Moon Diving; Returning to Self Under the Full Moon

Recently, my Facebook friends and I found ourselves in a conversation about the poetry and the wonderful full moon photo Ed shared. It was a photo of one of those tempestuous night skies with clouds dancing around a full bright shiny orb that brought to mind restlessness, witches, and the archetypes that have haunted humankind for centuries. Gazing at the photo, I imagined an ancient ancestor under such a night sky marveling at the beauty of the full moon and then the fear that accompanied its disappearance; wondering where it had gone. The mysterious connection men made from the moon cycle to women as they swelled and then bled in their monthly cycle. For what reason, no one knew.
We all have our own moon stories, those sleepless nights when we rose from our beds and went outside to surrender to its pull. As a child growing up in Southern California, when that devilish desert wind, the Santa Ana, arrived on full moon nights I was convinced anything could happen. And there were moments when it did… when Donnie, the boy with Downs Syndrome who lived next door, went out to howl at the full moon in the middle of the night. There was the full moon night I spent in a ‘hotel’ in the Sertao; the arid desert backcountry in Northern Brazil. There were no beds; we slept in hammocks. Roused from sleep around midnight to a beautiful unearthly melody, I went to the window and saw a small statured Sertao cowboy on horseback appeared. He was holding a harp to the wind that stroked and plucked the strings as he cantered slowly across the desert and finally out of view. The next morning, the proprietor told me that the mysterious apparition I’d seen had lost his love when she died in childbirth. Monthly at the full moon he rode with his harp to the wind’s song in tribute to the beauty of their love.
I have to confess that some time passed where I neglected the moon and I’m not quite certain how that happened. I suspect it was because I was too absorbed in the superficial, worries, or the escape into sleep. The last two years have been an awakening back to nature. And it was that Facebook exchange that compelled me to seek deeper meaning in the archetypes, the lucid dreaming, and the intuition I find when I’m connecting with the moon.
Our conversation had taken a turn when we discovered that we’d all been awake for that full moon at approximately the same time – from West Coast to East Coast. Were we connecting intuitively I wondered. As friends, we share thoughts and feelings that reflect the current global mind shift, or as some have called it – the quiet revolution. And that revolutionary mindset has often sent us circling back to the elemental. In the course of my lifetime, I’ve had intense and odd encounters with owls. A night creature with extraordinary vision that flies silently, owl accompanies Artemis the huntress. Known to the Romans as Diana, she was solitary, androgynous, the patroness of childbirth, nature and living creatures. Suddenly, I was Artemis and with my owls on a journey; answering the Earth that’s calling for us to midwife a new relationship between us; one that’s giving birth to a new entity. One that nourishes and protects nature.
The other archetype that’s surfaced for me and is connected to the moon is Hecate. Originally seated at Zeus’s side, he became jealous of her power and cast her out into darkness. Personally, I think she was well off without Zeus looking over her shoulder and she knew it. Most see her as the crone, a witch even; a dangerous old woman – something I aspire to. Hecate holds up a lantern to light the paths for the night traveler; the person who seeks deeper meaning through soul work. Hecate appears when one is contemplating a new direction, which is what all of us are taking.
The road has stretches filled with potholes, and others that are smooth. We find ourselves climbing steep inclines, only to reach a peak and then roll or walk down a hill. Sometimes the wind is in our face, viciously tearing at our clothes. Others it’s at our back, gently moving us forward.
Always, as a quiet revolutionary, a mind shifter, one who’s seeking to plumb the depths and like Diana or Artemis bring back the wisdom that comes from the pain and the joy that lies within, I give thanks daily to all of those I meet along the way. Those who compel me to dive deeper into forgiveness and compassion and who rejoice with me as we look up and see the full moon has once again appeared.