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.