A lunar field note for those who feel deeply
You are exactly where you need to be—
unfinished, becoming,
a quiet miracle in motion.
Whole. Imperfect. A living poem.
(Cancer Season: June 20 – July 22)
I. Emotional Climate
A poetic introduction to Cancer’s archetypal terrain
Cancer season speaks in whispers.
Governed by the moon, it pulls at water and memory alike. This is a time of inwardness, maternal wisdom, and the ache of remembering. You may find yourself moving in tides — longing, then stillness; sweetness, then grief. Let it all move through you.
You are not unraveling.
You are returning to yourself.
II. A Day in Devotion
A rhythmic guide to moving through Cancer season with grace
Morning: Soft Entry
Wake slowly.
Let water greet your mouth before you speak.
Light a candle before turning to screens.
This is your womb hour. Guard it with tenderness.
Midday: Emotional Pulse
Let your energy follow the tide.
Don’t override emotion, translate it.
Tend to something living: a plant, a memory, yourself.
Afternoon: Creative Nourishment
Let tenderness lead your work.
Make something imperfect. Let it resemble a feeling.
Nostalgia is not regression. It is a form of design.
Evening: Return to Waters
Draw a bath.
Oil your chest, belly and thighs.
Play a song that once broke you open.
Follow the memory.
Rest.
Night: Privacy & Dreaming
Our dreams are not random. They are instruction.
Place moonstone under your pillow.
Write one sentence before sleep: What do I long to remember?
Dream.
III. Botanical Note: Jasmine
Scent as psychic signature
Known across cultures as the scent of longing, jasmine carries the quiet wisdom of womanhood. It lingers without asking. It is noticed without needing to be.
Like you, it moves through the world with tenderness. Now let that tenderness turn inward. Invite jasmine to scent your solitude. Let it become part of the way you remember yourself.
V. Living Softly
A quiet manifesto
Feel
Emotions are the vapors of the soul. Let them rise, drift, and dissolve.
Indulge
Tenderness is your birthright.
Give without witness. Love without applause.
Receive without shame.
Curate
Gather the invisible threads of your truth.
Beauty does not beg to be noticed, nor explained.
Protect
The sacred does not perform.
Let the unseen be your sanctuary.
Mystery is not absence.
Intuition
Do not chase clarity like it is the prize.
Allow some things in your life to speak in soft focus.
IV. Intuitive Tool of the Season
Moonstone: The pause before awakening.
Hold it close when you cannot explain what you are feeling. It will not fix, but it will reflect what you need to see.
VI. Cultural Moodboard
A curated world to dwell in this season
Book: The Book of Disquiet, Fernando Pessoa
A fragmented interior monologue for those who live twice — in the world, and in thought.
Film: In the Mood for Love, Wong Kar-wai
Color as memory. Time as scent. Love as restraint.
Artifact: Handwoven African Indigo Textile
A cloth that remembers more than most books do
Artwork: Hilma af Klint
Abstraction as spirit-mapping. A woman ahead of her time — and uninterested in being seen.
VII. Nourishment
A ceremonial drink for the tender creator
Intimate Infusion
Jasmine · Oatstraw · Fennel
Jasmine, a lullaby for the nervous heart.
Oatstraw quiets the storm within.
Fennel stokes warmth in the belly.
Steep slowly. Sip with both hands.
A small ritual. A way back to yourself.
VIII. Inward Bloom
Tarot Archetypes for the Cancer Season
The High Priestess
Mystery is not a void, but a womb.
Befriend your inner knowing.
It remembers what you forgot to trust.
Let The High Priestess guide your design palette this month — veiled softness, lunar shapes, intuitive lines.
The Empress
Learn the language of care: ripe fruit, soft fabric, honeyed light.
Softness is strategy.
Tend to yourself as you do to others.
Let The Empress inform how you style a home or dress a client — sensual texture, curved forms, care as aesthetic.
The Star
Stillness after the storm.
Stay open.
Let longing become luminosity.
Let The Star shape your beauty ritual — clarity, transparency, skin lit from within.
IX. Sanctum
Objects that restore
To wear memory around the neck
A single pearl, like a word unsaid.
Soft armor for the tender-hearted.
Salt, pressed into beauty.
You carry the ocean without drowning.
To pour with presence
Water waits in glass like silence in a poem.
Pour slowly —this is how we learn to listen.
To hold what doesn’t need hiding
A womb with windows.
Carry only what breathes.
The visible and the sacred —
woven together, like you.
To store sweetness and memory
A bowl for what softens.
Sea-shaped, sky-colored —
Fill it with jasmine tea, salt tears,
or tiny notes you wrote yourself.
You have tuned in.
Somewhere between memory and moonlight, you found The Signal.
Our love letters arrive with the moon.
Join The Circle
