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Friday, April 1, 2016

void-of-course (moon lessons)

~At the edge of my awareness, I am alert to all that is around me. Eagle has made a home here and every day I hope to catch a glimpse of his wide wings embracing the sky. 

~Running in the park, I come upon a herd of deer. I quickly pause as they pause. We regard each other ... "Hello sisters" I like to say. One seems to nod before bounding off to join the others. I linger, watching for her to take a final glance back at me. Yes, I am here, just as you are.



~Rainy weather means I will find my favorite "Old Man" horse inside at the stables. At 28 he is the senior of the herd. I stand by his stall, one hand on his shoulder, the other held palm facing up towards his muzzle. I send him reiki but really he sends it to me. I watch his eyes soften, his breath deepen, feeling the warmth on my hand, feeling his dreams wash through my body. Green pastures, sunshine, rolling with ease and freedom. I feel him slowly ceding his memories with grace and celebration. It is a gift, this time with him. I quietly sing to him "Old man take a look at my life, I'm a lot like you were ..."

~We head out on a Friday afternoon driving west, arriving in time to watch the Sandhill cranes returning to roost overnight at the Platte River. Every Spring they spend a month here fattening up for the journey northwards, heading to Canada, Alaska and even Siberia. Under the cover of a rapidly descending darkness they fly in. We can barely see them, but we can HEAR them. 





These are the many threads jumbled together in my heart and in my life. I am on a bit of a wild, internal ride - remember Mr. Toad and Wind in the Willows?

Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing ...  

Through a route too difficult to fully explain here (it requires a full pot of tea, an afternoon outside of time and a comfortable seat to relax into) I have been examining and considering my own rhythms and cycles through study of the Moon's. Cultivating a Moon Practice has been a source of immense insight, grounding, and inspiration for me. What has bubbled up as a result of charting my days and studying the energies involved in La Luna's monthly travels is a deeper understanding of my own relationship to these rhythms and energies. What hit me today was understanding how the moon moves through transitions - something I do not manage gracefully or with much ease. That I am wobbling through IMMENSE transitions had not really sunk in until I had it reflected back to me through La Luna's example.

Menopause, the death of my mother, my daughter's transition into puberty - hello?! Transition overload!  Making this all the more intense has been my own impatience with myself. Why can't I figure out what it is I want to be doing with myself? Why can't I settle upon one course of action? Why am I so distractible? How is it months go by and I cannot account for myself, my actions? I realize I am judging my life through the lens of a mindset that is useful when the energy of the season supports growth and development. But in the flux of transition - the letting go in order to open to receive - this kind of thinking (productivity, accountability, results, action) only makes matters more intense given the vulnerability inherent in change or transformation. 

Our culture is seriously lacking when it comes to celebrating change and transitions. And especially so when it comes to women's lives.  To talk about menopause publicly elicits uncomfortable laughter and a quick changing of the subject. I am grateful to the woman I met years ago who shared with me her experience of "hot flashes" as power surges. She described what felt like an umbilical cord of vibrant, alive energy reconnecting her to the Universe. The intensity of the internal heat an indicator of energy awakening her to a new potential in her life. 

Give me a dose of that please. 



The period of time when the moon is void-of-course is when she is shifting from the energies of one planet to another. There is - as this site shares - "a pause in the end of the story." How do I manage endings? I tend to linger, to hold on. As much as I love new beginnings, shifting gears is not a fluid habit for me. I am learning. But it requires mindfulness, patience and care. As I release what was - my life as a daughter, as a in-theory-fertile woman and mother - I am rewiring myself to my world. Creating and laying down new relationships and understanding myself as a daughter of earth and moon. Previously my understanding could be labeled as "solar" - me at the center of my life. But now it is understanding the whole within me and my place within the Whole. Relationship, partnership, community ... it is a lot to digest and I need to allow it - and myself - all the space and time it needs. 

 

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