working the lunar cycle
again
I am working the lunar cycle again.
I always do well when I remember to do it; but often, sometimes for months, I forget to align myself with the rhythms of the moon.
Before we go any further, let me define “working the lunar cycle”. It has little to do with crystals and notebooks and more to do with an awakened presence in relation to the moon.
When I say I am working the lunar cycle, it means…
I am paying attention to the phases of the moon,
I am paying attention to the astrological aspects in the sky,
I am paying attention to the general vibe of the collective,
I am paying attention to the way my abilities and energies are flowing, and
I am aligning, centering and syncing my actions (and my stillness) to the dancing rhythm of all those things.
We can see that the word “working” isn’t exactly right, but all the alternatives - playing the lunar cycle, celebrating the lunar cycle, observing the lunar cycle - sound too soft and don’t reflect the intense co-creative nature of this practice.
Working the lunar cycle is relational and we keep ourselves in relation with the moon by responding to her wisdom and energies with our inspired action.
Which brings me to ANOTHER THING I LOVE about the lunar cycle - it is just 28 days long. The whole cycle starts again on the 29th day. Within that 28 day cycle there are times when it is easier to let go and times when you can get a lot done. The brevity of the cycle itself keeps everything simple and forgiving. For instance, if you miss a phase - great time for this or that -don’t worry, in less than 28 days, you’ll get another chance. And, then, 28 days after that - another chance!
Working the lunar cycle also really helps us key in on what is going on here on earth. For instance, for this upcoming new moon - a partial solar eclipse in Aries - I am working with themes of peace and how to re-invigorate ourselves (and one another), even in these hard times.
I can see by looking:
the current moon-wane phase of the moon (sad! hard! psychologically down! the tide is out and you can see all the psychic debris!) and
where we are in the astrological year (at the end of the end! just stepping across the threshold of the beginning of the beginning) and
the surprise aspect of eclipses in general that this is a good time to actively rest and envision peace as part of our future.
In an effort to “show, not tell” how we can work the lunar cycle, I just made a new wing in our brand new library. Join me there, in the new Lunar Library wing, where I’ll offer a video just before every new and full moon; and maybe some extra little treats in there as well.
Because I plan on going deep on certain topics, these Lunar Library videos will only be available in the membership area of my site and won’t be on YouTube or similar.
I always remember to work with the moon when things aren’t exactly flowing. This is a very difficult time for everyone and everything in the collective. This makes me remember to work with the moon - for it has given me superpowers and super-wisdom in the past. It has also shown me important perspectives beyond my own.
And, I’ve been wanting to share expansive spiritual concepts with you in a more tender way; as I was able to when I mostly taught in-person events.
And, I’ve been wanting to work in the medium of video more.
So, clearly, all signs point to a Lunar Library space where we are working the lunar cycle in tune with the moon and each other.
In this way, I hope I can “body double” with you all and keep us all dancing and living in time with something cosmic - that reflective moon, Earth’s only natural satellite, orbiting this planet faithfully for 4.5 billion years.
I am pretty pleased with our first video for the upcoming new moon - 3:57am, March 29, L.A. time. I just put it into the Lunar Library where you can watch it any time you like up to and around the time of the new moon.
The Lunar Library is included with membership to the new Library - think of it as a newly added wing to that space. This member’s space is for people who really want to weave more magical experiences into their daily lives; and you can join here for $10/month or $100/year.
Let’s work with the moon and see what we can do…
Until next time,
Jess
"I think of myself in the oral tradition--as a troubadour, a village tale-teller, the man in the shadows of a campfire. That's the way I'd like to be remembered--as a storyteller.”
—Louis L’Amour
“Gathering all this together, what I’m suggesting is that we take a protective stance toward ourselves, each other, and whatever is left of being human - including our alliances that sustain and surprise us. I’m suggesting that we protect our spaces and our time for non-instrumental, noncommercial activity and thought, for maintenance, for care, for conviviality. And I’m suggesting that we fiercely protect our human animality against all technologies that actively ignore and disdain the body, the bodies of other beings, and the body of the landscape that we inhabit.
…
Of course, such a solution isn’t good for business, nor can it be considered particularly innovative. But in the long meantime, as I sit in the deep bowl of the Rose Garden, surrounded by various human and nonhuman bodies, inhabiting a reality interwoven by myriad bodily sensitivities besides my own - indeed, the very boundaries of my own body overcome by the smell of jasmine and just-ripening blackberry - I look down at my phone and wonder if it isn’t in its own kind of sensory-deprivation chamber. That tiny, glowing world of metrics cannot compare to this one, which speaks to me instead in breezes, light and shadow, and the unruly, indescribable detail of the real.”
- Jenny Odell, How to Do Nothing
What I like about the trees is how
They do not talk about the failure of their parents
And what I like about the grasses is that
They are not grasses in recovery
And what I like about the flowers is
That they are not flowers in need of empowerment or validation. They sway
Upon their thorny stems
As if whatever was about to happen next tonight
was sure to be completely interesting
- Tony Hoagland
Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice. You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.
Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the
conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.
- David Whyte
I like my body when I’m in the woods
and I forget my body. I forget that arms,
that legs, that nose. I forget that waist,
that nerve, that skin. And I aspen. I mountain.
I river. I stone. I leaf. I path. I flower.
I like when I evergreen, current and berry.
I like when I mushroom, avalanche, cliff.
And everything is yes then, and everything
new: wild iris, duff, waterfall, dew.
-ROSEMARY WAHTOLA
When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, "Stay awhile."
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, "It's simple," they say,
"and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine."
- Mary Oliver
DRINKING ALONE IN THE MOONLIGHT
Beneath the blossoms with a pot of wine,
No friends at hand, so I poured alone;
I raised my cup to invite the moon,
Turned to my shadow, and we became three.
Now the moon had never learned about drinking,
And my shadow had merely followed my form,
But I quickly made friends with the moon and my shadow;
To find pleasure in life, make the most of the spring.
Whenever I sang, the moon swayed with me;
Whenever I danced, my shadow went wild.
Drinking, we shared our enjoyment together;
Drunk, then each went off on his own.
But forever agreed on dispassionate revels,
We promised to meet in the far Milky Way.
Li Po
The soul, like the moon,
is new, and always new again.
And I have seen the ocean
continuously creating.
Since I scoured my mind
and my body, I too, Lalla
am new, each moment new.
My teacher told me one thing,
Live in the soul.
When that was so,
I began to go naked,
and dance.
—Lal Ded, 14th century, Kashmir. Translated by Coleman Barks
“Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.”
-Buddha
Wonderful! I do the same: return to lunar work when things feel challenging. Thanks for the reminder 💗