It's a mystical time when perceptual curtains in my psyche are drawn back and I can see, finally, what's been hidden in the shadows of my consciousness. Insights and epiphanies that have eluded me may reveal themselves when the moon slips into nothingness.
During moon dark, I see more clearly.
Astrologers call it the balsamic phase -- an inward, mysterious time. The moon goes dark, creative energy ebbs. I'm poised between cycles, waiting for the slender crescent to appear among the springtime stars.
This week, while the moon has been hidden in shadows, my own shadowy, unconscious dynamics became very clear.
I wrote some morning pages a few days ago. This is a practice recommended by Julia Cameron in The Artist's Way -- writing three long-hand pages every morning to get rid of the mental clutter that's in the way of my creativity. It's a private exercise. No one sees my pages.
I haven't done them in a long time. But during this quarantine confinement I felt tension building, so I sat at my laptop. What poured forth was like a giant, unflattering mirror dragged out of the back of the closet and propped up where I couldn't avoid my own reflection.
Maybe the virus has done this for you too?
It's as if life is a desk, piled up with things to do. This and that to attend to. Life flowing by.
And then the virus sweeps it all away.
Leaving open space.
My friend Deb, with unexpected time on her hands, is cleaning and organizing. Yesterday she said, When I'm done with this all I'll be left with is my thoughts.
Exactly.
Writing those pages -- it was as if my consciousness was fed up with waiting to be heard and it didn't mince words.
I'll spare you the content of my pages, but I have shared them with friends. This is a big deal for me, letting peeps I trust see me exactly where am.
When I don't have my sh*t together.
Lo and behold, they relate. They give comfort and good advice.
Today's new moon marks the beginning of a new cycle of creation. I enjoy planting seeds of intention in the freshly tilled soil of my fertile psychic space. Anything can happen!
In the next few days I'll experience that subtle shift from shadow toward light, as germinating seeds strive for the sun. I think of that rich inner dark space as a deep well of potential.
Giving myself space to get clear -- by reviving the morning pages -- turned out to be a gift. It woke me up to patterns of resistance that I've gotten used to, rationalized, and then felt crappy about.
And in response, so much wisdom came my way in the guise of friends who are, respectively, a life coach, a therapist, and a shamanic practitioner. They say: Let yourself be, for God's sake. Soak in Epsom salts. Put CBD oil under your tongue. Try giving up dairy. Or maybe stop judging your physical pain as bad.
This ascension we're in the midst of? It's taking a toll on me physically but I don't have to assume it means I'm doing anything wrong.
Enter Uranus, the Great Awakener, whose cosmic agenda is to pierce through levels of unconsciousness and resistance! *
Astrologer Elizabeth Jones suggests that the most important question isn't related to ... what we've let go of but rather about what we are letting in (to our awareness).
This is huge...this sudden change, very likely a cosmic prompting from Uranus, has opened a window of opportunity to co-create with the Universe something extraordinary.
Something perhaps you've only dreamed or hoped for.
Something that requires time you didn't have before
and space to breathe
and a new set of priorities
and, perhaps most important, a fresh perspective of what might now be possible in your life.*
This new moon in Taurus, courtesy of Uranus (who moved into the constellation of Taurus in May 2018 and will hang out there for another seven years) has the potential to shatter outdated, no-longer-true-for-me, inherited beliefs.
In case you haven't noticed, this is happening in the collective consciousness as well. (Understatement.)
This would explain my meditation yesterday.
I came upon a doorway, set in a forest. Sunlight was streaming through delicately budding branches. Petals of early blossoms drifted like snowflakes to the ground. The double-door came to an arched point. The left door was closed but bright yellow light beamed out of the right open door. Inside, it was blindingly light. I sensed myself on a cool healing slab of rose quartz.
It was a classic shamanic experience of instantaneous combustion. I heard the phrase, Burn it all down. I knew what this meant for me.
Uranus rules lightening, which is...how its energies work, often in an unexpected flash!*
How I come back to life, how I am re-animated by my own spirit...
Its up to me.
Collectively, it's up to us.
*Elizabeth Jones, Monthly Beacon: Astro, 4.19.2020, p.2
