cancer always comes as a balmy antithesis to the cold and dry feeling of Capricorn Season. This year, the Full Moon happens just as Mercury retrograde enters the heart of the Sun. This is the halfway point in Mercury retrograde (which began back on December 29th) which usually comes with a small breakthrough or “a-ha!” moment. Something simple: A lost package finally makes its way in the mail, the wording for that stressful text finally workshopped into a perfect draft. Or something more meaningful: a hard truth delivered by a close friend or your therapist, whether or not you’re ready to hear it or not.
*
At the height of her pain and frustration, Carmela decides to go to therapy. She goes to see Dr. Krakower, a recommendation from Tony’s therapist, Dr. Melfi.
“He was a teacher of mine,” Melfi tells Carmela.
It’s immediately clear upon the reveal of Carmela in his office—she’s dressed in an uncharacteristic grey wool suit—that Krakower is not the nurturing mother figure that Melfi is to Tony, the Cancer archetype if you will. He is an elder, a Capricorn archetype—wizened and hardened by many decades of experience.
Carmela explains that though her husband is unfaithful and she’s considering divorce, her Catholic faith and belief that he’s ultimately a decent man and good father prevents her from leaving.
“You tell me he’s a depressed criminal. Prone to anger. Serially unfaithful. Is that your definition of a good man?” Krakower replies, reiterating her uncomfortable truth. Carmela gets upset. The word “mafia” is tossed around, Carmela’s own implication in Tony’s criminal life brought to light. Sobbing and emotional, she gets up to leave.
“You can leave now or you can hear what I have to say,” Krakower says as she gets up.
"Well. you’re going to charge the same anyway.”
"I won’t take your money.”
"That’s a new one,” snarks Carmela as she once again sits down.
He continues, “You must trust your initial impulse and consider leaving him. You’ll never be able to feel good about yourself. Never be able to quell the feelings of guilt and shame that you talked about. As long as you’re his accomplice.”
"You’re wrong about the accomplice part though,” says Carmela.
"Are you sure?”
"All I do is make sure he’s got clean clothes in his closet and dinner on his table.”
"So enabler would be a more accurate job description than an accomplice. My apologies,” Krakower chimes in again, reminding Carmela that she is a nurturer. A lunar figure. The moon. A satellite.
“So. You think I need to, ah, define my boundaries more clearly and keep a certain distance. Not internalize my …”
"What did I just say?”
"Leave him.”
"Take only the children—what’s left of them—and go.”
“I would have to … get a lawyer, find an apartment. Arrange for child support.”
"You’re not listening. I’m not charging you because I won’t take blood money. And you can’t either. One thing you can never say. That you haven’t been told.”
"I see. You’re right, I see.”
Like Carmela, we may be faced with a thorny truth with this Full Moon. Something that after we hear it, we can’t say we’ve never been told. This is uncomfortable information. Or maybe it’s more of a blast from the past. A reminder of how far we’ve come. This Full Moon opposes Pluto, where we’re forced to look decay in the eye. Solutions are never as simple as taking the moral high road. This lunation lights up only one narrative in our larger, sprawling story. Disrupting everything in the hopes of being good or easing the pain isn’t the answer. But acknowledging where we’re at, whether that’s exhausted or elated, absolutely is. This Full Moon is overwhelming, emotional, possibly painful. But it’s also invigorating and bright.
The next time we see Carmela, she’s huddled on the couch at home, wrapped in a throw blanket with Valentine’s hearts. Napping. Depressed. Before, she was heavy with the weight of resentment and now she’s heavy with the weight acknowledgment. Tony comes home and asks if she’s feeling okay.
“Everyone else in this family sleeps all day. I thought I’d try it.”
No matter how illuminating this Full Moon is, we’re still in a collective holding place. It’s okay to collapse and take a rest. Mars is retrograde, already at the degree where he will station direct on the 12th. The wheels that revved up in August, and started spinning back in October have come to a complete stall. Mars is in Gemini and his ruler Mercury is also retrograde until the 18th. Revelations come hard and fast, today and this weekend. The vibes might even be good. But the mood is still exhausted. There’s a cathartic release. But taking on too much now or pushing ever forward will only lead to more frustration.
“You look like you could use a night off from cooking,” Tony says to Carmela. “Why don’t we go out?”
She gets up as “Black Books” by Nils Lofgren begins to play. Simple and delicate guitar picks fill the space. She walks into the light and upstairs. We get a view of her sprawling and melancholy McMansion.
One last time from Freddie's Joint
We drove out to Lover's Point
Shared our last kiss eye to eye
Spoke of tender times long past
Said they weren't meant to last
Too many different needs to satisfy
Though we’ve reached a climax, life goes on. How we move forward is the choice. How we move forward is what matters. But what happens doesn’t need to be drastic. Celebrate what feels good, and hold what’s difficult. Sit in the feelings and make yourself comfortable. We’re going to be here for another little while.
Short horoscope notes follow for each sign. Read for your rising sign to get the most accurate take on what’s “actually” “happening.” Read for your Sun (if you’re born during the day), or your Moon (if you’re born at night) if you, like Carmela, want a second opinion. Take what makes sense and leave what doesn’t. These horoscopes are meant to be found.
My books are open through the end of February, and I’m “extending” my end of year/new year sale one last time until the end of the day today (1/6). Use code 2023 for 20% OFF all full length readings. xo
Cancer
This full moon is in your sign, bringing a culmination for your health, image and identity. It’s hard not to take things personally right now, and it’s even harder to hide your shine. How is your identity being reflected back to you in this moment?
Leo
This full moon falls in your twelfth house—the place of hidden things, what we can’t control. Are you lit up and restless or are you letting yourself sleep? What tiny actions can you take to soothe some of those overwhelming anxieties?
Virgo
This full moon falls in your eleventh house—the place where we gain friends, influence people and make dreams come true. It feels overwhelming to receive this much support, but doesn’t it also feel good? It’s in your best interest to be tender, to move toward what fortifies you.
Libra
This full moon falls in your tenth house—the place of leadership and career. What do you need to sort out at home so that your public life can thrive? Maybe the answer is as simple as allowing more comfort in your day to day. You don’t have to do it all to be a success.
Scorpio
This full moon falls in your ninth house—the place of journeys, higher learning and expanding your mind. What skills do you need to acquire so that you can make your big dreams come true? Take it slow, but commit to learning.
Sagittarius
This full moon falls in your eighth house—the place of debts, taxes and the occult. The spells you’re casting right now aren’t pipe dreams. They just might come true. What are those last lingering self-sabotaging habits? Can you kick them for good?
Capricorn
This full moon falls in your seventh house—the place of relationships, agreements, and other people. Some connections hold us tight while others make us feel like we’re always grasping for something. Are you ready to let go and reach in a different direction? Or do you just want to hold on tighter?
Aquarius
This full moon falls in your sixth house—the place of work and maintenance. Discipline is regulating but what if you broke it for today? For the weekend? Took a break or a pause or went off the grid? There’s something quiet worth exploring. Go there.
Pisces
This full moon falls in your fifth house—the place of romance, creativity and desire. There’s joy in creating for an audience, but there’s an even deeper joy in making something only for yourself. How can you cultivate more creativity day to day? Who inspires you to make things happen?
Aries
This full moon falls in your fourth house—the place of home, family, and private life. How have you cultivated your little corner of the world over the past six months? Are you satisfied with your safe space? Check to see who’s hanging out around the edges. You may want to invite them inside.
Taurus
This full moon falls in your third house—the place of neighbors and close friends. You don’t need to go far from home to find something that lights you up. Today, there’s magic in your orbit so don’t take it for granted. What wisdom can you mine from this simplicity?
Gemini
This full moon falls in your second house—the place of resources and nourishment. You might be feeling extra vulnerable today. Or you might be feeling over-fed. What’s making you sick to your stomach? Is there someone you can ask for support?
the best take on this moon I’ve read thank you and Carmela!!