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Under the light of the full moon, I write


Under the light of the full moon...

I wonder about my ancestors' ancestors.  How did they mark the full moon?  What did they do to honor the brightness, the fullness, the radiance of this moon?

I wonder about my soul in the past.  When I look at the moon shining in her full light, I feel connected to her.  She and I convene.  I feel the need to gather herbs under the light.  I set out my crystals and imagine the moon bathing me in her light.  I feel my inner tides rising.  I honor my ebb and flow.

I think about my own cycle.  How it dances around the full and the new, how it never stands still in one place.

I remember my intentions.  I look back and I look forward.  I make lists and plans.  I am full of gratitude.

I meditate.  The moon's light permeates through my chakras, she balances, she spins, she aligns.

I speak of Selene.  I am looking for her details.  I know there is more to her than her flowing hair.  In my conversation, I say, "let's make up our own myth.  We can be story tellers, too."

I tell the story of Chang-o, the Chinese goddess who liked to move around.  From the heavens to earth to the moon, she traveled.  She decided to settle on the moon, and when it is full, her love visits her.  Her rabbit companion can be seen in the moon, if you look closely. 

I know she is there, beneath the clouds.

I intend to pull one card, but The Hermit and The Moon come out together.  They know.  I'm wrapped up in my mister's robe, I'm bowing under the light.  I'm aware of the lunacy that lingers.  I'm diving into the subconscious, hibernating. 

I am always drawing within.

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