Moon Day Musings: Monday March 21 2016 Spring Equinox

  Go ahead, breathe a deep sign, a long letting go of waiting for Life to sing in colors again, Aaaah . . . letting out our waiting for the danger point to pass. Now we know we’re going to make it! On this day Earth is in balance between dark and light. With luck, the way forward has roots tough enough to make it through to leaf and bloom and fruit this year.

What if . . . ? Do you have the will for spring if ice and snow won’t let up, if climate extremes bring your tower of expectations tumbling down? We are all challenged now to find balance between dark and light, to find a way for Life to win no matter what.

Rebirth magic: Take an egg, dye it red, deepen the color with your womb blood (or energy of your wise crone blood). Go out on the land; ask nature spirit to take your sweet sacrifice and turn it into a medicine blissing for all lands, all peoples everywhere. Bury the egg as a seed of Hope.

~Miriam Dyak, We’Moon

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Moon Day Musings: Monday March 14 2016

A long read but the best…

The world being just what it is, moving and passing through, actually alright in the long view and nothing to complain about—Even the rocks of the valley had earlier rock ancestors, a billion billion years ago, have left no howl of complaint—Neither the bee, or the first sea urchins, or the clam, or the severed paw—All sad So-Is sight of the world, right there in front of my nose as I look,—And looking at that valley in fact I also realize I have to make lunch and it wont be any different than the lunch of those olden men and besides it’ll taste good—Everything is the same, the fog says “We are fog and we fly by dissolving like ephemera,” and the leaves say “We are leaves and we jiggle in the wind, that’s all, we come and go, grow and fall”—Even the paper bags in my garbage it say “We are man-transformed paper bags made out of wood pulp, we are kinda proud of being paper bags as long as that will be possible, but we’ll be mush again with our sisters the leaves come rainy season”—The tree stumps say “We are tree stumps torn out of the ground by men, sometimes by wind, we have big tendrils full of earth that drink out of the earth”—Men say “We are men, we pull out tree stumps, we make paper bags, we think wise thoughts, we make lunch, we look around, we make a great effort to realize everything is the same”—While the sand says “We are sand, we already know” the sea says “We are always come and go, fall and plosh”—The empty blue sky of space says “All this comes back to me, then goes again, and comes back again, then goes again, and I don’t care, it still belongs to me”—The blue sky adds “Don’t call me eternity, call me God if you like, all of you talkers are in paradise: the leaf is paradise, the tree stump is paradise, the paper bag is paradise, the man is paradise, the sand is paradise, the sea is paradise, the man is paradise, the fog is paradise”

~Jack Kerouac, Big Sur, The Sea

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