New Moon in Cancer

🌑 New Moon in Cancer
Date: Wednesday, June 26, 2025
Time: 6:39 p.m. EDT
Degree: 4° Cancer 55'

The New Moon: Beginnings Beneath the Surface
Every New Moon is a pause. A breath inward. A cosmic reset. It marks the end of one lunar cycle and the very first whisper of the next. It’s not loud or showy—it’s fertile, receptive, full of potential.

Keywords: Renewal. Intention. Emptiness that nourishes. Quiet power. Inner alignment.

The Sign of Cancer: Home, Memory, and the Sacred Shell
Ruled by the Moon herself, Cancer is intuitive, emotional, and quietly fierce in its desire to nurture and protect. It governs the places we call home—our literal shelter, but also the metaphorical: our bodies, our past, our ancestral roots.

Keywords: Safety. Emotion. Belonging. Boundaries. Maternal instinct. Sacred softness.

This lunation is deeply resonant for those with personal Cancer placements—like you, Christine. Your Cancer Moon brings a special attunement to this moment. You’re not just writing about this energy, you’re living it.

Aspects + Cosmic Context
This New Moon forms a sextile to Mars in Virgo, offering a steady hand and a sharp eye. There’s energy here for tending, fixing, and refining—especially in the realms of home, health, and emotional habits. Mercury’s square to Chiron may stir old wounds, but it also opens the door to articulate them with compassion. And the recent Jupiter cazimi still echoes, reminding us that expansion begins with intention.

Putting It All Together
This is a lunation to reclaim softness as a strength. To tend to what is private and precious. To find courage not in noise, but in care. Whether that means fortifying your literal home or soothing the inner child, trust that the smallest acts of tenderness under this Moon ripple far.

Consider this your lunar permission slip to be fully, exquisitely human.

🌒 Moonwork: Self-Care Under the Cancer New Moon

This isn’t about bubble baths (unless it is). Self-care under this New Moon asks us to mother ourselves in the quiet, unwavering way we’ve always needed. Not as a performance. As a promise.

Take a moment with your journal—or just your heart—and ask:

• What is self-care? Strip it down. Define it without Instagram filters or wellness buzzwords. What actually nourishes you?

• What is self-care to me, right now? Has your definition shifted? Does it look like solitude, softness, structure… something else?

• What do I need to feel nurtured and supported? Not ideally. Actually. Today.

• How can I give that to myself—without waiting for permission?

Let it spill. Let it be messy and real. Let it be a love letter from you to yourself.