Mars In Cancer: Sanctuary or Cage?
I was afraid to move; I was afraid to break the silence.
I sat in my office for far too long, staring at that text message.
At first, all I saw were the initials of your name.
It took me a moment to comprehend what was just given to me.
The four numbers following those three letters finally came into focus, but they had completely stopped my brain from processing anything else.
I felt myself take a deep, indrawn breath, and what filled my lungs was anger.
Once again, I imagined throwing my phone against the wall.
Mike from IT had been incredibly supportive, trying to help me regain access to our updated system so I could check my end-of-day reports — even though he was technically off the clock at home, dealing with this at 6 a.m.
Still, I wanted to yell at him. I contemplated texting him back with just one word:
“Really?”
Apparently, the new update had defaulted to the original password, and that original password just happened to start with your three initials.
I have been through years of resetting this password and never has it included your initials-
in consecutive order or otherwise.
The many upgrades and changes in the store over the last two weeks were supposed to make everything better.
Is it any wonder that I have so little faith in technology?
I’ve always believed that technology is only as great as its creators and the people utilizing it.
If we are all imperfect, how could anything ever be perfect — unless, of course, we strip away our flaws and all of our humanity along with it?
Is that really what we want — a world with no imperfections?
What would our lives be like with no challenges?
It sounds a lot like how heaven was described to me.
The truth is, I’ve never wanted to imagine dying and going to heaven.
Maybe it’s all my Plutonian energy, but the idea of rebirth and new beginnings has always excited me far more than the stale notion of arriving at the mountaintop and never facing another climb.
But I digress.
That morning, before arriving at work, I had woken up thinking about all the upgrades in the store and the new updates to the system.
I pondered how there was so much change around me that maybe it was time to update other aspects of my life as well — namely, to move on from all thoughts of you.
Once again, I contemplated the man who had come into the store and given me his phone number, wanting to take me out to dinner.
I also revisited the idea of that dating website.
The phone number had been sitting on my desk at home for a week, and although I had researched the dating site again last night, I never signed up.
As of this morning, however, I felt like I was getting closer to letting go of whatever this nothing is with you.
I even mentally high-fived myself for almost feeling no desire to visit you today.
Until I received that text message, all I had been thinking was that yes, it was time to move on.
I had even flippantly decided to adopt your own words:
afterall, “Why not?”
Perhaps it was the moon that controlled the tides, dictating not only how the waves broke against the shore but also the rhythm of her emotions as she gravitated toward this beach.
But it wasn’t the moon that called to her this evening.
It was Mars.
It wasn’t every day that she felt aligned with Mars.
But recently, everything had changed, and with it, she felt the need to find the security that lies within its influence.
Every time she searched for its energy, she found the place within herself that allowed her to just be.
No prying eyes.
No one needing anything from her.
What a contradiction she was — a few weeks ago she was peering out windows, longing to get out.
This week, she wished for the sanctuary of four walls and felt an incredible pull to be alone.
It was Mars that had drawn her to this haven, a place where she could escape.
Here, away from everyone else, she felt an overwhelming sense of freedom, as if there were no limits to what she could experience.
No one would judge her for the emptiness reflected in her eyes.
She was so very tired.
Tired of not having the time to feel like herself.
It felt as though her Aries Sun sign ruled each and every day recently, with countless beginnings that remained unrefined and without conclusion.
There were little fires everywhere, but none had been given the proper oxygen and nurturing to grow into something of actual substance and meaning.
And as she stood there, the cool breeze wrapping around her like a soothing blanket, she realized that perhaps this moment of solitude was exactly what she needed to reignite those fires.
It was time to nurture the embers within her, to tend to her own heart’s desires.
The rhythm of the waves mirrored the pulsing of her spirit, calling her back to life.
In the distance, she saw a flicker of light from the horizon — a metaphorical star signaling that change was possible if only she embraced the stillness long enough to reflect and gather her strength.
With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, allowing the energy of Mars to flow through her, sparking the first glimmers of hope amid the shadows.
It was not the end of her journey; it was merely the beginning of a new chapter.
Venus needs Mars, and Mars needs Venus — it is the two pieces of the whole that make love go round in our universe.
This is a concept traditionally expressed by astrologers, and those who recall the book “Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus” likely share the sentiment.
But what about the Moon?
Like the lunar occultations this year, the Moon has long overshadowed Mars.
During the occultation of Mars, Mars heard the insistent whisper of the Moon.
In its true Gemini form, my Moon speaks of wisdom and intellect, rationalizing every bit of reason to dampen the fiery passion embodied by Mars.
Just as my Venus in Pisces finds spiritual awareness and love in otherworldly realms, attempting to romanticize every part of my current story — seeing the synchronicity of every number, and how each image on social media seems to convey all the things I hope you want to say to me.
Mars in Cancer, on the other hand, is said by astrologers to be in its detriment, but is it?
One might think that Mars, when placed in the fire element (think Aries), would not contribute positively; wouldn’t that exacerbate the already intense heat of the fiery planets?
Yet, many astrologers agree that when Mars finds itself in the element of water — specifically, in Cancer — is when it is most profoundly affected.
The planet Mars reflects the character of our anger, ambition, and even sexual desire- dependent upon its sign and element.
This placement ultimately determines how we face storms and measures our strength and courage to overcome challenges.
In Cancer, there exists the potential to withhold anger and aggression because, true to crab-like fashion, we may seek shelter within ourselves instead of releasing these potentially destructive emotions.
Mars in Cancer can also introduce passive-aggressiveness into relationships, but conversely, it can foster a smoldering passion where anger is expressed without words — through locked gazes and bodies that push each other away one moment, only to grasp for closeness the next.
Hands intertwine, bound by vibrant energy, speaking volumes even when silence reigns.
But what if there is no relationship you are in?
According to astrology, the man in your life is meant to represent Mars, while Venus should symbolize the woman in a man’s life.
If you are a woman without a significant other, does it not make sense that your own Mars would learn to care for the Venus within you?
I often feel this push and pull between them.
Venus in Pisces and Mars in Cancer reside in the same element of water, yet the fish within me yearns to swim free with every wave of emotion.
Pisces fears not the exploration of love, believing it holds the answer to everything.
The crab, however, demands sensible boundaries and often speaks so loudly (it appears to be the alpha between the two) that the fish has no choice but to remain within the underwater cave built by the crab.
Is it possible that this is why I feel drawn to the Hermit tarot card, yet also repelled by it?
With your Mars in Cancer, do you ever feel conflicted in the same way?
These are the thoughts that occupy my mind on nights when I am striving to distract myself and reflect on something other than you.
Most nights, it is not my knowledge of astrology that brings me peace enough to sleep.
Rather, like last night, I drift off with the vivid sensation that your mouth had found my neck, while your hands had found my waist, each fingertip and graze of your lips allows me to be unguarded and free, surrendering to the quiet comfort of your embrace as our dreams entwine.
Last night, an irresistible pull guided me toward what I can only describe as your magic — the very essence you’ve spoken of.
It is not I who possesses this power; from the very beginning, you have been the keeper of the spells that bind my heart to yours.
Why else would my body feel so utterly compelled by you?
Alone in the quiet of the night, clutching nothing but my extra pillow, I found myself breathless, a tension coiling within me like the whisper of a forgotten dream.
The very thought of you against me ignited a fervor that only you could conjure, drawing me back into your embrace, even if only in the folds of time or an alternate realm.
An intense longing enveloped me, leaving me trembling in the velvety darkness of my room, as I drifted on the edges of something profound and beautiful — lost in the depths to which you have taken me.
Breath after breath, I caught and released the essence of you until, at last, I felt a profound sense of completion.
Why does your need resonate so intensely within me, pulsing like a heartbeat in perfect sync with my own?
So many numbers, so many signs twinkling in the universe.
My mom was always the voice that gave me confidence in my abilities. She made me feel seen, understood, and loved for my ambition and desire to be different.
She believed in my voice and always trusted that I could accomplish anything because of my drive and tenacity.
After my mom passed, It took years to find my way back to seeking something more for myself other than what my promotions handed to me through my retail management experience.
Years ago I began a quest to discover my calling online. During this journey, I noticed the number 444 appearing repeatedly, as if it showed up with every choice I made that led me toward authenticity.
The more I aligned my decisions with my true purpose, the more I encountered this number. With each step forward, despite my doubts, it felt as if the universe was reassuring me, saying, “Don’t lose faith in yourself.”
I admit I felt a surge of anger when I learned my son was moving in with someone who had three fours tattooed on their neck.
Why my numbers?
It has taken me this long to realize that this was the universe’s way of guiding me.
In losing my son to that relationship over the past year, haven’t I also been on a journey to letting him go on his own adult path and also rediscovering myself?
I lost my mom, and in the wake of that profound loss, I came across the concept of synchronicity.
It felt impossible that her beautiful heart was taken by “God” at such a young age for no reason.
I believe there must be a greater purpose beyond our understanding. Perhaps the spirits of those who embody purity are needed for a more significant reason, contributing to a higher consciousness that enriches our shared humanity.
This connection between life and a larger spiritual framework offered me hope and meaning as I navigated my grief.
The numbers brought me comfort- a guiding voice in the absence of my Mom’s wisdom.
I understand the significance of 444, but what about 825, 826, and 827?
While 826 has been a book mark in my life as well as even 827, I still can’t help wonder about 825.
Each of these numbers seems to carry a profound meaning.
What message is the universe trying to share with me?
Is it merely coincidence, or are these synchronicities woven into the fabric of fate?
Your initials appeared just when I thought I was finally ready to let you go.
I find myself typing them to access my multiple end of day reports every morning, over and over… but why?
Is it my longing, my heart wanting to believe that the universe is saying,
“No, don’t turn your back on him,” because, deep down, I truly don’t want to?
Perhaps you represent safety for me.
As long as I focus on you, I can shield myself from the risks of others and ultimately the damage in love that often I cause for myself.
Mars beckoned to her, almost enveloping the ocean’s horizon.
The mirage of glittering gold delivered by the ocean’s arms was a vision she had daydreamed about for as long as she could remember.
If real gold had been beneath her feet instead of the precious sand, she could not have been happier than she was in this moment.
It wasn’t just the tiny grains of sea dust that filled her with joy; it was the way the waves tugged at them, almost as if they were suddenly regretful for letting them escape.
The waves seemed to call for their return, pleading like outstretched hands reaching for what was lost.
Initially, she lay down, reveling in the sandpaper texture clinging to her feet.
She used her toes to sift through and absorb the sensation of each particle of sand that stuck to her body.
Like a cat rubbing against its human’s legs, she felt immersed in the sensation of sand as it filtered between her toes.
She couldn’t help but delight in the coarse texture that enveloped her.
Looking at the sky, she was reminded of her childhood love for clouds.
This affection was not just about the shapes they formed; it encompassed the science behind their existence in our environment.
She recalled their names as if they were old friends from her past. Cumulus and Stratus were the ones she remembered easily.
After watching “Clash of the Titans,” she realized the names were bestowed upon them almost as if there had been serious debate occurring up there.
With the pillars and towers that shielded each of these gods, it made sense that they also had a sea of clouds with names as regal as their divine counterparts.
The water nipping at her toes shook her from getting lost in the sky, which, if given time, she could fill with imaginary characters in another dimension full of her stories.
As she walked ashore, out of reach of the ocean’s gentle waves, she found a perfect spot to build what she hoped would be a fortress — a place that might provide her with reprieve from what was absent in her life.
Her fingers dug into the sand surrounding her castle.
If she created trenches and filled them with water, wouldn’t she be better prepared for any storm?
After all, couldn’t that prevent damage from the incoming tide?
It never worked that way.
Even as a child, she remembered watching her three little brothers dash toward the receding water, then quickly, amidst their shrieks of fear, run back toward the safety of the shore as the water surged with vigorous power.
Who were they to think they could outrun the ocean’s strides?
She could gather wood and rocks to fortify the perimeter with walls, but the truth was that as long as outside elements were at play, the need to rebuild would always exist.
She was torn by that knowledge.
Rebuilding was what she had always done.
If it didn’t fall apart because of someone or something else, then she knew she would be the cause of its destruction herself.
Rebuilding stopped being something forced upon her; instead, she sought to take the upper hand by being the cause of the need for it.
Was this her way of reinforcing the idea that being alone was the only place that was truly safe?
In her peripheral vision, she was shaken again from these reflective thoughts by two little crabs, stoic in their suits of armor, approaching her castle.
It was because of them that she was reminded of Mars and its influence on both her and him.
Mars, for both of us, like these crabs, dwells in the depths of Cancer’s waters.
Because of this, we navigate our anger, passion, and ambition with caution.
Would our similarities draw us closer, or would they ultimately keep us apart?
The shells we wore were a comfort, but just as the crabs needed to shed their exteriors to grow, perhaps we too had to reveal our softer sides to truly connect.
Could we, being of the same element, hope to be vulnerable with each other, even if it meant hiding from everyone else?
With others, she felt the need to keep her heart enclosed within its shell.
If she spoke about her dreams, fantasies, and ambitions, would they not gaze at her with that distant look, the one that told her they could never truly understand her because they had never experienced the same?
As she built her castle, she pondered whether it would become a sanctuary for processing fears together or if it would stand as an imposing fortress, trapping them within their own protective shells.
If they could find strength beneath their armored façades — not just for themselves, but for each other — perhaps they could build not just walls, but bridges.