full flower moon
I am stardust living beneath a dome of stars.
I watch the movement of the sun and the moon and see patterns in the sky, rolling, turning, speaking.
I remember that everything is energy; the Holy Spirit moves through everything.
There is only oneness.
The full flower moon and a lunar eclipse is here. A super moon. The blood moon.
This a time of illumination.
I must be mindful. When I hear that it’s eclipse season, my mind goes eclipse, eclipse, clip, clip, clip. I wonder what the big cosmic scissors will cut out of my life?
I remind myself, that’s not necessarily how it happens.
Eclipses don’t mean something bad is going to happen.
They point to an important place on the map.
This full moon eclipse indicates a time of great change.
So I ask myself…
What’s wrapping up?
What’s completed its job?
What’s worn thin?
What in my life, in my psyche, in my home, in my heart has simply reached the end of a cycle?
What in my life is no longer serving love?
It can feel sometimes like change is forced upon me, as if I’m at the mercy of some capricious hand, but when I allow myself to be fully conscious, I see that I can be present in change and pivot with it.
I can accept all doors - those opening and those closing - as gifts from God.
When I allow myself to be fully aware, I can see the possible roads unfolding in front of me and I can choose.
So I ask…
What’s calling to me?
Which path forward will I take?
What supports me?
Where is love?
Surely a moon named for the flowers that bloom in May can assist with the blooming of the self.
How beautiful to think of myself as a flower with petals folding inward and outward and inward and outward in a slow spiral dance.
In times such as these, everything is exaggerated. Emotions run high. But I can bring my awareness to that. Nothing needs knock me off course if I know who I am and in whose arms I am held.
I think about how I wish to greet the unexpected when it shows up at my doorstep.
I think about the person I wish to be and how I can be more of her now.
I want to be someone who brings a gentle touch. A vessel for that which heals. A lover.
As the vastness of the world opens around me, I vow to control what I am able to control and surrender the rest.
I see myself placing boats in water, boats filled with flowers, boats of woven willow. The water carries them away.
I will trust my desires and my creativity because how I create is how I cultivate.
I get to celebrate my happiness even if my happiness doesn’t look like anyone else’s, and when I listen to my soul, I move forward toward that which is meant for me.
I check in with my dreams, to make sure they are still what I’m dreaming.
It’s God who dreams me into the field, her skirts like a glittering wing. She dreams me as a flower with petals folding in then reaching out; I go inward then unfurl.
I wish to be a person of compassion, but also true person. I will not shrink myself or dull my edges.
Surely allowing what is toxic to fall away is a start.
Being the scenes, I’ve been dismantling cages. If things are falling a part, then how does that destruction make me free?
I ask…
Where do I stop my energy from flowing in honesty?
I unclip little vampires from my energy, unhook their sharp little teeth from my skin. I pet the baby demons, tsk, tsk, tsk, all is well.
When I dance, I dance in the inner chambers of my heart. There it is rich brocade, pink satins, rippling silk. I drink from a heavy silver goblet, an herbal champagne the color of violets.
I ask my heart…
Beloved, what do you long for?
Where do you want to go?
I celebrate what I have and dance in the beauty of what is and as I do, what I long for draws closer to me.
I caress what’s sacred, what’s important to me and in so doing, call the abundant riches of what I love into my life.
I’m an explorer, a seeker, a sower.
What have I been building that’s ready to be seen in the light?
This moon brings balance. I find it in exploration and acceptance and untethered joy.
Where do I see love coming toward me?
What greater understanding to I hold in my hand?
I remind myself that as I run my fingers across the ridges of discomfort and discover the places where I do not feel loved, it is not necessarily true that I am not loved in these places.
Sometimes I am the one putting up barriers, and the only one who can take them down.
I think of the stories I tell myself about myself. I think of what I tell the world.
Which story has grown stale, uninteresting?
Which story is a heavy yoke around my neck?
What am I willing to cast out?
What am I tired of telling?
There are towers that need to fall and I welcome the toppling of that which is not love.
Whatever is a barrier to love, I let it slip away.