Moonrise
So. At Samhain, I think it was, our leadership suggested we might want to gather (psychically if not physically) at the Full Moon for a simple ritual to call into ourselves some sacred Light.
Last night was the third month in a row that I participated.
The first time, I felt a little bit self-conscious, the language we were given sounding demanding, directive, compared to my usual language when working alone. I set up an altar in my office and did the working well after moonrise, when I could see the moon high in the sky out my windows.
It seemed to me that I did "draw down" the four elements from their quarters, as well as feeling them open as I cast the circle. It seemed to me that there was "light" in each of my chakras by the time the rite was ended. I felt vaguely connected to the others who had agreed to participate, 50 miles away in their own places.
Feeling self-conscious, I thanked the elements and released the circle.
The second time, I was more confident and more comfortable. I stood alone on the beach just before moonrise, in full dark, aware of the other solos and pairs that carefully gave each other space. Above the bluff a white skyglow gradually brightened until -- ShaZAM -- there she was, rising in all her brilliant majesty.
As soon as she was fully visible I began. This time it seemed to me that each element was listening, had perhaps been waiting with me for the gift of her Light. This time I was in another timezone and most of the others had already completed their work before the moon rose above me. At the start, I was aware of not being "simultaneous," but during the ritual I saw the space on the astral plane where we gather at our most sacred moments, felt the answering pressure against my hand, saw the faces of my kin.
Feeling grounded, centered, and filled with Light, I released the circle and set my toes in the cold Pacific before trudging back through the soft sandy dark to my car.
Last night was different yet again. A gray and rainy day with continuous overcast, a low ceiling of mist and shifting shapes but no real solidity. I hoped for moonlight but saw nothing. Realizing I might not see the moon at all, I started to do my ritual work at 4 pm, the same moment as my eastcoast kinfolks would likely be starting at their 7 pm. But there was no heart in it, and I gave it up -- perhaps I could have done something in sunlight, but in the gray overcast mistiness it seemed that darkness was essential. So after dark I went to the beach.
Just as I stepped out of the car it started to rain in earnest for the first time all day. I thought briefly about walking to the beach anyway but decided against getting soaked. I sat in my car watching the sky for a sign of light until at least a quarter hour past real moonrise. And then I began.
Even sitting in the car I could feel the elements gathering around me. This time I felt Deity present as I hadn't before, and also had more consciousness of the weirdness of 'drawing down' the God to bring the Light of the Goddess into my body. More awareness of all that is not said when Divinity is seen as only two sexes. This time I didn't see our Astral Place, didn't feel my kin around me. I put it down to the invisibility of the moon, the artificiality of the car, and went home.
In my dreams I struggled and twisted, searching for something that had been lost.
We will meet again next month. What will it be like then?
Last night was the third month in a row that I participated.
The first time, I felt a little bit self-conscious, the language we were given sounding demanding, directive, compared to my usual language when working alone. I set up an altar in my office and did the working well after moonrise, when I could see the moon high in the sky out my windows.
It seemed to me that I did "draw down" the four elements from their quarters, as well as feeling them open as I cast the circle. It seemed to me that there was "light" in each of my chakras by the time the rite was ended. I felt vaguely connected to the others who had agreed to participate, 50 miles away in their own places.
Feeling self-conscious, I thanked the elements and released the circle.
The second time, I was more confident and more comfortable. I stood alone on the beach just before moonrise, in full dark, aware of the other solos and pairs that carefully gave each other space. Above the bluff a white skyglow gradually brightened until -- ShaZAM -- there she was, rising in all her brilliant majesty.
As soon as she was fully visible I began. This time it seemed to me that each element was listening, had perhaps been waiting with me for the gift of her Light. This time I was in another timezone and most of the others had already completed their work before the moon rose above me. At the start, I was aware of not being "simultaneous," but during the ritual I saw the space on the astral plane where we gather at our most sacred moments, felt the answering pressure against my hand, saw the faces of my kin.
Feeling grounded, centered, and filled with Light, I released the circle and set my toes in the cold Pacific before trudging back through the soft sandy dark to my car.
Last night was different yet again. A gray and rainy day with continuous overcast, a low ceiling of mist and shifting shapes but no real solidity. I hoped for moonlight but saw nothing. Realizing I might not see the moon at all, I started to do my ritual work at 4 pm, the same moment as my eastcoast kinfolks would likely be starting at their 7 pm. But there was no heart in it, and I gave it up -- perhaps I could have done something in sunlight, but in the gray overcast mistiness it seemed that darkness was essential. So after dark I went to the beach.
Just as I stepped out of the car it started to rain in earnest for the first time all day. I thought briefly about walking to the beach anyway but decided against getting soaked. I sat in my car watching the sky for a sign of light until at least a quarter hour past real moonrise. And then I began.
Even sitting in the car I could feel the elements gathering around me. This time I felt Deity present as I hadn't before, and also had more consciousness of the weirdness of 'drawing down' the God to bring the Light of the Goddess into my body. More awareness of all that is not said when Divinity is seen as only two sexes. This time I didn't see our Astral Place, didn't feel my kin around me. I put it down to the invisibility of the moon, the artificiality of the car, and went home.
In my dreams I struggled and twisted, searching for something that had been lost.
We will meet again next month. What will it be like then?