Sturgeon Moon

I’m waiting for that moon, tonight.

The full moon. The lunar eclipse riding in the Aquarius constellation. The autumn’s change moon that is supposed to shake things up, change my world, and rattle all the cages, freeing beasts and beauties alike.

I’m waiting for this fiery moon to rise.

Something has to change.

I’ve told friends that I’m tired of being single, that I’d like to have a “special someone” again. That I want a relationship with someone that I know is headed toward commitment, eventually.

That, someday, I want to get married again.

And they tell me to “be patient”, that love will find me when I least expect it.

But how does that happen when you don’t ever go out, meet new people, try new things & new places?

And no, I’m not going on the dating apps again. I’ve gotten into enough trouble for myself there.

But, you ask, to rely on the moon to change this…isn’t that stretching credulity a bit?

Not in my faith, it’s not.

Being Pagan, I look to the universe to hand me my cues, and yes, that means the moon’s cycles, the stars in the heavens, the ebb and flow of the seasons & the tides.  The energies that I receive from contact with nature help me in more ways than one, and often.  

Sometimes, I forget that.

So, tonight, I’m drawing in the moon, calling her light into myself, and bathing in the changes she is going to bring.

Because I am a child of that moon, those stars, this earth.  

And I will honor and remember…

And try to be patient.


Good Night Moon

The full moon occurred on Friday night, and was carried over through the weekend, into the Spring Equinox, or as we Pagans call it, Ostara.

I captured this picture from my driveway on Friday evening.

I love the moon.

When I was a kid, I was frightened of the dark.  Terribly, awfully afraid – almost to the point of phobia.

It wasn’t until after I finally started learning about Wicca, that I stopped fearing the dark, and learned that it could be a comfort, too.  The moon is now, to me, the Mother’s face, watching, protecting, empowering me.

She hangs up there, throughout the night, my favorite time, and even when her face is not full, there is a special magick that follows her, and makes me smile when I see her.  It’s always been said that there’s a “man in the moon”, but they lie. 

It’s the Goddess’ face I see there.

This second picture was sent to me via text, the same night, from someone very dear to me, who knows about my fascination with the moon.

I love the fact that the camera on this phone turned the moon blue.  Beautiful, absolutely stunning.

It was a thoughtful, sweet gesture, and it was the perfect gift.

The next night, EldestDaughter came into town, as she had agreed to go to prom with a friend here in our town.  She stopped by the house, just so I could take pictures of her in her dress, as I didn’t get any when she actually went to her senior prom (a tale for another day), and so I FINALLY got my prom pictures of her…. 2 years late.

I told her about the “supermoon”, and later that same evening, I received this:

EldestDaughter also knows about my absolute love of the moon – and that she was thinking about me while at a dance with friends?  Priceless.

Also, one of EldestDaughter’s favorite books is “Goodnight Moon” by Margaret Wise Brown.

It was one of my favorites to read to the kids when they were little, and I think we have 3 copies of this book floating around the house. 

My favorite part?  The ending.

Goodnight stars

Goodnight air

Goodnight noises, everywhere.

(Goodnight, Moon, I love you)

Hard Truths In The Moon’s Light

I got to see the Mother’s face last night, washed clean, renewed and reborn.  It was lovely.  A brilliant silver disc high in the sky, with clouds drifting swiftly across it. 

This is a picture of the final portion of the eclipse, there was just a fraction of her face that was still covered.  You can’t see it here, my phone didn’t take great photos, but you get the idea.  This was the view from my driveway.  Looking up, at that moonlight, I wanted to lie back in the snow and let it wash everything from the last few days, weeks, months, away.  Instead, I stood, dressed in my jammies, and wrapped in a blanket, under that silver moonlight and prayed. 

I prayed to the Mother that I could let go of the anger and depression that has been plaguing me for so long now.  That I could be revitalized, under her luminous gaze, and renewed of purpose.  That I could take off the mask that I wear most days, my “professional” face, that I show to most everyone now, and just be me.

And I received an answer.

If you want to be renewed, first you have to Let Go.

Let Go.

Two simple words that are nearly impossible to actually do.

Even now, I had to stop writing this, and click over to something else for a minute, to collect my thoughts, and stop when an obstruction clogged my throat.  Fear.  It blurs my vision and stops my thought processes for a moment.

I have to let go of all the pain of the past, and I don’t know how I’m going to do it.  I can’t move forward, grow into what I truly want to be, until I take this step.  And to be honest, hanging onto some of these past pains has kept me going in tough times.  Spurred me to be the opposite of whoever it was that hurt me, kept me from making the same mistakes more than once. 

Pain can be a useful tool.  It keeps your hand out of the fire, shows you why it’s a bad idea to slide down the stairs head-first, and that a spoonful pepper is not like a spoonful of sugar at all.

But it also ties you to the past.

Binds you up in your own chains of memory, and tosses you into a room, locked within yourself, full of all the dark shadows you have created.

I am not responsible for what others hold onto.  Their issues are not my baggage.

I am only responsible for what I have carried with me all these years.

And somehow, some way, I need to learn to break this chain.

Let Go.