Wednesday, January 21, 2015
Old and new, messy and bright
Last night was the first new moon of the year.
New moons herald beginnings. They invite certainty, intention. And signal a window of opportunity where effort towards building foundations will be rewarded, fruitful.
The best I can do this new moon is: let me be present with as much courage and grace as I can muster.
There's nothing wrong. I mean to say, everything is actually humming along quite nicely. 2014 ended with the realisation that everything I hoped for had come to pass. I was also blessed with the chance to rest and recover after being ejected from the conveyor belt that carried me through Reverb, the end of the academic year, the festive season. 2015 promises to be one of the most powerful years ever.
Right now, it feels like we're in a holding pattern. But it also feels like everything is on the brink of changing.
My daughter is on school holidays until the end of next week. Many of the local service providers who support our daily lives are still straggling back from holidays of their own. A routine, including regular babysitting (= writing time for me), is only just falling into place. The hottest part of Summer beckons.
Early signs are emerging that my breastfeeding days are numbered. The changes may be subtle, and mainly confined to my body, but everyone in our house is feeling them.
I find myself obsessed with Black Madonnas, Artemis, the divine feminine. Labyrinths. Bees.
My daughter is starting at a new school this year and we are all, in our own ways, a bit nervous about that.
She had a meltdown yesterday because I offered to buy her an icecream. To be fair, I asked her to think about whether she really wanted an icecream because it was a sweet treat and it would mean that she would not be able to have any other sweet treats for the day. (My daughter has a flair for inveigling her way into more and more sweet treats as the day progresses. Or maybe I am just a sap.)
I let her cry and carry on while I helped her out of her bathers. Then I asked her to help me understand what was going on. As far as I could see, she was having a meltdown because I offered to buy her an ice cream.
"I don't know!" She wailed, "This is just a weird time!"
This week, my best friend finalised her contract for a fantastic new job after many months of seeking. I sent her a posy of flowers from her favourite florist. I couldn't resist its vibrant blooms but also because it was called "The time is bright".
It's hot, overcast and humid here in Melbourne. I had a sacred two hours to myself in my writing studio yesterday and spent most of the time squinting into the glare leeching through my window. I polished off a massive bag of chocolate candy and rearranged the fairy lights on my walls.
The time is, indeed, bright.
And as my daughter pointed out, more than a little bit weird.
Last night, I skyped with my therapist and cried a lot. I haven't cried a lot for a long time and they felt like old, old tears.
Beginnings, I am learning, also herald endings.
This post is in response to the first prompt of the Reverb14 reflective writing challenge. All prompts can be found here; you are warmly invited to share your response and link to it in the comments below, if you feel called to do so.
The next opportunity to connect in this is way April Moon and we'd love to have you join us!