Our Mother, Our Mentor
We perform our dance inside the influence of this wonderful teacher. Every step and turn affected by her cycle and spin. No one can escape this eternal protector, but who'd want to be released from her maternal care?
By many she's called Mama Luna. Ancient Andeans knew her as
Mama Quilla. Norse wisefolk changed the gender of this heavenly body, donned with the name Mani, being chased across the sky by a ferocious wolf. The European; Man in the Moon.
Examples of her gracious phases caused a 30,000 year old dawning of awareness for our paleolithic cousins. That very concept of life, death and rebirth, instilled a new hope in the world of mankind.
Early us, we were in awe of our female's monthly menses, but still surviving. We gave total revelry and credence to this figure head, our powerful Goddess. Our every surge and flow of fluids, fluids of the planet for that matter, gave us a security in this clocklike fashion. Every 28 days.
Consider the few moonlightless days at the beginning of this wonderful cycle as a journey through those dark and velvety regions of ourselves. Reflecting and swimming in that subconscious soup, to return with answers and secrets. Then, rejoicing when we experience the first glimpse of her silver sliver crescent beauty, flooding us with lessons of rebirth and transition.
Early neolithic ancestors, with their agricultural designs, noted this moonbeam clock, designating certain duties and habits with her allegoric rhythms.
During the waxing time, we plant seeds that grow above the ground. Contemplate birth. Begin projects that will flouish with each passing day as she swells in her pregnance. Build. Construct. Venture. The advent of creative magic and spell casting finds it's favor during this time.
Ah, full, fullness. Be there during this elaborate appearance for it only lasts less than a milisecond. The gates are thrown open, her power is at our finger tips. Activate silver and moonstone. Even wolfmen and wolfwomen will be affected with unfettered reaction. Ah .... wooo.
During the waning time, with it's reduction of light and caressing of the shadowland, we should plant root crops. Know of things that exist below the ground. Cleanse and finish. Contemplate death and it's place in the grand plan. Destructive and reduction magic and spellworks find their favor here.
Her gifts are ours. We are her children, existing inside of every orbital whim. We are guarded and protected. There is security in our awareness and the assurance of her nightly return. Look at the Moon!
Photo by Jeff Hasenau