Mourning Moon @ New Year

It has been a long year. It has been a long year and one that’s gone by way too quick.
Always, right?

This time last year I’d just started waiting tables at a white linen in town and was devoting most of my days to writing. I was finishing/editing my first collection of poetry and sending it off to different contests for unpublished poets.

And the conference for young people recovering from substance abuse—that was just getting underway, too.

A long, long year.

Last night’s full moon was a doozy, no? Emotional, a tugging, with some sorrows sprung deep. This is normal, as it should have been—and if you are reading this and nodding your head or having an aha moment: stop denying and understand your tribe…!

Us artists and soul-learners, us instinct-led craving a deeper experience of life, we dip and rise together, and I have found at least for myself that the old moons and earth holidays that folklore kept are good to grow and to learn better my own deep tune…

Yesterday was Lunar New Year, to that affect. Mourning Moon. Agricultural societies of old new it well: the final crops are down, time to take full count of your lot. And in that, inside of that knowledge of assessing your harvest, comes too the sight of that which you lost. Or maybe has yet to come to fruit at all. It is now that the seeds for next years bounty most especially stir there quiet just below in your soul. Same as the seeds for the spring now are planted, this last week or so gives you peek at what in the coming year you would like to grow. Look well, be kind and easy on your soul in whatever language it uses to communicate this to you. For soon the seeds too will slumber, take their rest and gather strength in the landscape of the underground. And it could be long, and dark that sleep, maybe disorienting or scary.

But so too will the spring, the roots, the new blossoms come again—

Now is the time for quiet and thanks-giving…