Cancer Man and Aquarius Woman Compatibility
So this was the truth about mothers. The toads!
. . . he was so full of wrath against grown-ups, who as usual
were spoiling everything, that as soon as he got inside his
tree, he breathed intentionally quick short breaths at the
rate of about five to a second. He did this because there
was a saying in the Neverland that everytime you breathe a
grown-up dies; and Peter was killing them off as fast as possible.
Wendy melted …
The first mistake an Aquarian girl can make with a Cancer man is to try to jolly him out of his attachment to the memories of home and mother with the Aquarian’s sensible attitude that yesterday is past, today is unimportant – and he ought to be mature enough to realize that all important matters lie in the future, not in emotionally clinging to what is gone and can never return in quite the same shape or form. She may even go as far as to tell him to grow up. (Aquarians are not renowned for their tact, being very much like Archers in respect of a tendency toward blunt speech.)
The Crab will intensely resent her attempt to mature his emotional outlook. He may even snap at her, climb inside his cozy tree of memory and never come back out – until he’s sure she’s not around to hassle and hurt and frustrate him with her jolting, bolting Uranian thunderbolts of realism. It’s .. . well, it’s frightening. It makes him very, very lonely to discover that the woman he loves has no compassion for his nostalgic need to occasionally drift back to the safe, secure days of childhood when he’s particularly upset by the harshness of the world, the uncaring attitude of his friends and associates. He never really wanted to become an adult. Like Geminis, deep inside, every Cancerian man, regardless of his age or material success, secretly wishes he could have remained a boy. When he was a boy, there were so many wonders over which to marvel… so many things that made him both weep and giggle. And he enjoys surrendering himself to the extremes of the emotional gamut. It somehow seems to loosen his imagination, allowing it to take him on marvelous trips of fancy, like a private flying carpet, woven of dreams.
“Stuffy,” he’ll tell himself. “That’s what she is. Stuffy.” She has no imagination, he decides. She thinks and talks like a man. Acts like one too. Well, he’s not looking to fall in love with a masculine realist. He’s looking to fall in love with a dear, sweet, feminine creature of perfection like Mama.
He is wrong, of course. The very last thing this girl should be accused of is stuffiness. But that just happens to be the Crab’s favorite word (next to “cruel”) for the woman who won’t cry with him and laugh with him, who refuses to synchronize herself to his own fluctuating moods. As I’ve said before, in other Aquarian chapters of this book, the Uranus-ruled have an odd habit of weeping when they’re overjoyed and laughing crazily when they’re broken-hearted. It will take the Cancerian man some time to comprehend this – not to mention his difficulty in learning how to handle her reverse switches of disposition, from tomboy to princess, from gentle and languid to brisk and abrupt. Serves him right, really. He’s so moody himself. With this woman, he’ll be forced to swallow his own moody medicine. She’s quite changeable, her whims and fancies even more unpredictable than his own. They’re a motley couple, to be sure.
The Aquarian girl isn’t lacking in sympathy, but she does tend to scatter it around in the direction of major humanitarian concerns, and sometimes forgets to save enough for her personal relationships. But she isn’t heartless, and she does have feelings. When she realizes the hurt she’s causing in the gentle Cancerian man she loves, she’ll do her best to make it up to him, to show him she really does care about him. The problem lies in the ways she chooses to demonstrate her loving devotion and regard for her friend. (Everyone is her friend including her lover or husband. Is there a difference? If so, she finds it difficult to draw the line.)
She could, for example, coax him to join her and her several dozen other friends on a picnic in a tree house. She might hang a bunch of balloons over the dining room table some morning to surprise him at breakfast – and serve him a bowl of Grapenuts with little toy caterpillars on the top, arranged in the shape of a heart. (She won’t tell him they aren’t real, the caterpillars, until he’s already turned pale.) Or she could show her affection by confiding in him her private yearning to go to India and decorate the Taj Mahal with little decals of forget-me-nots and violets at midnight, when the guards aren’t looking. She’s convinced the sentimental emperor who built it as a memorial to his love for his wife would be pleased. “Good gawd!” he’ll exclaim, “that’s against the law!” Crabs, like Goats and Bulls, are usually very reluctant to break the law or shatter tradition, whereas most Aquarians delight in breaking every law and dancing upon tradition. Even the rare shy Aquarians at least daydream about flouting the rules.
All these gestures of tenderness from his Water Bearer might give the Lunar man a case of the shingles from pure nervous apprehension. But she’s trying. Can’t he at least give her credit for trying? He may. He may force himself to make a supreme effort and give this fascinating lady of the exciting mental architecture credit for trying. However, he may regret giving her other forms of credit. Like a joint checking account. The typical Aquarian way of balancing a checkbook follows the general outline of the way a clown juggles colored balls at the circus – in a kind of rotating, circular motion. He’ll be dismayed. Cancerians are normally nearly neurotically fussy when it comes to anything pertaining to cash outlay and inlay. Income and outgo. It’s all the same to Cancer. Watch it. Carefully. In view of how fussy he is about money, what right does he have to call her fussy? None.
She fell in love with him in the first place because she heard somewhere that Cancerians are lovable Looney Birds, and she’s always been attracted toward anything with the word “looney” in it. (Anything or anyoraej This is why his marvelous sense of humor may save the day for these two. During certain phases of the Moon and the retrograde motion of Uranus, it blends beautifully with her sense of the zany and the ridiculous. Like sex.
When she was climbing up the Aquarian beanstalk of girlhood into womanhood, she thought sex was rather funny. After she became a woman she thought it was hilarious. She still thinks it’s somewhat of an odd way for a man and a woman to express their need for each other – when, after all, they could be proving their mutual love by collecting money to build a statue to her solar energy hero Amory Lovins, finding Ralph Nader a girl type of buddy-friend to chum around with, who could ride behind him on his white horse, as he goes charging around on his crusades, scaring the corruption out of automotive giants and professional sports – and scaring the hell out of conglomerates. Like running barefoot through a field of wild flowers (being careful not to smash any petals, which of course means running an inch or so off the ground), adopting all the starving babies in India and China – lobbying in Washington for Congress to pass a law that everyone has to drive on the left-hand side of the street as they do in England, because that makes a whole lot more sense to her. He’ll go along with her concern for worldwide hunger and safe cars – but he won’t understand her leftish notions about driving and other matters (although he might wistfully dream of levitating a fraction of an inch over the field of jonquils). Still, he won’t allow these things to take priority over their physical closeness. The only thing he ever allows to take priority over affection and lovemaking is perhaps money – at odd times. Occasionally, also at even times.
Once she’s resigned herself to the recognition that sex is a necessity for total fulfillment between a man and a woman, she’ll thoroughly enjoy it, especially with her tender Crab. Unless they’re afflicted with a mutual square or opposition between Ascendents and Luminaries in their nativities, this man and woman will each answer the other’s silent call for the misty and the strange in their physical expression of love. They’re both a little haunted by various forms of the fey and the far-out, this being a shimmering link between them that frequently flashes with the brilliant colors of ecstasy and passion known only to those who allow their imaginations to guide their intimacies.
Gradually, he’ll discover that he was wrong about her lack of perception. She just appeared not to understand his deeper longings. In truth, she may be one of the very few people who’s ever been able to see beneath his Crab shell, his outward pose of respectability and seriousness, to the fanciful, gentle soul beneath the crusty exterior. It will surprise him when he learns this. She’s full of surprises .. . she vibrates to the unexpected. And her very unpredictability is what will eventually endear her to this man, who hates sameness and monotony as much as she does. His business associates will never guess this, but she won’t have to guess. She’ll know. His air of mothballs and his often courtly, old-fashioned manner won’t fool her for an instant. She knows he’d like to escape with her .. . to some faraway place where there are cool waterfalls and quiet woods. This instinctive Nature feeling permeates their lovemaking, often causing their sexual union to be as soothing as a midsummer night’s breeze. (Until the Puckish mischief in her emerges, and she slips into bed beside him some night, wearing around her neck a collar of antique sleigh bells, engraved with the date they first met – her surprise birthday gift to him.)
The explosives in their relationship will nearly always be labeled Cardinal and Fixed. He’s Cardinal, and will insist on leading, however soft his manner, however apparently (and deceptively) passive his surface personality may be. She’s Fixed, and will absolutely refuse to be dominated or guided. When she’s allowed to follow her own winding and twisting path, she’ll remain cheerful and light hearted. But each time he tries to change her direction or direct her course, she’ll become immovably stubborn, and either disappear into detachment or erupt into a Uranian electrical storm of anger. Her sudden spells of fury won’t last long, if she’s left alone to heal her injured spirit and is not nagged by the Crab. But if he continues to try to curb her freedom, her behavior will grow more and more unreasonable. There’s no use trying to confine her Air Element essence into a definite shape, and the sooner he learns this, the sooner harmony will be restored between them.
As for her, she’ll have to remember that while she’s excitedly traveling into tomorrow’s strange, new promise, he can’t help lingering behind, glancing over his shoulder toward yesterday’s familiar guarantee. The only way she can coax her Lunar-haunted man to catch up with her is to make him know that just beyond the horizon is a brighter star than he ever dared to wish on before. She should also not pry into his secrets – and stop ringing her sleigh bells when he’s dreaming. Or at least mute them just a mite.