Why Everyone Needs a Cancerian Soul in their Life
It’s Cancer season and my Cancerian self feels drawn to remind you of the beauty of this water sign.
I want to be that someone people turn to between doing and being.
That person they seek to fill the gaps when they just want to laze quietly on a hammock and fill their thoughts with depth. That person they seek to revel in the mystery of the unknown. That pat-on-the-back friend who just gets it — and them.
As a Cancer, empath, and highly sensitive soul, I get it. My gift is filling in the gaps.
Give me a day with no agenda, and I will become the queen of each moment.
I never get bored. Puttering is my middle name. I love to be in solitude. I fact, I crave my alone time like an extrovert craves a wild party.
I may flip through a book, pick out some meaningful passages and revel in them. I may stare at the way the sun glows through the symphonic movement of the leaves in the trees — for an hour. I may gaze at the grass while lying on my belly on a blanket, noticing the delicate movement of the blades as the little bugs flit about. As I flip and gaze and stare, I feel nothing but sheer, child-like joy.
I will saunter among the trees, a big smile beaming across my face — soaking in their grandeur and my smallness in comparison.
Call to me, and I will come running, handing you a glass of cool mint-lemonade. I will rub your feet and tell you a funny tale about my latest quirky adventure to a thrift store where a newly-widowed grandmother of 12 told me her life story as I helped her carry her load of miscellaneous home-goods to the counter.
Invite me to dinner, and I will not only help you set the table but offer you an open ear and healing heart while we do it. I will carry away your woes along with the dirty dishes. I will scrub away your worries with my salve-like advice.
I am the one you can seek when you don’t know what to do with yourself.
I always know how to fill my moments. And even though I savor my alone time, I savor my time with you even more. I pretend like I don’t need others, but I fear being wounded, so I hide in my shell until you beckon me with “help!”
Help often works better than, “Come play,” because I like to feel needed. This feeling enhances my self-worth, so every so often, tell me that I am needed. And once I feel that I am wholeheartedly accepted by you, I will play harder than anyone has with you yet.
My laugh is the goofy, giggly one of a child. My cry is the deep wail of a wounded soul.
I know ups just as I know downs. I won’t judge you for yours — I judge myself enough for us both.
My love runs deep. I will never abandon you unless you hurt me by abandoning me first — or threaten to do so.
When I scurry into my shell, I do want to be alone — but not for as long as you think I do. Give me an hour and then knock on my hard surface. I want you to beckon me — to lull me gently out of my depths with your soft and sensual calls.
I need to be needed.
I thrive when I am asked to fill your in-between moments.
And if you’re my lover, then you know physical pleasure is something I crave and love to partake in. Earthly delights — be it good food or sex or beautiful surroundings — set me on fire.
So please, show me you need me.
Until then, I will chill with a good cookbook and plan an elaborate meal for 10 loved ones. I will plan and plan it until you invite me to cook for you. I will be too shy to organize it, so gather up some people, and tell me you’re coming over on Saturday. I will make it a meal and a night you will remember for a lifetime.
I am a Cancerian Soul and I am here to fill you up with goodness…if you let me.
So please, let me.
I won’t disappoint you.
Originally published on Elephant Journal as The Art of a Cancer’s Friendship.
Sarah shares her story to inspire the sometimes lost, wounded, and weary souls yearning to remember their authentic beauty. You can stay connected with Sarah via her website or if so inspired, buy her a cup of coffee.
If you liked this piece, you might also like: