Mystery of the Dark Moon


During my heart practice this morning, something our teacher offered stuck with me. 

She said, "Learn how to cultivate trust in the mystery of the unknown." 

I've been reading a book about the mystery of the dark moon and her healing powers. Over the past year, I've spent a lot of time staring at la luna. I've become so curious about her energetic dance with darkness. The book has brought clarity to my own experience with darkness and its healing ways. Late last year, I had noticed a significant shift in my relationship with physical darkness. It was unbelievable to experience this change, which seemed to happen so organically, given how terrified of the dark I've been most of my life. I can't help but speculate that my increased comfort with darkness is connected to my deepening trust with the mystery of life. 

In a week, my spiritual being turns 34. And literally, in a week, my life could look completely different from how it does today, or maybe it'll look exactly the same. The reality is, I do not know. Not so long ago, this uncertainty would have sent me spiraling, panicked, and rushing to know and control the outcome. But instead, like la luna before she renews into the new moon, I have turned further inward, retreating into quiet and stillness, observing any surfacing anxiety and fears, and allowing space for transformation. It's funny. For many years of my life, birthday blues have been a thing, but I never understood why, and felt quite abnormal and ashamed by it. But now I understand that my body, naturally like the moon, travels through this lunation cycle where forces of destruction, healing, and creation occur to reborn itself anew. 

Trusting the mystery of the unknown means relaxing into the dark moon seasons of my life, which can be as short as a few days and weeks or as long as a few years. It means surrendering to what arises. It means believing that the mystery, however it unfolds is going to take care of me because whatever happens happens exactly for me. It means letting go and allowing the darkness of what I cannot know, cannot see, and cannot yet feel, freely shed its light. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Year of Dana

Last October, I went to a powerfully intuitive reiki practitioner, looking for a cleanse and realignment of the energy centers in my body. I needed her help to deal with my divorce grief. I had no idea what to expect, but walked away feeling upright, lighter, and energetic. Days after my second reiki, while sitting in meditation, I experienced an intimate moment of gratitude for someone I love deeply. Within minutes, I felt a rush of clarity and energy in my body. Just like that, the idea of living A Year of Dana came to me. After a few months of feeling the continuous energy of this idea in my heart and body, I finally decided to give notice to my employer. I am leaving my job of five years on April 3, 2020. Over the next year, I will be living A Year of Dana , focused on the practice of generosity towards myself and others. I will practice generosity through cultivating a heartset and mindset of abundance and dismantling my own mental conditioning around scarcity. My h
Read more

The Fear Series: I am too much to be loved

Image
Shoreline at Point Reyes Feeling.  Feeling has been my greatest power, yet my greatest source of suffering. I've been deeply sensitive since I was a small person. As a power, my feelings have enabled me as a natural empath who can pick up on nuanced, interpersonal dynamics and effectively support people emotionally. As a source of suffering, my feelings, left unseen, cause me to be unnecessarily defensive, difficult, and self-loathing. To deal with them, I tend to feel quickly, "process" quickly, and show it quickly. Part of the quick pace has been conditioned by my family.  My feelings represented weakness, disrespect, and a lack of gratitude. They needed to disappear as quickly as they came.  How could you be crying? What is there to cry about? We love you, we feed you, we house you, and we keep you physically safe. You're in America! It's not like you fled war! Save your tears for something worth crying for.  So, you might be thinking, well at least you can fee
Read more

You failed at your marriage

My mom said to me, you failed at your marriage.  It was unexpected. My mind didn't really register her words but my body started to react. I noticed some physical sensation but instead of pausing to let my mind catch up, I quickly moved into an intellectual response. I explained to my mom,  Ma, it's not really about success or failure. A lot of people stay in unhappy marriages and treat each other poorly. If you're seeing it from that lens, you wouldn't call that a successful marriage, would you? I didn't fail though. I loved and I learned. This is just life.  Somehow, I thought reframing would help. But it didn't. She said some things in return, but I was in such shock by her words that I don't recall the rest of the conversation. We hung up. She had no idea the impact of her words. I didn't either. I had to rush out of my place to catch Bart to the city. I started texting one of my best friends sharing what my mom said. My friend was in disbelief
Read more