The Full Moon is about Release and Gratitude they say…

Today feels…

So beautiful, divine, fresh, open, the light is shining through the spring leaves, the birds are singing, I can feel the breeze in my greying hair and every few minutes I feel a splash from the mini-kids-pool. The kids are arguing as they do - with mostly joy, splashing and curiosity.

Today in our city people are marching down town, uptown and in the suburbs. There is walking, chanting, call-outs and repeating - again (a century is too long a time - four centuries is longer). Some are wearing Covid-masks, fists are raised, knees are bent to the pavement. Others are making posters and hanging them on their windows at home. Today is day 11.

Black lives matter.

The baby is sciencE-ing

He’s dipping his hands in the mud, digging his fingernails deeper, having a taste, spitting a little and doing it all over again. His toes are thick with clay, his cover-all-swim-UV-protection-suit is no longer white with sharks and whales - it’s brown…just brown.

A squabble I knew they’d sort out and the kids resume their in-pool-philosophizing.

“When you do this, it sinks - like that - you see?”

“Yeah I do…Super-readers working together…super stories answers - super readers to the rescue!” he sings in response. Now they are singing together.

The dog is soaked from the hose and covered in clay and mud from the baby’s science experiment. He’s been chasing squirrels most of the day - none caught - and I think they are up on the power lines having a laugh at the giant fluff ball that thinks he’ll catch them one day. As the cycle goes, they will soon run into the cedar hedge with a good chuckling squeak to get his attention and the game will continue.

Cycles. The moon cycles. Today is the full moon. This is when they say the energies have risen and expanded and here we are at the crest. Things are about to shift.

This full moon day feels Wavy and jagged at the same time.

Surrounded by such beauty - but inside I’m angry, uncomfortable, restless, lost and my lips keep curling up to my nose. Not feeling the easy breezy beautiful they promised in those commercials…I don’t even know why I’m typing this except my heart said “type”. Heavy like the clay all over my son’s fingers - the grime, the cranky - I don’t know…lost, sad with a side of hope.

Another breath - my jaw is still clenching tight. The hinges feel tired and puffy. I let my tongue fall from the roof of my mouth and listen. And bam, there it is again, pissed. I want to be anywhere but here - too uncomfortable in these feelings of anger and darkness. I wonder about my friends and how they are doing today. I know I’ll never know what it’s like. Am I having the right conversations with my children? Am I listening well?

The pendulum, the back and forth, fresh, stale, the contrasts, what I’m observing on the outside on this perfect warm weather day and what I’m feeling on the inside - the mismatch feels gross, and false, and then calm again. I know this is how love works - how it continues to reveal itself.

This doesn’t feel harmonious.

Yup. Things feel out of balance. And yet - the sun is warming the little pool, things are quiet and peaceful here. Back to my breath. Back to the space between the inhale and the exhale. Back to the space between the bird calls. Back to the space between the whining and giggles. The polarity - feels like we are all separate pieces, but this actually the Peace. This is how we realize our oneness.

My daughter stands in the sun shivering from the cold of the “over spray” from the hose. When she squealed “spray me” she was sure it was an awesome idea. Now she stands shivering, mosquito bites glowing red on her goose bumpy legs, knees so small but so much bigger than last year. I see her move her shirt off her skin to make space for the heat from the sun to warm her. She finds blades of grass and dirt all over her skin and begins picking them off one by one. She’s just standing there - fully present. She moves her hair to see how it changes her shadow. She moves her arms up and down and watches, she lifts her feet off the ground and steps into a ballet-dance with her shadow. Somewhere in all of this, she stopped shivering.

My oldest son is watching ants and using a stick to direct their movement while the water drains from his orange shorts down his little 4 year old scrapped knees.

“I want to go inside and watch a movie and get all cozy. I feel like we had enough fresh air for today” he says, “The hose is outside here, but I want to be inside now.”

My Youngest gazes up, “MeeeMee”,

It means he wants milk. My baby’s nose is covered in mud and is that grass in his nostril? Internally - I wish it wasn’t so. Externally, I lift my shirt and respond - it takes a second and when his little brown eyes look up and roll back as he savours, my heart melts. Those grimy little fingers of adorable knead me to make the milk come faster…I’m covered in mud now too.

And so it is.

Like that lotus flower in the mud…is this what world-wide-human-healing looks like? Is this what rising feels like?

He drinks, he stops, he picks a dandelion flower, diaper sagging and waddles on with baby-purpose.

Straight back to the clay bath.

He squats and carefully plops the flower into the mud.

There it is - only a moment before I was thinking about the lotus flower and all it represents.

I walk over with my camera to capture the moment. Huh…look at that. It looks like the moon. The full moon.

I can feel the breeze on my skin again. The birds are still chirping away. The dog lies down in the mud too, finds the shade and pants himself to sleep. A neighbour is playing basketball and somehow the rhythm of the ball matches the rhythm of the dog’s slowing breath.

There’s more going on here than we know - I’m sure of it.

This is how today feels I guess. We get to look up to a full moon after a warm spring day with our kids feeling gratitude and hope. It also feels uncomfortable, devastating, questioning and lost - all at the same time. We are unfolding - this is the process.

This is being human.

Human being.

Our body is an experience. A processor. It invites feelings to move through. Our body will release what we feel.

I know going for a walk, singing, or dancing it out would likely help - but right now I’m siting here in my back yard.

Feeling all of this IS the release. I know that for sure - I don’t know much else right now.

It is time. There is a lot to let go. Things need to change.

Harmony is found in the space between - and it’s happening.

For now - it feels like this.

Copaiba - The oil of unveiling

Tonight I dropped a few drops of Copaiba into the palm of my hands and rubbed them together. A thunderstorm had just blown in and the dark clouds carried and dropped cold rain. Three full breaths, eyes closed and I took a few minutes to be present.

I invited and allowed the feelings - no judgement, just let them be - this is the circulation, integration and release. I trust this storm-ache to reveal where to make changes, to dig deeper into my privilege, to learn more and take action for justice and healing. I will read more (How to be Anti-Racist is on it’s way) and listen. The instructions on how to “stand up and take on the problems borne of oppression” are everywhere - our family will do more.

Because Black Lives Matter.

Though I couldn’t see the moon tonight, a bright double rainbow appeared as the wind cleared the storm clouds.

Nature is always cycling isn’t it?

Today the Full Moon invites us.

Exhale. Walk. Sing. Dance.

Integrate. Shift.

Release.

This is an unveiling.

It’s okay to be uncomfortable.