New Moon, Early Scorpio
When I walk Fred in morning darkness the long grasses rustle against each other. Their dryness sounds like lost colours. Crickets are silent. The birds are gone. It is the season of my birth.
Part of my birthday ritual each year is to reflect upon what is past, burning as much residual karma as possible. When I turned 40, I spent almost a month in front of the fireplace scribbling about shame and its painful source then watching flames consume photos. They were symbols of – triggers to – a “me” who felt awful. Why was I holding onto memorabilia that hurt me? I treasure photographs but learned, finally, to discern what was worth keeping. (Someday when I’m more enlightened I may burn all attachments but that time is not yet.)
…I digress. Around the time of each birthday I reflect on what is past, let go, and set intentions for the year to come. This year the moon waned to a sliver on my birthday – a time of placing intentions into the dark void. I’ve been working a lot with the moon in recent years. Grandmother moon, with all her creative power, beams a gentle love upon me whenever I see her. When I ask, she answers.
Some years, my intentions are very clear. “40”, for example, was about amending all the ways I’d failed myself. This year, with so many transitions, challenges, and triumphs, I had little idea where to laser my energy.
I breathed deeply, across my chest and down into my belly. I exhaled in the reverse order, contemplating the question of a year’s guiding principle. What is most prudent to focus on this year? I inhaled again, another reverse breath for vitality, gazing at the moon and smiling softly. If I were using words to communicate with that celestial body, they may have been, “Whaddaya think, Grandmother?”
Yin World, said the slim crescent of moon. It was like the whisper of a benevolent parent at bedtime. Simple, loving, easy to understand.
“You’re right,” I agreed. “Yin World.” I felt it in my bones. While my doggy’s little nails clipped the pavement impatiently and strangers (my neighbours) drove to work in a steady stream, the moon and I considered a world where we connect with one another and the essence of who each of us is, truly.
Yin: quiet, cool, creative, receptive. There is a kindness and nourishment in yin…and a whole cosmos of potentiality. What do you wish to create? I’m aiming for inspiration, kindness, genuine connection, and a shift in global consciousness.
Yin World. What’s that even mean? I’m going to be doing a lot of writing about Yin World as the year goes on. It’s already threaded into my work – “Community is Key” – you know you’ve heard me say it. My next book is on creativity. I care about supporting individuals in taking action toward what they believe in. It matters that we grow quiet and attune to whispers of truth from within.
While it’s true that taking action is yang, it can be tempered by yin. We can offer simple actions to shift the world towards a more unitive, caring, accepting, creative place. Lots of my posts in the upcoming year will offer concrete, fun, heart-warming ways to weave a world of compassion and kindness.
So, in the spirit of my solar return, with a mind set to clarity (satya) and a heart set to open (yoga/unity with others) I’m employing the power of yin to change the world. Are you with me?