standing still moon

Winter Solstice Moon

Winter solstice is upon us, the astronomical first day of winter in the Northern Hemisphere. The word solstice comes from Latin sol “sun” and sistere “to stand still.”

Oh, standing still. 

Ok, Sweet Winter Moon, here goes:

I let go of unnecessary flurry

I let go of a hasty mind

I let go of busy-ness.

I cultivate stillness

I cultivate quietude

I cultivate tranquility.

Your turn.
Liza Fernandez

December Supermoon

December Supermoon

I usually focus on new moons but today’s full moon is extra special.

The December Full Moon is often referred to as the Full Cold Moon or Moon of the Long Nights Moon. The Zuni Indians referred to this time of the year as “sun has traveled home to rest”. Today’s Full Moon is extra big and bright as it is the last SUPERMOON of 2017. A Supermoon is when the Full Moon happens at the same time as the Moon’s perigee (moon’s closest position to earth in the moons orbit) This combination results in the Moon being a bit bigger and brighter than other times.

Ok, Supermoon, here goes:

I let go of staying small.

I let go of excuses.

I let go of insignificance.

I cultivate taking up room. 

I cultivate celebrating my super powers.

I cultivate abundance, like a boss. 

Your turn.
Liza Fernandez

The Real Me

The Real Me

1. I believe in Evolution, the process of upleveling.

2. I love to laugh and see, by first account, how humor unites us.

3. Yoga / meditation / a healthy lifestyle are my jams.

4. If it’s not a “Hell Yes!” I’m not doing it.

5. I want to cry when I start to sing.

6. I believe empathy is the secret sauce to healing and change.

7. Curiosity and Beginner’s Mind are the most frequented tools in my tool box.

8. “I Have Time” is my new religion.

9. My father’s death taught me how fleeting this life is.

10. Love is Love is Love is Love is Love.

Liza Fernandez

November Beaver Moon

november beaver moon

November’s full Moon was called the Beaver Moon by both the colonists and the Algonquin tribes because this was the time to set beaver traps before the swamps froze, to ensure a supply of warm winter furs.

Ok, here goes:

I let go of fatty waste. 

I let go of stagnant voices.

I let go of emotional traps.

I cultivate smart hibernation.

I cultivate bone-broth-for-the-soul love.

I cultivate this moment, right now.  

Your turn.
Liza Fernandez

october blood moon

october blood moon

October’s Moon is often referred to as the Full Hunter’s Moon, Blood Moon, or Sanguine Moon. Many moons ago, Native Americans named this bright moon for obvious reasons. The leaves are falling from trees, the deer are fattened, and it’s time to begin storing up meat for the long winter ahead. Because the fields were traditionally reaped in late September or early October, hunters could easily see fox and other animals that come out to glean from the fallen grains. Probably because of the threat of winter looming close, the Hunter’s Moon is generally accorded with special honor, historically serving as an important feast day in both Western Europe and among many Native American tribes.

Ok, full blood moon, here goes:

I let go of ignorance.

I let go of fear.

I let go of the separation.

I cultivate kindness amongst adversity.

I cultivate silence.

I cultivate Unity.

Your turn.
Liza Fernandez

tomorrow

Waiting...

An ache.
A pain so sharp, it cuts.
Senses are lost in a fog, come back soon.
And there’s a void.
A real one.
Why did he have to go?

Heart beats heavy sighs and legs demand a slower pace.
It takes a million years for arms to move this way and that.
Three weeks is a very long time..
Huge.
Ginormous.
And yet, benign.

I think of those who’ve passed.
Like the pictures of Ron Heren, taped to the fatal pole, the one that ended his life.
A corner where Jackie and I must wait for the lights to change.
Death.
Leaving your loved one is like a death.
And yet, so benign.

Continue reading “tomorrow”

happy birthday [boom poem for lover]

happy birthday, my love

We celebrate my beautiful man’s birthday today.
I wrote this poem when we first met.
I haven’t changed my mind on any of it.

Happy birthday, my love.

He’s quite the badass.
He’s a rebel and he’s the too cool for school.
He’s behind the crowd, he’s the slow walker, he’s the leader of the pack without trying to be.
He’s the sage and the delinquent in one.
He’s the joker, the enigma, the shadow, and then also the ray that seeps in slowly, ever so slowly, before blasting up the room.

Oh, the ever present, Sun. The Son.

He walks into a space and, “All Hail Caesar!”
But he doesn’t like that.
Maybe he doesn’t hear it?
Could be that he tries to ignore it.
I mean, come on, it’s only natural.
Stupid me, should’ve known.

Continue reading “happy birthday [boom poem for lover]”