February Full Moon

This full moon, there was a beautiful full lunar eclipse. The night sky was clear, and we always have a beautiful view of the moon from our south-facing house. We all went out several times to watch the eclipse progress and let S stay up a bit late to see it begin. It was bitterly cold, so we never stayed out long.

In the early stages of the eclipse I did searches on the 'net to find out the symbolism of lunar eclipses. Practically everything I found was negative. One can understand why. As I watched the eclipse take hold, I imagined how frightening it must have been for ancient people -- their predictable and constant friend, the moon, being consumed in a most aggressive way. I can imagine the panic that might take hold, with people pointing it out to one another with fear. I also imagine an elderly man or woman of the tribe quelling the fear, saying they have seen this before, and assuring their kin that the moon would return later that night.

But from a personal standpoint, I reject the evil connatations of lunar eclipses -- I find them facsinating and beautiful. I found other references to eclipses fortelling large changes in the world, but this didn't really speak to me either.

When the eclipse was about ten minutes shy of complete, all of the adult members of my household bundled up and went outside to watch it end. As the moon disappeared, I poured a libation of red wine on the ground to the Goddess in all of her varied forms. All of us then drank from the cup before I offerred the rest to the Goddess.

-Thriceraven

Imbolc

I wonder whether Imbolc will be forever marred by what happened a year ago.

I have been thinking about it a lot lately -- more than usual, and even that is plenty. I have found myself crying over it at inoportune intervals, and even hating my job (which is going better than ever!) for its role in my decision.

But somehow, I sort of forgot about it for Imbolc. I was planning on going to a party that night and generally having a good time. I think sometimes a deep part of my psyche (or the Goddess, which are probably one and the same) purposely make me forget things in order to bring them up again at a more psychically important moment, and when I am least ready for them.

I was at work on the Saturday afternoon, hurriedly processing stuff so I could be done in time for the party. I was idly thinking about what the party would be like, what clothes I should put my son in, and whether I should try to do a ritual after the party, or whether I should just enjoy the company of friends to celebrate the day. I was also listening to one of my favourite podcasts, called the Irish and Celtic Music podcast.

I always love when this podcast comes up on my iPod. The music always makes me feel good, and occasionally makes me cry. (Yes, at the same time.) I heard a song I have never heard before, though I have recently Wikipedia'd it and found it is quite traditional and exists in many versions.

(And here I come to a choice: I'm not sure I'm ready to overtly talk about what happened one year ago on this blog. There are posts from around a year ago that discuss it in plain language that I have saved but never posted. I am not ashamed, only hurting, and it is difficult enough to think about, let alone to write about. I could name the songI heard, and readers would surmise what happened or assume even worse. By not naming the song, I run the risk of forgetting what I am talking about when I look back at this post in times to come. It is times like these where it is unclear who I am writing for -- myself or random readers out there. But truthfully, I doubt I will forget the song now that I have heard it -- it is burned into my memory.)

I heard the song. It made me think and it made me cry. I am still struggling with this and will be for a very long time.

Yesterday was the anniversay itself. It was a very difficult day, but my lovers and A took care of me very well. I found I was just trying to distract myself, rather than trying to work through any emotions. I feel like there just aren't any new emotions to work through -- it's just very, very hard. There were things to think about and work through at the beginning, and I had some very key and long-lasting insights. And, of course, I don't rule out other insights coming out of this experience in the future. But, for now, all the growth and insights are over now, and I am left with only sorrow. I like to try to see difficult times as growth experiences and opportunities for life's lessons to make themselves known. It is hard for me to sit back and admit that this is just hardship, plain and simple, and must just be survived.

Some day it will be all behind me, and I will have here with me what I most long for.

-Thriceraven