New Moon in Scorpio, 28th October 2008

Hi everyone,

To all of you who have reached out to me this week, thank you so much for your support. For those who have no idea what I'm talking about - read on. It is times like these that I so appreciate this extended circle and the love and support that it brings to me.


Calling the circle
As we contemplate this new moon, feeling strongly connected to the way our hearts and spirits seem to be one at this time of year, we summon the spirits of the East, spirits of Springtime, new beginnings, new starts. Element of air, first breath, cool dawn. The power of life, springing forth. We call the spirits of the East.

We call now to the spirits of the South, spirits of strength, power, warmth, clarity, motivation, energy, movement. Element of fire, bright fires lit at midday. The power of light, illuminating us. The fire that is our passion, burning deeply within is always. We call the spirits of the South.

And we call to the Spirits of the West. Spirits of our season, of our deepest feelings, our strongest emotions, our truest love. A sunset over a calm ocean, a still lake reflecting back the sky, the still waters that run deep, deep within. Element of water, emanating the power of love. We call to the spirits of the West.

Now we call the spirits of the North. Spirits of midnight, dark moonless skies in winter, places where truths are told. Element of earth, grounding us. Power of law, karma, ancestral wisdom, we call to the spirits of the North.

And we call to those spirits above us, angels, stars, heavens, light beings everywhere, those souls not yet incarnate. Children of our children. We call the spirits above.

And we call to the spirits below us, to the earth that grounds us and keeps us steady, the green kingdom with its deep roots and to the lava beneath the crust that impassions us. We call the spirits below.

Finally, we call to the spirits of the center, where all the directions meet and merge and where they meet and merge in each one of us. The central flame. The sacred spirit. This circle is closed, a safe and sacred circle where everyone is welcome and free to express themselves.

Where is the Moon?
The Scorpio new moon has so much power – the power to regenerate, the power of real truth, the power to destroy. Sometimes things have to be brought down to be rebuilt – and this is the kind of moon that can inspire that. It is a time of death, then regeneration, transcendence. This all feels extremely poignant to me at this moon. It is a time to go deep within, plumb the depths, and then hopefully emerge stronger, lighter, wiser.

Talking stick
I am on a plane heading for Florida, for the funeral of my niece Melissa. Melissa was killed in a car accident on Thursday night, hit by a truck on an interstate. She was 19, and the daughter of my brother Kerry, who was killed in Iraq 18 years ago this February. Melissa was just two when he died.

For the first ten years of her life I think everyone in my family clung to her and her brother because they were a part of him, and he lived on in them. Not that we didn’t love them for themselves, but I know that sometimes, sitting on a couch with one arm around each of them it would make me cry because I would feel so close to him. As she got older she definitely became more of her own person, and I saw her more that way, especially in the last three years, although most of that has been from afar, since I’ve been in England. She had just started to find her adult identity and I was so proud of her for that.

I always thought that somehow because of what happened to Kerry, that Melissa and Christopher would have something of a free pass. But it hasn’t been the case. Their first cousin died only a few years ago in a car accident. Their other grandmother died unexpectedly from an aneurism still rather young. It hasn’t been an easy path and I think most especially for Christopher, who is now left without the person he was closest to in the world. I don’t pretend to understand any of this and it is likely I never will. But, then there is faith. I wrote about the anthill a while back, about the perspective of the ant being so narrow, narrower than our perspective of it, and so maybe that is me – maybe I am still the ant and someday perhaps my awareness will be so much broader and I’ll be able to see how this event fits into a series of other events, keys turning locks throughout the decades. But not right now.

In fact, my journey through this is twofold, I think: one, there is no way through it but through it. I would rather skip around it, over it, away from it and if I thought it would work I might try that. But it won’t. I have to walk straight through this and that is that. And it sucks. I love her and am so unbelievably sad that she is gone.

The second part of this is that, despite the above, I am no longer the grief-stricken person of my past, defining myself through the losses in my life. I am coming from a place of real happiness and contentment in my life, and with a strong spiritual center that gives me comfort and power. It is not a passive spirituality; it demands that I bring all my heart, all my love, all my energy to everything that I do, everywhere that I go. I can’t be comforted by platitudes, but I believe that my niece, myself and all of us are a part of God/dess and that together we are that light in the world. Her dying didn’t change that for either of us. That is what I believe, but I am also pleased to not be bringing so much righteous religious anger and baggage with me. I can experience comfort there too possibly, which will be a nice change from my formerly angry self.

Finally, I had an amazing realization about fear. My husband, who is nowhere near over his own grief from his loss jus a few weeks ago, is going through feeling that life is so fragile at the moment, which is, of course, understandable. I used to feel that way too – that if I moved this way or that, something bad might happen again. Then, when I started to recover from the series of losses that I experienced in 1991, I began to feel a bit fearless, immune, since I had already survived the worst. I don’t feel that way now, and I realize that for a large part it is because of my love for Gary and Owen. I love being here so much because things are wonderful with them and in our life and the thought of losing that is sometimes almost paralyzing. So, my challenge in all of this, and for this new moon, is to face that fear. And to live with a bigger, more loving vulnerable heart. Because at the end of the day, that is the only way that I want to live.

I wish I could think of something profound to say about Melissa to end. I can’t. I hope that at some point when this is all over I feel able to connect to her light and love and that will be the best way I can think of to remember her.

Meditation
Imagine yourself lying on the ground beneath a beautiful willow tree, whose branches touch the ground all around you, so you are completely enclosed within the tree’s embrace. The ground feels perfectly comfortable, the air a perfect temperature, and the earth below you feels soft and yielding. As you breathe in and out feel that you are breathing in time with the gentle breeze around you, moving the branches of the willow in time with your breath. Then allow yourself to imagine that you are getting smaller – smaller and smaller until you are so small that you can stand up and walk into the tree that you were lying underneath. Walking into the tree, looking up, note the vast branch system, how tall and high it is, looking down, note the vast root system, reaching down into the earth farther than you can see. Then, notice that one of the roots is larger than the others, and resembles a spiral staircase that you can walk down. Imagine then stepping onto the 13th step, the step of transformation, then spiraling down and around and inward to the 12th step, then down and around to the 11th and the 10th, spiraling down and around and inward to the 9th, then the 8th, then around and inward to the 7th and the 6th step. Then, pausing on the sixth step, note that as you look up you can no longer see the top, and looking down, that you can no longer see the bottom. You are standing in the middle of the spiral, in a moment of infinite perfection. If there is anything that you are carrying that you don’t want to take with you on your journey, you can leave it on this step. Continuing then to the 5th step and the 4th, spiraling around to the 3rd and the 2nd and then finally the 1st step, then stepping into a clearing with four doorways, each pointing in one of the four directions. Imagine yourself walking down the pathway that heads west.

You step out into a beautiful meadow, not a lush summer meadow, but a meadow of autumn, with yellow grasses and dried flowers. The time of day is sunset, almost twilight, allowing the light to feel as though it is fading, but still allowing enough light to see clearly. You contemplate the light as you step onto the path, the color of it, how it changes the landscape. You are joined on the path by an animal guide, who is so pleased to see you. You greet your guide, then move along the path together, talking, asking your guide any questions that you might have. Your guide then offers to carry you to your destination. You climb on and either ride or fly over the meadow, noting the differences in the landscape when they are surveyed at a distance. As you move along, you notice a dwelling place in the distance, one that is very familiar to you. You realize that your guide is taking you in that direction. As you get closer you realize that you have come to the home of your wise woman. Your guide allows you to climb off at the door, waiting for you for the return journey.

As you are about to knock, the door swings open and you are greeted by your wise woman. She gives you a loving embrace and leads you to the kitchen where she is cooking for you. She offers you whatever it is that she has cooked for you, and you sit and eat or drink with her, asking any questions that you may have, or asking for any wisdom that she might wish to share with you.

When you are ready, she leads you away from the kitchen, down a hallway with many doors. You see a doorway at the end of the hallway that is calling to you and you head to that door. You open the door into a very dark room, lit dimly by candles around the perimeter. In the center you see a well, with a seat next to it. You sit in the seat and your wise woman draws a cup of liquid from the well to give to you. Before allowing you to drink it, she explains that for every sip, one deep feeling, one truth or one piece of knowledge that you need will be revealed to you; maybe one deep bit of wisdom, or one insight of deep intuition. She offers you the cup and when ready you take a sip. You allow yourself the time to truly experience what comes to you after the sip and then, if you choose, you take another. If you are unsure of the knowledge you are given, you ask your wise woman for clarity. You continue until you feel that it is enough for now, knowing that you can always return to this place. When you are ready to leave, your wise woman asks you to hold your hand open and offers you an object to remind you of the gifts of the well. You take it into your hand, asking any questions that you might have of her as you head out of the room and back toward the front of the house. When you get to the room where you began, your wise woman leads you to the door. You say your goodbyes, and while in her embrace, she whispers one word or phrase that will help you to remember your intention for the month and your experience at the well.

When you walk outside, your guide is waiting to carry you back across the meadow. You climb back onto its back, riding or flying with your guide, asking any questions that you might have along the way. Your guide delivers you back to the doorway, where you say your goodbyes.

Stepping back up onto the first step, spiraling upward and outward to the second step and the third, and upward and outward to the third step and the fourth. Then spiraling around to the fifth and the sixth step, and pausing now on the sixth step, retrieving anything that you left behind before, or just leaving it behind in that perfect moment in infinity. Climbing now to the seventh and upward to the eighth, upward and outward to the ninth, then the tenth, and around to the eleventh and the twelfth and then finally to the thirteenth step, the step of transformation, then back into to the tree. Stepping out of the tree, you find your place beneath it, again enjoying the sweet breath of the breeze. Then feeling your consciousness return to the space you are in, and, when ready opening your eyes.

Prayers for our circle

For Melissa’s family, her brothers, mother, father, cousins; her boyfriend and circle of friends. I would pray that they are able to find some peace in all of this.

Continued prayers for the friends and family of Nita, Gary’s friend.

Much love,

Tara