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Drawing Down the Moon and Burning the Rest

Drawing Down the Moon and Burning the Rest

Luna Pyre Well Torchbearer

To me, the moon is the embodiment of the sacred feminine, the keeper of secrets and the reflection of our inner selves; a metaphor for the stages of the maiden, mother and crone. The moon is the sister, mother, grandmother that has watched over me all my days.

The moon was there for me when there was no one else. I know that this resurgence in witch esthetic makes being a moon lover a trope, but I have spent so many nights drawing down the moon that it is validating that she comforts and fascinates so many others.

Having moved around constantly since childhood, I have no meaningful or long serving friendships and no real connections with my family. Consumed in grief and loneliness I have found myself wandering outside on many nights, captivated by the moon’s many forms. I would whisper to her my many secrets, and let the tears flow that I could share only with her.

I would beg of her to give me the strength to steadfastly know my place in the universe in all my many phases as she did.

I would talk to her as if she were my long estranged friends and hope that they hear me.

She was the one to dry my tears, and remind me of who I am meant to be.

She is the one who sat with me through so many tragedies.

She is the one who held me back from doing the unthinkable.

During one of the lowest points of my life, she gave me the most precious of gifts.
It was the night of the fall equinox and I was helping my friend propose to her girlfriend, who were both pagan. It involved a very extensive scavenger hunt that I had help facilitate but after happily spending six hours making my dearest friends’ dream proposal come to life, I went back to my corner of the world where the reality of my existence set in. I was whole heartedly ecstatic for them, but their love – and life – was a stark contrast of my own dismal circumstances.

I remember going outside and being taken over by the sobbing that racked my body. I lit a candle and begged the moon. Please bring love to my life. Help me love myself. Help me make friends so that the beauty of the world no longer cripples my heart with my own darkness. Please do not let me be this sad, empty person for a moment longer.

The train let out a long, lonesome whistle from the valley over. The hoot owls’ haunting calls echoed through the woods. Crickets kept with their song. Everything around me kept moving as I sat broken in the darkness, as if even nature were dismissing me. My pain felt inconsolable, and my deep wounds were laid open as wide as the night sky that I wished would swallow me whole. For the first time I felt like not even my beloved Mother Moon could comfort me.

I have a habit of drying any cut flowers I am gifted, and once upon a time I was naively in love with a very abusive person. You know how the story goes – a young healer in an abusive relationship with a manipulating narcissist – and the rose petals of all the promises he used to reel me in time after time. I cut my hand and let my blood drip upon the petals, hoping to give the most precious sacrifice I could think of with my blood and to bind myself to the making of this sacred vow that I would never again be so foolish, so eager to uplift someone that it would be my own demise ever again. I offered the sacrifice to the moon and watched the petals crackle and sizzle in the flame under the moonlight.

Help me to heal myself before I lose all sight of who I really am, I begged.

By the time the next lunar cycle hit I was living in a house of friends. Safe. Nurturing my spirit. Meeting and reconnecting with others that I had so desperately needed to fill the emptiness in my life. Accepting who I really was as a spiritual person.

Though I didn’t know it at the time, that night was the beginning of my shift as a torch bearer.

This peaceful moment in my story only lasted a few short blissful months before absolute all hell broke loose.

I find myself at these crossroads again, the path just as shrouded now as it was then and so I can’t help but reflect on these times as I purge what holds me back, most especially parts of myself. I feel like I’m on the verge of losing everything once more but this time I’m the one holding the matches for the fire that is purifying my life.

The new moon has risen, and I refuse to live another day, let alone another decade tormented by the insecurities planted within me from those who were supposed to build me up. I refuse to do anything other than take up all the space I should have been claiming all this time, to stand strong instead of shrinking away, to make myself heard and seen.

I am devastated by the many times I have had to rebuild my life from the ashes, but at this point I would rather have nothing than live a fragile existence in a house made of sticks. I will rebuild over and over again until nothing can shake this foundation.

I want nothing less for whoever reads this.

Let yourself break. Watch your world crumble, set it on fire, cleanse it with the flood of your tears….So long as you reach down within yourself afterwards, peel away another layer to discover who you really are, and take up your torch with the rest of us to light the path for those who cannot yet see.

Draw down the moon, especially when you feel alone, lost, broken and know that you are not any of those things for long. There is a solidarity in the hearts of your fellow moon lovers, witches, and torch bearers and we hear you. We are there -if only in spirit- cheering you on, crying and laughing with you.

Let this Capricorn season influence you to take charge of the destiny you could have, manifest the most intimidating of your dreams, and heal yourself from all that has plagued you from these last ten years. Own your heartaches, your mistakes, your tragedies, your losses…Bask in your triumphs – no matter how small, reflect on your goals and bring them to the light.

Burn down what doesn’t serve you and find the strength to build again.

Let this new decade be unapologetically YOURS.

  • Author Posts
Luna Pyre is a lifelong occultist born into the traditions of Appalachian folk magick. Raised as a ridge-runner Luna grew up living in accordance to the many lands to which she wandered. She is a Seer, word-slinging conjurer, and esoteric Creatrix. Having spent most of her life as a walker between worlds she communes with spirit and the Divine inherent to us all.
  • Luna Pyre Well Torchbearer
    Drawing Down the Moon and Burning the Rest
    To me, the moon is the embodiment of the sacred feminine, the keeper of secrets and the reflection of our inner selves; a metaphor for the stages of the maiden, mother and crone. The moon is the sister, mother, grandmother that has watched over me all my days. The moon was there for me when […]
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    To me, the moon is the embodiment of the sacred feminine, the keeper of secrets and the reflection of our inner selves; a metaphor for the stages of the maiden, mother and crone. The moon is the sister, mother, grandmother that has watched over me all my days. The moon was there for me when […]
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Luna Pyre is a lifelong occultist born into the traditions of Appalachian folk magick. Raised as a ridge-runner Luna grew up living in accordance to the many lands to which she wandered. She is a Seer, word-slinging conjurer, and esoteric Creatrix. Having spent most of her life as a walker between worlds she communes with spirit and the Divine inherent to us all.
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