Thirteen times four years I have had this body, now – analogous to the thirteen moons in a solar year, or 52 weeks. I was born with a moon in Aquarius, so that this last 4-year period of my life also corresponds to an Aquarius moon.
It is sometimes a great fault in me that I like things tidy, orderly and mathematically explicable, when I know damned well that life is just not like that. Look at the way I insist upon celebrating the cross-quarter Sabbats on the astronomically exact midpoint between Solstice and Equinox for example. So I have been giving a little thought to these four-year periods and what they have meant to me, so far.
This last one was fairly traumatic: three of my four canine family members were murdered by RSS Security Services, and I was emotionally betrayed by one I had thought my heart was safe with. Just goes to show that indeed, all of us who dare to love are brave. On the other hand, it was also the period when I regained my son, to a degree, after having lost him for ten years. It has been a time of learning, laden with chakra-opening lessons.
The moon before this one (hah! Capricorn!), 2003-2007, was when I acquired land for the first time: land which has permitted me to live on it-sometimes in it-and which has given me in return the surprising gift of knowledge of the consciousness of the land itself. An inestimable gift. It was in this period that I also learned to communicate with and value the lives of those non-human souls we share the Earth with. A process which continues to this day – and which precludes me from becoming a vegetarian or vegan – encompassing as it does the awareness of and communication with the plant kingdom.
If I push this moon analogy further, it means I am entering a period of Piscean moon effects, which leaves me somewhat tentatively poking the future with a long stick, almost as if I were afraid of it.
But this morning I ate Beltane Chocolate Cake for breakfast, continued the dead heading of the roses so suddenly halted by a Sister’s injection of wisdom on Saturday, loved my dogs’ shiny black and white coats and their ready grins, admired the dappling patterns of green upon the garden, picked up squashed lemons, inhaled the fragrance of freshly laundered curtains in the house, and took a brief early morning nap. Yes, you read that right – I can, and frequently do, nap at the drop of a hat: whenever, wherever.
Should I be afraid to say that life is good? Or that the palpable air of Love I walk in constantly is sweetness itself? Or that, when I’ve finished with this incarnation, I am willing and eager to put on the body once more, if only to feel the air after a thunderstorm against my skin or bow before the mystery of the Moon as She rises, in silver-blue and pearl stamped, above the trees?
Pic found at the site of the Yoga Teachers Fellowship of Southern Africa. I didn’t know there was one.