Full Moon in Pisces – Friday, September, 13 at 12:33 am est
Everything is in the story. Stories that change and form you are the chapters. Love and pain are equally powerful for each contain the other. There is a painter I know in Margaretville, whose work takes the skin off things, setting energy free. Chaos. Unfamiliar shapes, foreshorten, lengthen, twisting brutally, curving gently, bursting through space and time. This is what pure feeling looks like.
Paul Muad'dib says fear is a mind killer. Witches say where there’s fear there’s unacknowledged power. New Agers say fear is negative and creates your reality. New Age thinking is today’s Panglossian Optimism, and Pangloss was burned at the stake between the hors d'oeuvres and the entree. Hmmmm. Fear is part of life and we all have it. Sometimes fear stops us from doing things we need to do, and other times it stops us from doing things we have no business doing. I think the witches are right, if I’m afraid of doing something I know I need to do and want to do, but am too afraid to put myself out there, then I am shirking my responsibility and my power to impact my life. I am shirking because what if the result isn’t what I want and I get hurt. Again. I can’t stand being hurt. But hurt is part of life and living and trying anything new is probably going to hurt a little (or a lot). Scars are beautiful, they remind me that I have lived. The point is there is right use for all feelings and when you take the skin off remarkable shapes emerge. You’re in the current now, best swim with it.
Full moon, harvest moon, in Pisces. Feeling, mysticism; Psyche and Eros; the unconscious made conscious. Desire, wanton sexuality. Ocean energy. Unless you’re Anais Nin finding balance is not easy during this full moon. Emotional tides are way high. Don’t even bother trying to figure it out. Little red wagons are everywhere. Root in earth and feel the air on your skin. The Equinox is coming Sept 23rd, Mabon; the grape harvest, and the season of Libra. Imbalanced scales come into balance. The yin, the yang. The cock, the vagina. Essence finds its shape. The process is ALL and nostalgia is the enemy. Nostalgia is the Vaseline on the lens through which you view life. Nostalgia keeps you invested in the past and this is NOT a time to be invested in the past, especially in the areas of love and career. Dream the essence of what you want; feel it, taste it. Walk in the future of desired essence. The form will take care of itself if you stay true to essence. Full moon energy begins to wane Monday and you are changed. No, don’t go tell it on the mountain, you won't have the words anyway; better to clean our your drawers and closet. Begin preparations for the cozy of winter.
This full moon signals an ending of the old, of the last 25 years; a new cycle begins, landing you in the waters of probable possibility. A very important writer once told me alliteration was bad writing. I’ve been addicted to alliteration ever since. Long live the squirrely and Happy Esbat. Spells to know God/Goddess, and spells turning life and will over to the guidance of the ancestors/spirit guides/God/Goddess are particularly powerful. Spells for love are also well aspected, as are spells for out of the box creativity, provided you do them Friday, Saturday get away from it all, and Sunday do spells for creative success. As ever if you need more specific information book a reading.
The Fey are packing for their journey at Samhain. Put out tiny bowls of honey and butter. Clean and refill daily. Eat steamed artichokes dipped in vinaigrette made with rice vinegar; savor cheese and tomato frittatas and toasted sour dough bread. I leave you now with the Song of Amergin, translated by Robert Graves. If you can, go outside and read by candlelight (or flashlight) under the light of the full moon. If you can’t go outside, read it aloud inside by candlelight. When you're finished, close your eyes, and watch the clouds part in your third eye. There is a vision for you there.
I am wishing y'all love beyond all reason. Kat x0xx0
I am a stag: of seven tines,
I am a flood: across a plain,
I am a wind: on a deep lake,
I am a tear: the Sun lets fall,
I am a hawk: above the cliff,
I am a thorn: beneath the nail,
I am a wonder: among flowers,
I am a wizard: who but I
Sets the cool head aflame with smoke?
I am a spear: that roars for blood,
I am a salmon: in a pool,
I am a lure: from paradise,
I am a hill: where poets walk,
I am a boar: ruthless and red,
I am a breaker: threatening doom,
I am a tide: that drags to death,
I am an infant: who but I
Peeps from the unhewn dolmen, arch?
I am the womb: of every holt,
I am the blaze: on every hill,
I am the queen: of every hive,
I am the shield: for every head,
I am the tomb: of every hope.
P.S. Live loud, love fierce, and suffer no fools
Art by Karin Zeller