Relationship with Moon

I'm thinking about my relationship with the dear Luna (the moon). It began to intensify for me the last night of the intensive in Peru when the Shaman I was working with in ceremony took me outside and said to me, "Look at the moon, look at Padreo (the sacred mountain) and be grateful." The moon was full and magnificent that night and I was full of gratitude for it and am still. Just hours later, after ceremony, some of us went back outside and the sky was covered with clouds. But still, that evening began a new journey for the moon and I without my knowing it at the time.

Several weeks later, back in Salt Lake City, my housemate at the time suggested that we start doing ceremony together. We decided on doing fire ceremony around the moon cycle. On the new moon setting intentions and on the full moon transforming the energy around things we wanted to let go of. These ceremonies were very powerful for both us, with the energy of the moon, the fire, the directions and each other. I love watching my intentions grow with the moon and feeling my energy rise as the moon becomes full and with it a longing to release.

In the city, I feel tension with the growing full moon, but as I no longer carry the burden of the city life with me, I've come to feed off this energy and accept it more fully into my heart. Living in a tent, the moon has a different energy for me as there is nothing blocking my perception of it. I am certainly more aware of it, with no other light pollution. I rarely use a headlamp on the short trek up to my tent and I feel grateful for the energy of it's light a few nights before the full moon as much as I feel gratitude when it is only a sliver and my senses are more aware as I feel my way over the rocks and through the trees.

On the most recent new moon, I was in Moab with some new friends, two brothers whom I immediately felt a connection with. I was surprised at how much I opened up to them in a very short amount of time. On the night of the new moon, it was my job to get the fire going as they were preparing dinner. As I was tending the fire, I had the idea to invite the boys to do a new moon ceremony with me. Although they come from a certain religious faith, they were both open to participating in ceremony. I felt so blessed and humbled to conduct the ceremony and it was very moving for each of us.

Now, in this community I am living in, full moon is time for women's council. Last month I sat in circle with some incredibly strong beautiful women and this council feels like the beginning of something powerful, full of love, trust and hope.

I wrote a poem when I was a teenager that I recited by heart at a Kirtan I attended recently. I changed a few of the words to fill the poem with hope and I would like to share it here.

~
The moonlight burns my eyes
As if it were the Sun
Stars wrap me up in arms
As if I'm the only one

I know a secret not spoken
The dreamer has begun
Stars wrap me up in arms
I am
The Only One

Shifting

It's interesting, showing up with grief in community. As I've said several times since my arrival to Salt Gulch, my heart just might break open here. It has. This is the space, this is the time. Grief does not come daily but regularly. I have grown to recognize the beauty in it without attaching any other name. Hiking down to a canyon the other day, I wept at it's magnificence. The sandstone walls heard my cry and the creek below received my tears. The land never rejects me. As I waded through the waters I felt alive and strong in my Self.

Last week I found myself longing for companionship. To be held in the arms of an Other, to feel a gentle touch or look that only lovers share. It's an interesting time for this to come up as I am living in a small community of eight. The greater community of Boulder town which is about twenty minutes away, doesn't leave a lot of room for romantic interest with it's booming population of two hundred. There is a special someone I share a deep connection with who is thousands of miles away. Since I do not have phone service, my case, for now at least, could easily be seen as hopeless. But hell, you never know. I honor my longing as I honor my grief. In this dry season I am learning new ways to connect with others in love.

For months now, I have had the feeling that I am moving into the next phase of my life. Since coming to the farm, this feeling has increased exponentially. The seeds that I planted (literally and figuratively) in Anza Borrego are coming to life. In order for this to take place, seeds first have to die. I was thinking about my own impending death the other day. Sounds morbid I know but I do not feel that if I were to die tomorrow, there is nothing that is going to keep me from dieing in peace. The next day, death on mind, but birth. The birth of a child, a bird, a plant. I have had a few, incredibly intense experiences in the last month or so with animal processing. Although very intense for me, these close encounters with the cycle of life have been very moving for me and played a large role in my process.  As I move into this next phase of life, I am well aware of a death of sorts taking place. The death of old ways of being and belonging to this world, saying yes and birthing my gifts as they begin to manifest. I know that some of my recent grief is intertwined with this shifting, and through that grief I am honoring the Wanderer inside of me.

Part of me feels a great need for a human mentor right now. Although I have many teachers it occurred I long for the support of someone who I can sit face to face with, who understand. At the same time, I feel I am stepping into an Elder role myself and I need to first look inside for the leader. Just as I was asking for a mentor, I had a beautiful conversation with a friend of mine at the farmers market yesterday about this shift and my gifts and she understood.

For now, the farm is my mentor, and the land my lover. Last night, I gathered around the fire with new friends, good music and food. This morning I milked Dolly the goat, one of my favorite activities. Last week, we built a beautiful cob/stone oven. I loved fitting the stone together and working with my friends. We also prepared the rest of the garden beds for planting this week. As I prepare my inner garden, I'm excited to watched the seeds grow, an apprentice to my soul.

Shedding Skin

There is so much moving through me, and so much to say. Where to begin? This past week has been especially intense and beautiful as well as exhausting. I'm amazed at how life and my inner work manifests itself. Particularly in this raw, powerful place. I spoke the other day of the serpent and shedding of skin or that which no longer serves me. There is a lot I am letting go of here, as I step deeper into my Self. Days later a friend found a dead snake. As I helped remove his skin and gut it, I was in awe of this beautiful creature, and the way it showed itself first in my inner world and then in my physical world.

I came into town tonight on a whim and met some cyclists who are traveling across the country. What an incredible journey they are on and as heard a little about there adventure a little bit of envy came up that made me laugh out loud. Am I kidding? I myself am on a journey just as incredible as theirs, here in this community and the small community of True Nature. Since arriving in town I heard about a group getting together tonight to share their favorite poems and I will hang out with that. I've been excited to feel Boulder out and feel apart of this community for the season and who knows, maybe longer. Then, just a few moments ago I ran into an old high school teacher of mine. Who knew this much could go on in just a few hours in a small town of two hundred.

Tomorrow night, I have the honor of holding council, as on the Vision Quest, but now with my fellow apprentices. We will sit in a circle, and each of us in turn, with deer antlers that serve as a talking staff, will share spontaneously and speak as well as listen from the heart. I've been wanting to hold council since the vision quest and, although I've sat in council since then, having the antlers with me all week, I feel an immense gratitude and humility that comes with such an honor.

This afternoon, after spending the day gathering food for us, I quietly walked back to the garden to spend some time with the animals. Tina Luna, the woman who lives there introduced me to the new baby chicks. I was touched by the way the nestled next to the mother and how one of them reached up to mama's beak. Mama hen seemed tired and I marveled at her commitment to her new babies, some of them not biologically hers, and also her resilience. Love in the name of Love.

Strength in Sustainability

I arrived at True Nature Farm nearly two weeks ago where I am blessed to take up residence for the next six months. My tent sits on the ridge above our small community of eight. It is a sacred spot, only yards from a grave site full of animal bones. there was fresh deer scat at the spot when I arrived. I meditated in the area and asked for permission to say and received a resounding yes. I am humbled each time I return to my new 'home'.

I am surprised by my physical strength as I work in the garden, digging new beds, lifting loaded wheel barrows, or working with the Israeli ho, which have proved to be very therapeutic. I keep expecting to wake up with the familiar ache I have come accustomed to and to my relief, it does not happen. My body, which has had a difficult time keeping up with my ever shifting Self, seems to finally be meeting up with my spirit, although I am still re-membering and learning to trust my physical being again.

In addition to learning about Permaculture and sustainability, I continue to work on personal sustainability. Weekly we have a dream tracking group and sit in council together weekly as well. I am grateful that my longing for council will be met here, in our small community at the farm and the greater community of Boulder, Utah.  This past week I was reminded of how one persons dream can affect someone else (in this case myself) on a deeply profound level.

I attempt to visit my sit spot daily but the last couple of days have been full with the garden, council, a potluck and movie in Boulder Town, a community I can easily see myself falling in love with. Right now I am sitting at the Kiva Koffehouse watching the snow dump on top of the Red Rock, full of gratitude and only slightly concerned about how my tent is holding up in the weather.

The Web of LIfe

I ended my day with my dog Sage greeting me at the door, walking into my nearly empty room that has served as my home for the last several months, with so much in my heart. Not of endings but of new beginnings.

My sixteen year old niece was upset tonight over the consequences of doing what she knew in her heart to be right. As I heard the distress in her tears I felt so proud of her. I'm reminded of the courage it takes to follow one's intuition, even if it means going against the grain, and I feel proud of myself for doing so.

I am constantly in awe of the paths that cross in this lifetime, however brief or long the encounters. I am reminded of how we touch each others souls in ways that help us to re-member, whether or not I myself or the Other realizes the depth of one such encounter. I try to remember this always as I show up in this world, and am so grateful for this web of existence. I think of this not because I am in the space of saying good-bye but because I've said hello to others with an open heart recently, and also because I've gained closure in relationships and accepted that life is full of severance.  I know in that severance we take with us piece of each other, lessons learned and love lived.

Wrapping Up

I've been back in Salt Lake City for nearly five months now. My time in Peru seems far away as I prepare for my next venture, a six month sustainability apprenticeship on an organic farm. I will work through this weekend and take next week off to prepare physically and emotionally and to rest. I'm exhausted! I love Spring but as I become more and more sensitive it's a difficult transition for me as the Earth prepares for new growth.

I speak often in the blog about manifesting, trusting and following my heart. Pattern: Once I commit to a new adventure (i.e., the farm, Peru, any commitment really) I immediately revert to, "How am I going to make this happen?" "What the hell am I thinking?" Or, my favorite, "What will I do next?" Of course, as much as I stress about the how, everything has worked out financially. Even as I've watched my savings account expand, I admit I still worry a little, I won't be bringing in any money for at least seven months. I've realized a lot of my fears around making these things happen are tied to an old belief I've had that I don't deserve the life that I want. Working on that one.

Winter, as in previous years, was a quiet time for me, a time of turning inward. I did not travel, I was not especially social. What touched me were the little nuances. Sitting with a fire under the full moon, reading my stories to a group of strangers, having a place to call home and a friend there to share more stories with. Learning to play the guitar, walking the dogs in the Foothills, playing the stranger in this city even though I've spent the majority of my adult life here. Making new friends and creating relationships with people who have were merely aquantainces before. Screaming at the top of my lungs into the darkness of the night in Big Cottonwood Canyon with a friend who'd had a rough day. Shifting, sharing and loving.

As I begin to wrap up my life here I'm aware of how different it's been than before. How I'm somehow different. I feel closure with certain ideas and beliefs or people that I've clung onto and with that closure a heaviness has lifted to be replaced with muscle and wisdom. And I've only just begun!

A co-worker and friend said to me today, "C'mon Angela, this whole farm thing, it's rehab isn't it?"

Break Open

"It can be a lonely path" a teacher said to me once as she contemplated my journey. I know that I've chosen this life of solitude, yet I've made love like there was no one else in the room. I've stood in the doorway of my own heart and allowed it to break open. I stand naked before you now, as we thaw out old stories, of heroism, of danger, of love and disguise.

My body is more full, my eyes somehow darker, in my hair, a hint of grey that I wear proudly. For behind the depth of my eyes, are the stories of my oh so beautiful life. To quote a song by Lost in the Trees, "I got love songs, I got songs that make you cry." And they're incredible songs, beautiful stories that make up my life.

I'll share some of them now, doing so with the intention of transforming them into something new and letting go of what no longer serves me. These are old stories (old meaning they happened before today;). I tell them with love and respect and with anonymity.
~
You are in the way of this for me. In the way of what is important. I am angry and this morning I did not want to look at you. Of course you were the first one I saw. I though maybe you knew. "An attraction can happen anywhere...nothing after this." I am the queen of nothing after this. I understand that I, on my own, accepted this crown. I don't know if you can see. This is stopping me up. If I'm honest with myself I know there is a reason for this and it will keep showing up until I have the courage to look.
~
Making my way slowly back to my hometown to tie up loose ends I was blessed to take a LONG pause in one of my favorite places. I was there for a one day event and ended up staying for an entire week. I had the most beautiful journey there being completely present and engulfed in every moment, without concern for tomorrow or yesterday. A love story revealed itself there. If I had not been so blinded by my unwillingness to accept love before my journey - especially romantically- I would have seen this story unfolding before I left. But it didn't occur to me that this other might be a little bit hurt that I'm leaving until much later. I love this person dearly without strings or conditions and I had pushed him away in the past and regretted it.

It was not easy for me to tell him that I was leaving and not easy for him to hear but we both seemed to know that everything is as it should be. And after three more incredible days together I walked away. But not because I'm scared or stubborn or won't let love in but because I know that I have to answer to myself right now and the shifts I have experienced recently. I did not walk away overwhelmed with grief but with a deep, deep gratitude for the time that I have spent with this person and the gifts that our relationship has brought me and will continue to bring. I feel so grateful that I was present enough to know that I needed to walk away, holding my heart gingerly in my hands and thanking it for it's strength with every step that I put between my Self and the Other.
~

I never really mean to fall in love. In fact, I've been known to fight against it. And still, I tend to show up, knowing full well how fleeting it can be. "Do you get lonely, doing what you do alone?" a friend had asked me. Sometimes. Other times it would never occur to me that I am alone. 


I felt him pull away the last couple of days. I've seen it before, I've lived it before. We only spent a short time together tonight but it was a painful hour and a half. He was sad, trying to cover it up with sarcasm and, like yesterday, looking for comfort in his status, "They want me to run for office again." 


He's escorting me to the train station tomorrow. I would rather he not and tried to talk him out of it. But he's done so much, I didn't want to offend. Neither do I want to drag out good bye. What will I say? He should know I love him. Does he want me to say I'll stay? It doesn't matter, I won't.
~
Me: How do we survive such achingly beautiful heartache?
Her: It's inextricably linked to what brings us alive.
~

It's incredible to me how having one's heart broken can break it open in such a way that love comes rushing back in. In allowing ourselves to risk such heartache, sometimes time and time again, we embrace such love, a love that is bigger than all of our love songs.

Yup, I get lonely sometimes. It's hard for me to admit this and even more difficult to give my self permission to be lonely. Then I play the guitar for my friends while they sing along or have a conversation with a Magpie or climb a beautiful rock, and fall completely in love all over again.