Full Moon Manifestation - April 2008

This is my manifestation collage for the full moon, created as part of Sacred Suzie's challenge, and uploaded rather late due to technology problems. Since my needs right now are more oriented towards inner change than outer, my images are a bit less representational and more abstract than others.... but that is ok. I am asking for the ability to maintain and attitude of joy, passion, curiosity, and fun.

Growth, fear, and the new moon

I don't think I have ever felt less spiritual than I do right now. After a really rough week, I went to the New Moon ritual Friday night. I expected that it would recharge my empty spirit, but I was very wrong. The main part of the monthly ritual is divination. Through the runes, I was told that I must find the strength to guide my path towards my spirit's home.... and it was just too much for me to bear. I don't know why. That should be a cheering thought. But instead I feel like I've been handed a work sentence with no end in sight. Why? Is it because it is terribly difficult to find that kind of strength? Is it because I want nothing more than to be able to sit back and rest in the arms of the mother for a while longer? But spring is the time of growth.... and growth is work. Growth is risk and vulnerability and pain. Growth is responsibility. And it would seem that growth is what I am most afraid of right now.

I want an instruction manual. I want to know that I'm doing the right thing, making the right choices. I want to be guaranteed success. But that's not growth, is it? That's the opposite of growth, in fact. And that isn't what I need. It may be what I want.... but it's not what I need. So it's not what I'm going to get.

What's the Anais Nin quote? "And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. " I suppose I had best get used to that thought, as it is to be my new mantra.

Nothing for it but to take a deep breath.....
and dive.

Ostara 2008

I hope everyone had a joyful spring equinox! I had a nice quiet ritual -- the most traditional ritual I've ever done for this holiday, actually, complete with natural dyed eggs and seed blessing. I rather enjoyed the fact that it came so close to Easter this year, as well, since it meant that I enjoyed Easter dinner rather more than is usual for me. Perhaps that is why I indulged in the egg dying, too.

And the seasons are almost cooperating -- while the weather on the actual day of the equinox was cold, cloudy, and generally uninspiring, things have been looking up since then, and I even saw my first crocus' of the season today! I have faith that spring proper is on its way. For once, I'm outraged at the climatic inability to deliver spring on schedule. It's a pleasant change, really.

(There are pictures of the eggs, but my new camera is not playing nicely with my computer yet, so those will have to wait until later.)

Cycle interruptus

Life is not a simple cycle; neither is the year. Summer interrupts autumn, autumn reclaims some of what is rightfully winter -- so it goes, no stage content to stay in its rightful place.

But how it hurts, when a warm day appears, you think is spring. You reach out, uncoiling from your closed bud, reaching out towards the possibilities before you, the sap within your veins responding to the fresh sunlight.

And then its gone. You bolted too soon, and now the cold has returned, forcing you back into your hard casing, severing yourself from yourself. Painfully, you draw yourself back together, return to wholeness. You wait in the dark, nursing your hurt in bitterness.

But the sun comes back (it always does), and you stretch out again. However many time it takes, you will reach towards that light, knowing that someday, it will last.

Creating sacred space in my apartment

Ever since I first read The Circle Within, I've wanted to consecrate my entire apartment as sacred space. I was especially drawn to the idea of using permanent elemental markers, probably because I loved the challenge of finding/creating them. Well, slightly over a year later, I've finally done it! It took me that long to find the perfect markers. I will be keeping them as I move from place to place over the years, as a way to maintain continuity (her idea was to switch them for a fresh start in each home).

I will be curious to see how inhabiting sacred space changes how I feel about my daily routine, and my living space in general. Washing the dishes isn't a chore; it's cleaning my temple. The half-finished projects scattered everywhere aren't clutter; they are sacred creativity.

I took pictures of the markers themselves, since I'm rather fond of them. Earth is a grass basket (woven by the Tohono O'odham) filled with some of my favorite stones. Air is probably my favorite, because I made it myself. It was only my second attempt at collage, and I am very proud of how well it turned out. Fire was the first marker that I purchased, over a year ago. I know that the stone in the middle ought to make it more "earthy," but to me it is evocative of the raw volcanic power of fire. And water uses a stained glass bowl that I've had for years, certain that it was destined for some purpose, with rocks from the Cape Cod beach where I took my honeymoon.

I've read books, stories, essays in which someone's life seems to occur in time with the changing seasons. In fiction, I've always seen it as a variant of the pathetic fallacy; in non-fiction, as either grandiose imagining, or else massaging the truth for a better story.

I guess I'll have to rethink that attitude, because it's happening to me.

With the coming of autumn, I sank down into a dark night of the soul, found myself knee deep in the Underworld with no choice but to trudge onward. And I trudged on through the winter. I slogged through the quagmire of self-doubt, the murky depths of pain, until I found myself staring at my own raw fears -- that I am destined to be disappointed, miserable, constrained, trapped, and yoked blindly to a path I would never willingly chose. (Also, drowned in melodramatic metaphors and grandiose phrases, but that comes with the territory).

But things are changing. Lessons that have been repeated since fall -- that I need to let go my fears and embrace the passionate exuberance of life -- are finally sinking in. Revelations and discoveries and fortuitous books* are all spiraling together to call me to myself. And something is in the air. A new smell, a fresh breeze, a lightening of life that I can feel with every breath. That surge of potential beneath my feet, struggling to come out. I can feel it everywhere. After nearly suffocating in the darkness, even this small light is freeing. I can feel the pulse of rebirth echoing my own, and I can't stop smiling!

*Refuse to Choose! A revolutionary Program for Doing Everything That You Love, by Barbara Sher, thanks to Magical Musings for mentioning it a few weeks ago!

* * * * *

This season always reminds me of the following poem, and it ties in with how I'm feeling today -- that the world is full of a million different things that I can dive into, that my life is full of potential - so I thought I would include it. My apologies if the spacing gets messed up.

In Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman

whistles far and wee

and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful
the queer
old balloonman whistles
far far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's
spring
and
the

goat-footed

balloonMan whistles
far
and
wee

-e.e. cummings

Boynton Canyon Vortex

When planning for my Arizona vacation, I was particularly drawn to the town of Sedona, an apparent New Age mecca famous for its energy vortexes. It sounded pretty commercial, which is a bit off-putting, but I figured it would be fun anyway, and I planned to spend 2 nights there.

I regretted this choice within minutes of arriving in the town, as the commerical aspects outweighed any spiritual pursuits to a frightening degree. I won't bore you with the details, but let's just say that we spent as little time as possible in the town itself. Luckily for us, this wasn't difficult -- my husband and I are both convinced that this must be the most beautiful part of Arizona. The red rock formations that surround the town are absolutely breathtaking, and we were perfectly happy to spend our time exploring them.

Still, I wanted to experience a vortex for myself. I no longer had any interest in going on a vortex tour, so I did a bit of research in my guidebook, and found one that I could incorporate into a hike. Thus, we departed for the Boynton Canyon vortex.

After a truly wonderful hike, and the smallest bit of confusion, I climbed up to the vortex, which is marked by the tiny piles of stones in this picture. There are more surrounding the spire of rock on all of the accessible sides. There weren't very many other people there, so I was able to meditate and try to connect to the energy of the vortex. I definitely felt some sort of energy, a tingling that started in my hands and feet, and then spread to my whole body. I sensed energy spiraling around me, and felt as if my body was turning in the opposite direction.... very strange. And at one point I swear I saw a turtle swim towards me and wink (in my mind's eye, not physically!). I'm not sure what any of that meant, but it was certainly interesting, and something which I will be revisiting in future meditation and spiritual journeying.

Lunar Eclipse 2008

I know I haven't written about my trip yet (and there will be at least one picture, I promise!), but I want to get to the eclipse before everyone forgets that it ever happened.

I'd never seen a full lunar eclipse before, so I had no idea what to expect, either spiritually or visually. As it turns out, the energy of this eclipse was just what I needed to reinforce some changes that I've been needing to make. I've known for some time now that too much of my life is lived out of fear. I was constrained by it on all sides, and it kept me locked in a tiny box, where I was miserable and frustrated. I hated it. It's not that I was afraid of any particular fate -- I was just afraid to live. Afraid that if I stopped being afraid, I'd be ambushed by... something.

That's no way to live, and I used last night's energy to put it behind me (though I did originally type that paragraph in the present tense -- I'm still learning!). During the ritual/spellwork that I performed before my trip, I realized that I need to reach out towards that which I love, and I am reaffirming that now. I have to ask myself in every situation "What would love have me do?," by which I mean "Where does my heart point? Where would my bliss lead me?" It's a difficult transition, but I want to be committed this time. Gods help me, but I need to do this.

* * * * *

My ritual was very simple, requiring only my cauldron, a match, paper, and pencils (if you've been a practicing pagan for more than six months, you can probably guess where this is going). I sat on my enclosed front porch and gazed up at the sky as the moon slowly shrank away, and I contemplated the earth standing between sun and moon, blocking the light's radiance from illuminating that silvery orb. I descended into a light trance, and met with the figure of the earth, who spoke to me in an Irish accent. She told me that she was darkening the moon to allow us to gaze upon her more fully, and that I was cast off that which was blocking me from fully dancing with life. I saw that my fear was the problem, and came out of the trance enough to write that down on the paper, with heavy intent. I lit the cauldron, and threw my fear into it. I felt so light and free, watching it burn away! I created a talisman to enforce the changes I need to bring into my life - the way I need to throw myself into that which I love, and let it infuse me.


* * * * *

Oh, and visually? The moon was beautiful. Watching as the light shrank to a tiny slivery, illuminating a perfect sphere of smokey quartz, fading to rose.... it was a powerful experience, one which I hope not to forget any time soon.

I have returned

I got back from Arizona Friday night. It was wonderful, a truly delightful experience. I don't think I actually feel any clearer about my life now than I did when I left, but that might be because I always have trouble readjusting after a vacation, and I am not looking forward to returning to work tomorrow. Plus, I haven't managed to do *anything* at my altar since getting home.

If I'm lucky, I'll manage to distill some of my observations and realization from the trip into coherent posts at some point.

Imbolc Poetry Reading 2008

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, wen woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

-William Henry Davies, Leisure

Posted in honor of the Imbolc Poetry Reading 2008. It seems appropriate to my life right now. :-)

Bless Imbolc!