Whether you did a working on the last new moon or not, I invite you to look back.
Not to berate or congratulate, but rather to see what you can see now. What you might have done differently, knowing what you know now.
Maybe you have a post-it note with a message or intention that made so much sense weeks ago. Maybe you looked up at the sliver or into the darkness. Maybe you just went to bed early because the energy was perfect for rest.
Maybe you remembered a few days later.
It’s all okay. The moon will continue to arrive, continue to shift, continue to wax and wane.
A message for you, no matter how you show up.
Under the Changing Moon
Recently, I placed myself on a new, personal journey. A journey that will show me and shape me, as all journeys do. I walk forward with expectations in one hand and a loose grip on surrender in the other.
I too arrive, as I do.
In looking back over other journeys I have traveled, I recognize and realize how I did and did not show up as I would have liked. And knowing who I am now (and only now), I realize there are lessons I want to reveal to the new moon.
I come to every situation with baggage. I come to experience with what I think I already know and what the past has taught me could happen. Emphasis on the ‘could.’ I really don’t know.
I had a teacher once tell me to leave all that I knew behind. While it was important, she wanted me to do things the way she taught them. To see how they felt as they were taught. As they were passed down to her.
I could not forget what I knew. But I let it sit outside the door. I asked if it would wait for me. If it would be willing to step to the side so I could open a bit wider.
In time, it would all know how to share space.
Tracking the Ordinary Extraordinary
In just the last 24 hours, I’ve already seen signs that the magick is arriving. It might be that I’m expecting it. Or it might be that it has been expecting me.
I’m keeping track of it. The signs. The dreams. The way the light falls differently and and my heart’s beat is a little deeper.
Write it down. Take a picture. Tell a tree.
Know the wonder of the ordinary extraordinary moments.
Keeping it Close
I’m the type of being who likes to share what I’m experiencing. I want to tell you what I’m encountering and what I’m starting. But this time, my lips are delighted in resting.
Holding this piece close is a prayer of surrender. I am holding me in this one. I am turning to the godds. To the ones who have been waiting.
All this time.
The altars are going to shift to make room for devotion. To make room for a place where I will be and know and learn and hear.
Where I will drink in all that I seek to transform. Where I will follow the energy and say the things I have memorized and forgotten. Where I will begin and end the day.
Where was I on this day last year? The year before? What was the season? Have I been there before? What does this have to teach me? I will look to the past, though I will not stare.
The patterns might emerge and I will watch. I will admit and confess to myself. I will forgive and honor and bless this growing heart.
There is space this time for letting things be still and not glorious and big, while still inviting the possibility that I will be surprised.
If only I give it all enough room to breathe into me.
Look to the Past, But Don’t Stare
This new moon feels like a time of glancing back. Where have I been? Where am I going? What can I do differently? If I made it through that, what can I bring forward? What can I place in my pocket, now knowing how to use that wisdom?
Perhaps it will look like writing down a promise to myself that I will remember the lessons of what has come before. I will know what to do when I need to do it.
And when I am not sure…I will stop. I will widen my senses, stretch them out to the corners of my days — and wait until I know what’s next.
It will be there.
And I am here to meet it.