Warmth and culmination — summer is supposed to be the peak of the annual cycle, but I wasn’t expecting the intensity of what the summer has offered me thus far. My part of the country is on fire. We are safe, but the land is burning. The thick, smoky air in the Pacific Northwest has made it hard to breathe. Hard to breath means hard to move. It’s hard to move my body, it hard to navigate through my emotions and hard to move forward with my goals.
But the summer moon has been wild and inspiring, eclipsing and dancing in the shadows. Her cycles have been ticking by quickly like a clock working double time, but despite the rapid cyclic changes, I feel stuck. Caught somewhere between the moons beautiful dance and the hot stillness of the summer air.
This week, she’s painted herself red to honor the wildfires on the earth below her. Although I have been in awe of the sheer power of nature, the transitions haven’t been easy to digest.
As the Moon eclipsed the Sun at the beginning of this lunar cycle, she pulled tears from my eyes, cooling my soul from the depths of the summer heat.
My tears, like the tides, move with the moon. She has guided me this summer in exploring the shadow and release that which is not serving. She has helped me cut through old cords and my tears have washed and purified me. My body is prepared for the next cycle.
I’ve been struggling to make sense of it all in my head, which make actually makes sense. Half of the large celestial bodies in our solar system are in retrograde as the moon waxes towards a full moon. It’s been intense. My intuition keeps telling me to ride it out, this is my path.
All summer, I have been feeling the tug between the shadow and the expanding light. And while the constant shifting from shadow to light is uncomfortable, it’s part of the growing process that I am committed to.
Learning to navigate these summer nights in the smoky light of the moon has required me to develop specific self-care tools. These tools help me while I release and surrender to the great cycle.
Here are some of the questions I have been asking myself:
Are these emotions actually mine? Or is this a reaction to someone else’s energy?
What can I do to cool myself if I’m feeling emotionally overheated?
What lessons live in the smoke of the wildfires?
How can I use the light to work in the shadows?
This summer I am learning to see through the smoke and feel through the darkness.
I will see clearly again, but only when the leaves turn, and when the temperatures change and when the smoke clears.
Until then I will tromp through the summer shadows, and burn like a wildfire, with only my memories of the eclipse to cool me.