It’s Spring! When the swallows return to San Juan Capistrano–except these birds no longer visit the Capistrano Mission on the first day of Spring. Urban development around the Mission has driven out the tasty insects that swallows love, so the birds have gone elsewhere. Tourists now flock to the town instead; they party without the swallows. One of California’s most celebrated rites of Spring has lost its authentic connection to wild nature. I take this as a cautionary tale for Moon work as well, especially in the blogosphere, where the Moon doesn’t literally shine.
At MoonCircles we honor the fabled Moon just as the Capistrano Mission still honors its swallows. We hope we inspire a good celebration each month. And we hope that, just as the Capistrano tourists may be inspired to head out for the wild lands and locate real swallows after the party, our readers will likewise be moved touch the unfolding, living textures of each Moon cycle. This real-time real-life connection is the most important part of Moon work and the hardest part to share. Whatever I might think or write about a particular New Moon, the actual experience of it will always include something new. It’s this continual surprise that makes me feel most connected to the Moon and her abiding lessons of change.
So of all the Moon practices I keep, this is the most important one: to continue seeking real nourishment from the Moon, instead of just resting in what I already know. If at the New Moon I forget to light a candle or weave a meditation of relevant imagery, I’m still alert to the living texture of this Moon time. I look forward to that moment two weeks from now, when the Full Moon comes, and I’ll reach a simple, unexpected revelation. My Full Moon enlightenments are often as subtle as moonlight itself, and easy to miss if my senses weren’t tuned. When the cycle begins again at the next New Moon, I will wonder again at what mystery is unfolding. This is the tasty meal that is still being served by the Moon.