Happy Cancer New Moon, Goddesses,

With Mercury retrograde accompanying this Cancer New Moon, it feels only right that we begin there.

Mercury retrograde often gets blamed for missed emails, delayed flights, and technology glitches.

But sometimes its greatest gift is much quieter than that.

Sometimes it returns us to a conversation, a feeling, or a memory, not to trap us in the past, but to help us understand how that past has been quietly shaping the way we love, build, receive, and belong.

This Cancer New Moon doesn't ask us to relive our history.

It asks us to listen for what our history has been trying to teach us all along.

Those of you who journey with me each New and Full Moon know these reflections always begin the same way. I start with the astrology, spending time with the current transits and noticing how they are interacting with my own natal chart. From there, I create a tarot spread and allow the conversation between the sky, the cards, and my own life to unfold.

This month, Mercury retrograde in Cancer had memories waiting for me.

Some I hadn't thought about in years.

Some I thought I had already made peace with.

After several hours of reflecting, I reached for my very first tarot deck, the Modern Witch Tarot. It was the first deck I bought when I was ready to learn tarot. The box is worn. The cards are a little sticky. It even smells like old crayons.

Before I shuffled, I intentionally went through each suit and the Major Arcana, making sure every card was still there. When I finished, it felt like I had reset the deck.

The card underneath the deck was the Ace of Wands.

As I sat with the image, one thought kept coming to me.

Now what?

Not,

"What happened?"

But,

What wants to begin because you now understand what happened?

Almost as if the Ace of Wands was whispering,

"Yes, remember."

"Yes, reflect."

"But don't forget you're here to create."

Mercury retrograde often returns us to the past.

But the Ace reminds us that memory is not the end of the story.

Memory is kindling.

Kindling doesn't exist to be admired.

It exists to help us build a fire.

Maybe that's what Mercury retrograde is really offering us this month.

Not memories for memory's sake…

But memories that illuminate who we have become and what is ready to be born next.

So before we turn to the cards, I'd like to invite you to the same question I carried to my altar.

What's your kindling?

What memory, conversation, experience, or season of your life keeps asking to be acknowledged, not so you can live there again, but because it still has something to teach you?

With that question resting on my heart, I shuffled the cards.

Modern Witch Tarot by Lisa Sterle

Honor

What memory is this Cancer New Moon inviting me to honor, not relive, but honor?

Death

In the 1980s, I was one of the children (1 in 200,000) impacted by the puzzling outbreak of Rheumatic Fever, a rare childhood disease that left me temporarily paralyzed and alone in a military hospital for over a month.

It was a scary time.

I almost died.

But I didn't.

I did not remain paralyzed.

I came home.

And I have lived.

As I looked at the Death card, I was immediately drawn to the little brown girl standing before Death. She is not dead. She is not asleep. She is not bargaining with Death like some of the other figures on the card. She is offering Death a flower, a gift.

I realized that perhaps that childhood experience gave me a gift too.

Not because I would ever choose that experience.

But because it taught me how to sit with uncomfortable physical experiences, uncomfortable emotional experiences, and uncomfortable spiritual experiences.

For a long time, that experience only resurfaced during doctor's appointments because Rheumatic Fever left me with a heart murmur. Doctors were fascinated by it. They would often call in their medical students or nurses to listen to my heart.

Somewhere along the way, I secretly began calling myself The Heart Whisperer because my heart could whisper to the hearts of so many.

I know that name has quietly shaped my life's work.

I have never been interested in fixing people. In fact, I don't believe there is anything about any of us that needs fixing. We are each beautifully and wonderfully made.

My life's work has been about listening deeply enough to hear what your heart has been trying to say.

Wisdom

What have I learned that I don't want to lose?

Five of Cups

When I placed the Five of Cups beside the Death card, it almost looked like the next scene in the story.

The little girl had offered Death a flower.

Now the woman stood quietly after the funeral.

Not running.

Not pretending everything was okay.

Just standing beside what had been lost.

Most tarot readers, including myself, would probably encourage someone to turn around and notice the two cups still standing.

That wisdom has its place.

But because the Death card came first, I realized this wasn't the lesson I needed.

Looking at these two cards together, I realized what I don't want to lose.

My willingness not to rush past disappointment, heartbreak, or disillusionment.

To stay with it.

To grieve it.

To say,

"You know what? This hurts."

Yes, I know life keeps moving.

Yes, I know there is fulfillment on the other side.

But for now…

Let me sit with what is hurting me.

Let me sit with what is hurting you.

Let me honor its place in the journey before we cross to the other side.

Looking at these two cards together, the Five of Cups suddenly feels like The Heart Whisperer's card.

Not because it loves sadness.

Because it honors it.

Release

What belief no longer belongs in the next chapter of my story?

Queen of Swords

The Queen of Swords brought me back to my Saturn-Mercury conjunction in Cancer.

Words have always mattered to me.

The Bible tells us that the power of life and death is in the tongue, and somewhere along the way I learned to be careful with my words.

To think before I spoke.

To hold my communication back.

To not say the thing.

Years later, when I was first learning Reiki, I had a powerful experience surrounding my throat chakra. It left me with a deep knowing that I needed to speak up.

I needed to say the thing.

Even now, I still struggle with that.

Most people probably wouldn't believe it because my work involves so much speaking and teaching, but internally I am constantly asking myself,

"Should I say this?"

"Should I say that?"

I learned very early to be mature with my language.

But somewhere along the way, that maturity became a burden.

I became really good at listening…

but not so good at sharing.

I did not say what I was feeling for fear that it would make someone uncomfortable.

Looking at the Queen of Swords, I realized what no longer belongs in the next chapter of my story.

The old belief that I have to have the right words before I'm allowed to have the feeling.

The old belief that my voice has to be impeccable before it deserves to be heard.

Reorientation

How is God inviting me to experience "home" differently now?

Four of Pentacles

The first thing I saw when I looked at this card wasn't someone holding tightly to their pentacles.

I saw a librarian.

She wears an oversized red coat over black clothing with these adorable glasses hanging from a chain around her neck. Behind her is a bustling city.

Immediately, I thought of one of my newest teachers, Bella da Costa Greene, the remarkable curator who built J. P. Morgan's extraordinary library into what is now The Morgan Library & Museum in New York City.

Bella was brilliant.

Self-taught.

Bold.

She became one of the most respected librarians and rare book experts of her time because she knew how to recognize what was truly valuable.

She didn't simply collect beautiful things.

She learned how to discern the authentic from the counterfeit.

She protected priceless collections because she understood their worth.

I've been spending time with Bella lately, and if you've never heard of her, I hope you'll look her up. Her story is remarkable. One of the many things she has been teaching me is that discernment is an act of devotion.

As I sat with this card, I realized that perhaps this is how God is inviting me to experience home differently.

Home is becoming the place from which I practice discernment.

Not everyone needs access to every part of me.

Not because I am building walls.

But because I am learning the value of what has been entrusted to my care.

Bella taught herself so she could recognize what belonged in the collection.

Perhaps I am being invited to do the same.

If I don't know the value of the wisdom, stories, and gifts I have been entrusted to care for, someone else may convince me that something counterfeit belongs in the archive.

Or worse…

I may give away something precious before fully recognizing its value.

Home isn't a fortress.

Home is a well-curated archive where I know the value of the wisdom, beauty, and truth that have been entrusted to me.

Cultivation

What is asking to be nurtured over this lunar cycle?

Three of Swords

As memories continued to surface throughout the day, I found myself close to tears.

To be fair, I woke up that morning already carrying the urge to cry.

Lately, I have found myself looking back over my life.

Being a parent.

Being a partner.

Being a friend.

Being a daughter.

Being a sister.

There are moments where I can clearly see how I have fallen short, and that realization makes me sad.

Looking back now, I honestly believe I did the best I could with the level of consciousness and wisdom I had at the time.

I know I loved my children.

I know I loved my partners.

I know I loved my friends.

I know I did the best I could.

That doesn't mean there weren't hurts.

I am still growing.

I still want to be more present with my children.

I want to cultivate healthier relationships ~ both platonic and romantic.

I want to be a better daughter.

A better sister.

A better friend.

But as I sat with the Three of Swords, I realized something.

Before I can become more loving with others…

I must first become more loving with myself.

Forgiving myself.

Being gentle with myself when these memories come up.

Reminding myself that I am exactly the woman I am today because of every experience that has shaped me ~ the good, the bad and the ugly.

This lunar cycle is asking me to nurture…

My beautiful Heart Whispering heart.

Blessing

What does the little girl in the hospital need the woman I have become to know?

Ace of Cups

The spread began with an Ace.

It ended with an Ace.

I smiled.

Her cup runneth over with love for me.

And I am like…

"Right back at ya, girlie."

The little girl who almost died became the woman whose heart overflows.

Before You Go…

I'd love to leave you with one final invitation.

If you have a childhood photo that you're willing to share, I'd love to see it.

Send me a picture of your younger self along with one sentence answering this question:

What does the child in this picture need the adult you have become to know?

I'd be honored to witness what comes forward.

I am so grateful for all of you who read and respond. This has been such a joyful practice because you are part of it. 

Happy New Moon