hair, happiness, health.

Wednesday, 30 November 2016

Dark Path, New Moon



This is Venus, low on the horizon, lighting my way through the dark woods.  Feeling my way along the path today, one foot in front of the other, moving forward with my dear canine friend Ernie and a distant planet as my companions. 

The moon turned today, she became new just after noon, although she will remain unseen for a day or two, I don't know when that silver sliver will appear, but I will be watching for her.  Now that my own hormones are quiet, in my crone years, she is my guide, she illuminates my internal rhythm.

Today was empty of energy for creation or healing.  There was nothing to be done save to sit and sob occasionally, crochet, drink tea, watch DVDs and gently guide my thoughts away from my lifelong pattern of negative self-talk and judgement.  I sat in the emptiness for a few hours, then we rose as the sun set and we walked into the woods.  Crazy woman and little dog into the dark wood.  Sometimes no light to see by, but still, moving forwards slowly. Down into the cold dell, and up I look and see this distant planet with nothing and nobody between it and me.

My daughter came home to stay for the night. When I had left home this afternoon it had felt like prison walls, but now with my son and Dave home from work, bringing my youngest girl, it was like heaven. We shared the vegetable stew I made today, and she bought wine and cake. I lit the candles at the table and after hot baths we snuggled up in bed with tv, crochet and hot water bottles, like when she was a baby girl in the big bed.

I will wake to the wages having gone into the bank, to a new moon, and a new month. Much gratitude. 

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Sunday, 27 November 2016

Love and Life and Struggle and Joy #Gratitude

Gray Suv Under Blue Starry Sky during Nighttime

Mr M and I enjoy a wild night out, (alcohol sneaked in my bag...it is the end of the month and no money) and we suffer the following day, awoken by grandbabies...no quarter given!
When they go home to their Sunday bath and tea, we catch Tesco's last hour, the holy building radiating glitter like a mirage in negative, reflecting in dark puddles of oily rain.  We can afford two carrier bags worth, and honestly, I'm the richest woman on earth tonight.
The Friday before this wild weekend I sat in the drop-in clinic with a mother and her three day old baby boy...their passage had been rough.  He hadn't yet got his head around taking the nipple and suckling.  They were skin-to-skin.  The midwife spoke to the baby boy, using his name, her hand above his head, circling the air, stroking him, but not touching his body. She acknowledged his efforts, and he knew she was speaking to him. Two and a half hours they spent, held in the wisdom and compassion of this woman.  Mum fed him some of her milk from a bottle to reward his efforts and keep up his strength, then back he went to her breast, learning that good things were here.
My friend picked me up from this most sacred work, how I love that he doesn't need words.  I love that he speaks to the little person in me, who had a rough passage at the start of her life.  He eats at the house with us, and takes my car home.  Mr M. is beset by money worries, so I speak to the little one in him, soothing him in the way that woman taught me.  

Later on in our bed, very late, he is pained by a muscle strain, and we acknowledge 'the money', our pit of despair, our crushing debts, but we are not crushed by them tonight.  Instead, I download a free app which shows the names of the stars above us.  We have a laugh, and make furious love in the dark, and in the eye in my mind the black sky is our roof going back aeons into timeless glittering diamond carbon life.
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Friday, 25 November 2016

Moon Mysteries



I remember many moons ago, a night-time or maybe early morning dream of being in the dead of night outside our local hospital, an old brick building with huge, complicated stained-glass windows like a Cathedral.  I was looking at this empty dark building, and whilst everything around was still black, the midnight sun popped over the horizon and sent a shaft of pure gold which might have been light, or sound, a vibration, which hit the glass windows exploding them to colourful life. More colours than I knew existed were released from the prism of the glass. As this happened, the congregation inside the powerful old church began to sing the sound of the light, so many voices joined together to make this pure note, and I realised that I was standing on the grass verge in bare feet, because the grass was softer than I could ever have imagined, and warm and wet with blood.

From there I entered a yurt, very low to the ground, with its floor dug out of the earth, in the centre was a burning pit of glowing red coals.  Back to the wall I edged around the fire-pit, feeling the warm, wet walls of this womb space, softer and more nourishing and caressing than anything I can recall. I knocked an ancient artefact from its spot on the wall as I moved, and a well of blood flowed.  There was an entrance that I was moving towards, guarded by the roots of a tree and metal and light were outside.  When I awoke from this, it was to find with delight that my blood time was here, along with the release and creativity it brings.

The dream was rich with synaesthesia, aroma, sound and light.  It called me to the study and work with women's mysteries, including birth.  When the membranes between worlds burst within moments of the zenith of this super moon, I thought of how Selene has presided over so many labours.  I have seen her holy glow through frosted bathroom windows where a woman is moving in the dark water.  She has followed me home, suspended low like a yellow smile in the field of haystacks behind my house as I walked back from a birth. Even in her darkness, as she turns, we know that there is a release and birth may follow. 

This time we didn't see her through the clouds.  Heavy curtains shut, room very dim, thick with that aroma, that dancing vibration of life, manifesting darkly this time, though we knew she was there. We could feel her presence even though we couldn't see her riding high like a ship on that deep dark sea, 14 per cent times whatever closer to us than she will be again until I am an old, old woman.

Bone-tired and high I drove home in the wet, washed morning, thinking of her, and as I turned into the road there she was, low in the sky!  Both of us going home in our evening dresses, sinking down to rest after the glories of the night.  She appeared to me by happy surprise like my blood time that morning, an affirmation, a gift, a release of creative energy and force for the good.



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