When the famous artist Georgia O’Keeffe set out once and for all to live out West in the Northern New Mexican desert the impulse had something to do with belonging. When I got to New Mexico, she says that was mine. As soon as I saw it that was my country. I’d never seen anything like it before, but it fitted to me exactly. It’s something that’s in the air, it’s different. The sky is different, the wind is different. I shouldn’t say too much about it because other people may be interested and I don’t want them interested.
Today the new moon in Cancer speaks quietly yet directly about our definition of belonging and what it is that fits us exactly. What does belonging mean to you? What are you held by? Do you require a certain landscape, tree, desert, ocean or mountain to feel at home? Do you feel belonging with your friends or in the intimate center of the family you’ve created. Do you belong to a certain set of memories, those that you can return to over and over for comfort? Do you belong to a book, the one book that seems to tell your story like no other? What brings you comfort?
O’Keeffe went to New Mexico for the first time under the advice of infamous socialite Mable Dodge Luhan who had established an artist colony in Taos. For O'Keeffe who had spent many summers at Lake George in New York the New Mexican desert was a welcome contrast to all the dripping greenery. She found belonging in wide open spaces that offered nutritious austerity.
The poet David Whyte says, there is no house like the house of belonging.
On this Cancer new moon I ask you inquire about what you indeed belong to. And, in turn, what you do not belong to. Sometimes we hang on far too long in spaces where we did not inherently belong. It may surprise you how easily it is to let go when we view it from this perspective.