It’s the first Full Moon of Spring, although in many locations, this Moon arrives between the seasons. As snows melt and chlorophyll rushes up to green the grass, earthworm castings begin to appear everywhere; this draws the robins, the plump and friendliest of backyard birds. It’s a time for leaping forward and for clearing any remaining cobwebs, for releasing what doesn’t serve your future growth.
Here in Southern Oregon, the dance with our gardens now is lively and unpredictable. Nurseries and grocery stores tantalize with outdoor shelves of promising garden “starts,” baby plants just waiting to reach new ground. Yet late frosts can quickly take them away. This is a cautious Moon even as we can feel the explosion of life just around the corner. As if to punctuate this aspect of nature’s journey, the crows watch and warn with their insistent caw-caw-cawing. Pay attention!
Take note of where you are in your Full Moon transition dance. Are you preparing the ground? Or are you still in need of rest and rejuvenation? Maybe you’re fully into the great awakening, already leaning forward with new purpose. Be grateful for the authenticity and perfection of your process. You’re in exactly the right place for you now. You’ve endured a long winter of chill air and slowed activity. Perhaps you’ve discovered new ways to be more patient with yourself, to be kinder too. If you’ve been desiring a breakthrough, but haven’t received it yet, it could be just around the corner.
To celebrate your bright or gradual awakening, prepare some ground and make an offering. Give a gift to the earth of your favorite plant or tree (I’ll be planting new roses). Leave something harmless and shiny out on the grass or in the crook of a tree for Crow to discover. Get down on your knees and caress the earth. Thank her for abiding with you, for holding you up. Then offer yourself to the new brightness in the air.
New Way from the Subway
There’s an onrushing consciousness in the air,
But to engage with it and exchange with it
You need to let go of the shtick you’ve worked forever.
Know what that’s like? It’s like the moment
A subway train whooshes past you,
Sucking the air out of the station
Including the emotional gas that made you bloated.
Then you feel lighter, even giddy
As you look at your partner and say
Come on, let’s walk! Let’s walk all day.
Victoria says
Though I am not physically capable (because of disabilities) to get down on my knees and caress the earth my heart loves the suggestion of it and I will do so in spirit.
It seems that I struggle daily with feeling alone – to a great extent the reality of my life is that I am and I would be eluding myself to think otherwise. But, there are times when I am blessed with the solace and strength of peaceful acceptance by the nourishment received from words of inspiration, like:
“Be grateful for the authenticity and perfection of your process. You’re in exactly the right place for you now.”
For me, feeling inspired encourages me to discover and embrace a perception of my life as one with benefits, that can be full, even if experienced alone.
Sometimes in a quiet, empty moment I am unexpectedly touched and it is those times and my dogs that I live for. Your words spoke to me…
Thank you and blessed be, Victoria
Robert McDowell says
Hi, Victoria! Thanks for replying and sharing your insights. We can connect with the earth in many different ways. Excellent quote! I think of a Robert Penn Warren quote: “We are alone with the alone/and it is His move.” Or Her move. We are all circling through shared ends and beginnings. Blessings to you!
mary says
Southern Oregon unite!!! I’m beginning to find my tribe here after only 5 years in Selma! Thank you Robert for your insights and thank you Susanne for posting your comment. I feel less alone!
Robert McDowell says
Isn’t that a terrific feeling, the not feeling alone? Yes, we are gathering together…
Donna Fling says
Love this and the suggestions…I’ve been planting beautiful annual flowers brightening up an otherwise dreary area and feeling great joy everytime I look at it…love playing in the dirt!
Robert McDowell says
Ah, you have so much of the answer right there…in the play, in the dirt.
Blessings to you!
Susanne says
I’m in southern Oregon, too–Ashland. i bought some of those plants starts a week ago and have been protecting them from the frost. Similarly I’ve been moving towards my own “start”–finding that connection with Beingness that is still a mystery to me. As you article states, I hope “it could be just around the corner”. Thanks for your prose and poetry–I felt what you wrote.
Robert McDowell says
Thank you, Susanne. Here’s to awakening–in our gardens, and in our hearts.
Danielle says
Great article thank you. I’m ready to spring forward with great purpose. I think I was stuck in winter for the past 5 years… LOL.
Robert McDowell says
I believe I have had stretches like that, too. Thawing out in the spring is a lovely process!
Raven Dana says
I especially liked this article and enjoyed the poetry. It spoke to me…seems to be the season for poetry.
Robert McDowell says
Thank you! I bow to every season of poetry.