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.
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.
When do I come first?
No, that’s a real question.
Is it after peeing and before taking my probiotics?
Is it after my tea brews and before I check email?
Is it once Jackie is walked, pissed, pooed and fed?
When do I show up for me?
After cleaning up the kitchen and before the clock hits 10am?
After taking out the trash and before the rest of my to-do list comes a-knockin’?
Am I worth the investment?
Time for me hits home the hardest when I see someone else doing it.
A “Wow”, a respect, an inspiration; sometimes an anger, a jealousy, an envy – all of those feelings come flying out of —
My heart? My soul? The little voice within?
I struggle with balance everyday. I know you do too.
Call mum (it’s been a while), connect with best friend, look boyfriend in the eyeballs when he shares a story, hold off the worry/panic/stress/concern/time racing. Leave that at the door. For now. This here. A moment.
You can start now.
Full day’s rest.
That’s what I yearn for; sleeping in, steaming soup, away from email.
Oh, don’t you worry, I hear ya.
I’ll give it to you.
You won’t be ignored.
Full day’s rest.
I want rich dreams
With puffy pillows and cuddle-monster chats, and less of this.
I want fiction and other galactic worlds, and Once upon a time’s…
Bones, don’t start to ache.
Wait it out –
’til next week, too much is at stake this weekend.
Full day’s rest.
Close your eyes more often.
Slow down; remember, “in a million years”
You can do it! I believe in you.
Snail’s pace / Nature’s race.
Brush your teeth.
Shut the laptop.
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.
I’m thinking on the humdrum of it all…
There’s a song that blew my socks off a few years ago; where suddenly the world contracted into a small butterball in my hand.
The stark realization that we’re all connected, in some way or another.
The song is Everybody’s Free to Wear Sunscreen.
A music video by Baz Luhrmann, one of my all-time filmmaker heroes.
The lyrics are taken from a famous essay — written by Mary Schmich, my yoga teacher and a columnist for the Chicago Tribune.
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that
never crossed your worried mind
the kind that blindsides you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Continue reading “tuesday and butterballs”
I hold a cup of black tea in a Starbucks vintage mug; the tea is not their’s and tastes way better. There’s a chip on the cup. I should dispose of it but I chose not to.
I’m feeling a joyful glee in my heart cuz my partner returns home tomorrow. How four weeks has fast forward and slowed down all at once. I recall his warm soft lips and how they just fit mine.
I sit still as the sun beams down on my skin. It’s warm with a cool breeze reminding us winter is around the corner. The critical mind tells me to pull away (wrinkles, remember), but I don’t. Fly kisses from the sun reach the smile spreading across my cheeks.
I’m wondering if this is what they mean by “bliss”. This moment. On my own.
That hop-skip-and-a-jump feeling, that “skip to my lou my darling” pep to the step.
I try not to choke it; surrendering is a joy ride.
Fly kisses to the sun and back.