The moon will be full this Thursday, February 21st. There are no children in our home (by choice, I might add), and so I gather "the sleeping infant of (my)self" to go out into the dark night and drink in the inky beauty of white rock in a sea of blackness. My sun sign is Cancer whose planet is the moon. I have always felt an affinity for the moon and her phases and rhythms, appreciating the profound wisdom of her gentle waxing and waning as a mirror of the movement of the seasons from flowering to death and back to blossoming again. I wish in my urban life I could see the moon more clearly, more often, except that I live in a city whose trademark is cloud cover.
So when we have weeks with clear skies like last month, where the full moon begs to be witnessed and invites my wide-eyed wonder, I make the effort to see between buildings and lamposts. I pause and breathe in the beauty of fullness and radiance. When I am at the hermitage on a full moon night, I can see the mountain snow at midnight as a luminous pale glow on the horizon. I celebrate the gifts of light reflected to the world, just as I honor the gifts of the new moon, who retreats into the shadows to renew as we all must do at times.
My life these days feels very much in a full moon phase. Opportunities and new ideas seem to abound flowing easily from me and I am grateful, knowing that it is only possible because I have allowed myself also the space for rest and being. Even in the midst of full moon activity, I heed the invitations to moments of stillness for reflection and regathering.
Are you in a full moon phase or a new moon phase? Are you waxing or waning? Can you honor whatever place you find yourself, knowing that you will slowly move around the cycle?
-Christine Valters Paintner @ Abbey of the Arts
(photos taken in a Seattle winter night sky)