Gurbet (Homesickness)

Last Thursday, July 12, was a new moon eclipse in Cancer, sign of nurturing and home comforts on the upside, defensive protection and contraction on the low side. The Moon is ruled by Cancer, and the Moon changes its "mood" more than any other planet, via its phases and closeness to Earth. Connectedness to deep feelings on the one hand, overblown reactivity to them on the other. It can be hard to remember "this too shall pass," especially if something feels horrible. 

Last week my husband and I were on Cape Cod driving to an early morning whale watch, breeze blowing through the windows past the bluffs and sand, and we turned up "Gurbet" by Ozdemir Erdogan, loud. The original lyrics are in Turkish, but the meaning in translation felt particularly poignant as well:

To whom should I tell my sorrow, clouds?
People who we regard as brothers hurt us deeply
And what’s more there is homesickness which hurts the most
Tell me is there news from the homeland
Or are these rains tears of my love?

I am burnt inside
My wound is so deep
Give me the news from my love, please

Clouds, say hello to my love
Say that the day of union is very close
If fate make us separate
What can I do abroad all alone
Tell me whether living far away from love is possible.

I am burnt inside
My wound is so deep
Give me the news from my love, please
— Ozdemir Erdogan, "Gurbet"

The Cancer (homeland) eclipse was in the 5th house of children and creativity, opposite Pluto in Capricorn. We have been waiting for my husband's green card and we wanted to visit his family in Turkey this summer, but have to keep waiting, as there's no guarantee the government would let him back into the US if we left without the green card. Also, this summer I barely see my daughter in July, so I feel fragile with her absence. And all of the family separations enforced by the US government at the borders of this country are a harsh example of the cruelty and coldness in power that Pluto in Capricorn opposite a sensitive Cancer moon can represent.

The first whale we encountered out at sea was known as "Diablo"; she was a 36-year-old female who had given birth to 8 children, and migrated with each one of them the summer after they were born from the Caribbean to Massachusetts. I was touched by Diablo not only for sharing a view of her amazing, strong tail as she pushed down to eat, but because that morning I had chosen the "Devil" tarot card as my subconsious feeling card. It pointed out how essential the need is to access deep sea feelings, even when uncomfortable, because they bring out creativity through our "blow hole" (breathing). And how we don't really have/can't just have one external home. It has to be internal/via connectedness.