Cancer, in esoteric astrology, represents something far deeper than the nurturing qualities we often associate with it. Governed by the Moon and Neptune, Cancer’s essence is about spiritual care, the sacred act of holding space for the growth of another soul. It’s not just about tending to physical needs—it’s about creating a safe haven for emotional and spiritual evolution. This care extends beyond gender, beyond roles, to anyone who steps into the space of a caregiver, who takes on the responsibility of loving and nurturing someone through life’s challenges.

There’s a quiet power in this role. Mary, the mother of Christ, stood by with unconditional love as her son faced his painful path. Caregivers often find themselves watching a journey they can’t control. (Side note: When I speak of any figure, I’m referring solely to their humanity.) They love, they support, and they trust. It’s not about protecting from all harm, but about walking alongside, providing strength in the face of hardship. It’s the kind of love that doesn’t need recognition—it just is, steady and constant, a force that grounds those in its care.

Caregivers, especially those of neurodivergent or disabled loved ones, understand this on a soul-deep level. They’re often the ones who feel the unspoken needs, who anticipate the unexpressed emotions. But it’s not just about intuition. It’s about resilience, too. While Cancer brings the nurturing energy, its opposite, Capricorn, offers the structure, the ability to step back and trust in the other person’s strength. Caregiving isn’t about shielding someone from the world—it’s about trusting that they have what it takes to face it. If you like me are a fan of the Lord of The Rings story, Samwise Gamgee’s quiet support of Frodo comes to mind here: he didn’t carry the burden for him, but he was always there, offering loyalty, love, and a steady presence.

There’s a reason so many caregivers say the role has changed them. It’s not just about the person they care for; caregiving reveals parts of themselves they hadn’t seen before. It can bring up old wounds, unhealed trauma, emotions buried deep. This isn’t something to shy away from—it’s part of the sacred work. Caring for another often shines a light on areas within us that need healing, too. And while that process can be painful, it’s also profoundly beautiful. The act of caregiving becomes a mirror, reflecting not just the needs of the loved one, but the inner work that the caregiver is being called to do.

As a Buddhist and esotericist, I believe that we choose our families—whether as children or as caregivers—before we come into this life. There’s something comforting in that idea, especially on the hard days. The bond between you and your loved one is more than chance; it’s a sacred agreement, chosen for the growth of both souls involved. When you view caregiving from this perspective, it takes on a deeper meaning. You’re not just helping someone through life—you’re fulfilling a spiritual contract, one that helps both of you grow in ways that you may not yet fully understand.

I know there are days when this role feels overwhelming, when the weight of it seems too much. There are moments of exhaustion, frustration, and doubt. But like Cancer’s connection to the Moon, caregiving moves in cycles. The hard days come, but so do the moments of grace—the quiet victories, the small connections that remind you why you’re here. Those are the moments where you see the beauty in it all, where you realize that the love you give, the time you spend, is more than enough. It’s sacred.

And this love, isn’t just for the one you care for—it’s for you, too. Caregiving teaches self-compassion in ways you may not expect. You learn that you can’t give fully if you’re running on empty. It’s okay, even necessary, to step back and take time for yourself. When you care for yourself, you’re strengthening the bond. It’s an act of love, not just for you, but for the one you care for. Self-compassion allows you to keep showing up, not just as a caregiver, but as someone who recognizes their own worth, their own need for care.

In the end, caregiving is a beautiful exchange of love. It’s about giving, yes, but it’s also about receiving—lessons, growth, and moments of grace that change both souls involved. Trust in the process, trust in the love you give, and trust in the idea that this role is sacred, chosen, and deeply transformative for both you and your loved one.