Tomorrow is the autumnal equinox, and Mabon, for the Wiccan. A day of giving thanks and celebrating the bounty of the year. A day for balance and shifting toward winter and 'rest.'

It wouldn't be a proper bounteous thanksgiving without thanks. I have had a blessed year, for all the change and discomfort. I am most thankful for:

* my kids- awesomeness with legs.
* my family and friends- I could not be who I am, and happy who I am, without you. You are the earth that keeps my feet on the ground AND the moon that keeps my eyes lifted upward.
* my job- I get paid to ask questions, learn, and manifest solutions to problems. Nothing better than that.
* the opportunities for growth I've been offered-- and the courage to be crazy enough to take them. For details, see bullets 1-3. :)

Gracias, and blessings for continued fruitfulness and a little rest this winter.

Tonight’s moon is the Buck moon, when the horns of the young male deer break through. Having very little connection to deer (my power animals eat deer, but that’s about as close as I come), I really couldn’t connect this moon to my life right now. I am female and have been an adult for a while- what do I care about the awkward teenage years of bucks?

The last card I pulled from my tarot deck last night was the Singer of Initiation, the spirit that brings us to the edge of a new phase in life and challenges us to prove we are ready to meet it. As I rolled this reading around, in relation to my current life situation, the buck began to make sense to me.

While I am not physically passing into an adolescent buck phase in my life, I am entering a new form and stage of motherhood that is completely different than anything it’s been for me before. Like the buck, I am not changing who I am, but who I am in relation to the world around me. My responsibilities are bigger, my role is changed, and my life will never be the same, nor as simple.

This new form of motherhood is significant- significantly difficult, significantly risky, and significantly challenging. It is worthy of initiation and test to begin. While I have not chosen this path lightly, the impact of not being ready to meet the challenge, of being held back in a previous form rather than embracing the strength of the new one, could damage or destroy everything I hold dear. These new horns, as I grow and display them, are the proof of my transition from old form to new.

May the goddess walk the sky beside you tonight, whatever your form and where ever your journey takes you. Brightest blessings!

I touched the beach again- the sand was like warm silk. A pilgrimage of sorts, to a cathedral of sun and moon. I worshiped- wholly and unabashedly in the sun, respectful and reserved in the waves. It was a holy place, a sacred place, and I gave myself completely to it- I allowed the dynamic of male and female power to fill me.

The waves would swell, crest with a kiss of the sun's glitter on the edge, and collapse in a froth- violent and overwhelmed- traveling to the shore propelled by the wave immediately following- the goddess in ecstasy, each orgasm brought to further fruition by the next- BEAUTIFUL.

I was honored and awed to see it, though it was not for me. All of those in worship, knowingly or not, were mere voyeurs to a cosmic love affair between god and goddess.

Blessed be, and embrace the passion of Spring!

I believe that many of my cycles of change have converged on the last few weeks, and like my 25th birthday, so much of my birthday discomfort comes not from age but expectation. 5 years ago I mourned the milestones I always knew I’d achieve by then but had abandoned not 1 year before; this year, I realized I have ultimately re-embraced those values and shut down again- things are just easier to endure on auto-pilot.

But are we here to merely endure? Does that feed my spirit and continue me along my soul’s path? No. And in the last week I have come to terms with the fact that I once again strayed the course, once again traded my journey for the comfort of others, and ultimately betrayed what I have fought so hard for by handing it over to another.

30 is too young to give up on myself and too old to expect the change to magically come to me while I patiently wait. I own this- I am my own. And the burden for my chicken-shit numbing of life’s intensity I fought so hard to earn back rests solely on my shoulders. I gave it away- no one took it. No one even asked for it. I relegated myself, my exploration, and my needs beneath those of others because they were ‘other’ and therefore more worthy.

Fuck that. I am worth my time and love. I am worth knowing. I am worth the discomfort that comes with ever seeking deeper. I am worth the effort it takes to know me. I am worth the effort it takes to please me. I am worth the effort it takes to BE me.

I renew my quest for self; I seek the physical experiences we are here to explore. Without apology, shame, or retreat. I am going to refill my well and see just where I’ve drifted off to when I wasn’t looking. I am going to be- be bold- be strong- be whole- be happy. When necessary, I’ll be mad. I will do for myself. I will fill my well. I will reacquaint myself with my dreams and desires. I will fill my well. I will embrace my own beauty for me, unabashedly. I will fill my well. I will stand my ground, and see what comes of it. I will fill my well. I will reassess all the cups I fill first out of love or obligation. I will stand tall and fill MY cup, without excuse or permission, and see just how many people fall away because their jobs were returned to them and how many join me on this greater quest of self-expansion, inspired and respectful.

I am a child of the universe; I deserve to respect myself and must honor that greater connection. I will seek to know me, even when it is uncomfortable. ESPECIALLY when it is uncomfortable. I will find and fill my well, and at once see the true landscape around me. Come spring, I will know where exactly I need to point my leaves- and my roots. I will better know all parts of me, and in that expand through them. Blessed be!

Even Isis grieved; even the strength to defy death does not harden a woman’s heart.

History is full of strength, of men who charge into battle with swords high and emerge from the other side covered with their opponent’s blood, victorious, righteous, and unchanged. This is not the strength of a woman; a woman is not left untouched or calloused by the experiences she triumphs over. She is stronger, but by that she is soft, sensitive, in tune with those around her. This ‘weakness’ is the source of a woman’s strength, not it’s undoing.

A strong woman is not rigid; she is not an impenetrable wall, a fortified citadel for you to triumph within or compare yourself against. A woman’s strength is that of a tree, flexible when needed, mutable and regularly changed, but fixed enough to stand impervious while the fates of men are fought and decided. A woman’s strength is fluid, organic, and does not preclude her from pain. It is not her armor or her weapon- it is the quality of her heart.

Challenge or roughly handle a woman’s strength and you will be excluded from it. Value a woman’s strength on the scale used to measure men and she will meet your expectation, hardening her armor and sharpening her sword. But do not be fooled; she has not bought into your values or your war. When her heart tells her it’s time, she will sheath the sword and pull the armor from her delicate skin; she will stretch her roots and branches toward the water and light she needs, and leave you to your field.

Even Isis grieved; but Set never had his throne because of it. A woman’s strength, and will, is driven by her eternally perceptive heart.

I want:

• to know who I am when everything is said and done
• my own space
• to disagree with someone and be okay with it
• to stop censoring myself, especially in my own home
• to define myself outside traditional roles
• to be happy; to laugh
• to be part of something bigger
• to know I can succeed on my own
• to feel beautiful, inside and out
• the ability to just let go
• to inspire others
• to write things that mean something
• to be happy singing
• to not be "just" anything
• to keep doing things that scare me, and stop being afraid
• to just listen
• to be in the moment
• to keep the TV off
• to be thankful for what I have
• to know that I can't be everything to everyone- and accept it
• to stop waiting for others to make me happy
• to make my own decisions; to have an opinion
• to be me all the time, in all my permutations
• to contradict myself; to contain multitudes
• to sit alone in a room and feel complete
• to be moved; inspired
• to just be
• to lose myself in something beautiful
  

Last night was the Beaver Moon, when the animals finish gathering their wood stores and disappear underwater and into their hidden lodges for the winter. I’m not the only person for whom water is a metaphor for emotion and dream, and so I think a great deal of this moon revolves around that, and the home that dwells in the center of it (the physical self).

Given that the two nights preceding carried terrible heavy dreams, I believe this impact has only grown with the moon over her last cycle. The beaver’s internal clock begins to fall out of synch in the winter; it is believed that this happens so that there is time for all family members to leave the lodge to eat, but with heat recovery time between, to reduce the chilling impact of their wet return on the pocket of warmth they all depend on for survival (about 60 degrees).

Taken one step further, I have spent a great deal of this last month more fully exploring my own emotions, psyche, and spirit, both day and night. I have had to be careful, however, to not bring that experience too heavily on the rest of my family and compromise their comfort. In this cycle, I have realized the full impact of my being away gathering resources, and more so the impact of how I re-enter my family’s lodge. It is not hard to compromise the warmth here and leave us all more vulnerable.

For most of the last cycle, I’ve been learning how I fit into a complicated, subtle, and scared professional environment, and have spent a great deal of time bouncing my thoughts (and by extension, parts of me I am and am not proud of) off new people in my life. I have exposed more of my whole self (not just the professional side) than I would normally, through these conversations, and this has given me pause when I’m alone, exploring those same parts of myself after the fact. I’ve spent a lot of this cycle in my head. And like a dip in an icy pond, it’s been refreshing to turn inward again, but also very uncomfortable at times—especially in my dreams. And given that we have only started winter, I believe there is a lot more time left to spend in those icy waters in the coming months.

Like bears and beavers (and other winter averse animals), it is time to turn inward for a little while, and explore the complexities of a smaller and more intimate inner space.

May the goddess walk the sky beside you, if you share this winter journey. Blessed be!