July 2nd, 2019 // 12:16pm PDT Three days before the summer solstice and the start of Cancer season, I found myself on a chilly Pacific beach littered with crab shells. Tangled among ropes of seaweed, there were hundreds of them, the empty shells deposited on the sand by the tide. My partner and I wandered the beach for hours, combing the ocean’s flotsam for treasures and marveling at the crab shells, some tiny and some six inches across, many with legs and claws and eye stems

This summer has been a struggle. For me, for most of my friends, for many of you. We’ve risen to challenges and surmounted obstacles. We’ve fought battle after battle at work and at home, online and IRL, with others and with ourselves. We’ve held ourselves open and accountable through 7 retrogrades (8 if you count Chiron) and 3 eclipses, trying our damnedest to listen and learn and figure out how to grow into an existence that feels right and true to us. And right now, many o

This Cancer new moon teaches us about security and vulnerability. It teaches us about holding and withholding, sharing and protecting. Here, we learn about the cosmic crab that carries its house on its back. We learn about the shell that keeps us safe, impenetrable, hidden. We learn about the soft, emotional insides beneath that shell and all the truths, needs, and wounds that we guard so fiercely there. This partial solar eclipse is going to crack that shell, friends. It’s g