The sky is full of wisdom today. This lunar eclipse during a
full moon will turn the milky white face of the moon blood red. And that’s not
the only thing going on. To learn more about the astrology of this time, read Jennifer
Racioppi’s blog.
With many planets going retrograde along with the eclipse,
Nature is reminding us of the importance of looking back in order to move
forward. It’s a message that has been with me lately. I recently wrote about
being told by a Mourning Dove it was time to move forward. You can read it here.
This eclipse cycle that is ending is a 19 year one. Nineteen
years ago I moved to Southern California from Nova Scotia. I completely
uprooted my life. The beginnings of that change started showing up in 1998 with
a crow flying behind me and brushing my hair with its wing. One relationship
was ending and another just about to begin.
I pulled out my journal to ruminate over these past 19 years.
There have been many insights and much growth. The new relationship has brought
me closer and closer to the past in order for it to be healed. What I really
learned was that I brought the past with me. I didn’t leave it behind in Nova
Scotia. It wasn’t time to let it go yet. I needed to carry it nearly 4000 miles
so I could wait for it to fully surface with the help of this new relationship.
And boy, has it risen. It has made things difficult at times, but I’ve learned
a lot.
Nature here in California has been a part of my healing over
the past 19 years as well. The Giant Sequoias taught me that in the present the
past is ever with us. As much as I want to uproot it fully, I can’t. What I can
do is remove the stunted growth to allow new growth, new life to prosper. It’s
perfect that today, the stump removal team came and removed the stump out
front. The stump had grown branches, but it was never going to be a tall,
strong tree again. Now something new can be planted.
The desert has also taught me something. I learned that even
when it seems as though there is no life, if you look close, you’ll find an
abundance of it. Even in our most distraught days, there is still life within
us. It also taught me years of drought doesn’t mean death. It will rain again,
and when it does, a field of flowers will bloom as far as the eye can see. Our
driest time creatively doesn’t mean the end of our ability to create. We just
need patience and perhaps the juice of life for ideas to bloom.
And there have been many more moments when Nature led me to
a greater understanding. It has helped me carry the past to this point as has
my relationship. But now, it’s time to let the pain of the past go. It can only
stunt my growth.
Again, I stand on the precipice of change. The distant shore
is still hard to see, but I’m beginning to make out some shapes. I light a
candle under the Blood Moon and gently lay it on a tiny boat. I recall all I
wish to release and launch the boat, let it drift out to sea. I bless all I
have learned as I watch it disappear.
I turn to the shore in the distance. It is 19 years away. I
step into the boat built by the last 19 years and set sail in a new direction.
I don’t quite know yet what it will look like when I land. It’s a long ways
away. But I will let the vision that is beginning to rise guide me each day,
each week, each month, each year. I know my experiences along the way will
shape the vessel and the vision, and this will bring me to exactly where I need
to be.
