Last week, Mother Earth asked me to transmute some dark energy bestowed upon her by my kind and I said yes. Not emphatically, but dutifully. I handed out blue post-it notes to my new neighbours, inviting them to a Full Moon & Earth Elevation ceremony on the morning of the full moon. I made mint tea from the garden and set out jars of water to charge with the collective prayers. We sang and laughed and Fox broke two cups, one glass and one plastic, which set off a series of breakages in our home which I assume has something to do with Mercury and everything to do with a shifting paradigm.
After the ceremony, Flynn, Fox and I went to ecstatic dance. I paired with three men for a group exploration and I was the first to dance in the middle. I teetered on the edge of performance and authentic expression, sensuality and safety. I shed three tears of hope as one of the men took to the centre in turn, expressing a movement so graceful, so powerful, that it defied my own notions of gender-bound expression. I could feel the rebirth of the lunar eclipse rising in us all as my body wept with salty ocean sweat.
That night I watched for the moon but the first storm in weeks rolled in and I smiled knowing that it was time to feel, not see. I stood in the energetic vortex of my backyard, held by the charged jars of water in all corners. I could feel the shift happening, within me and around me.
On Saturday, after I broke a bowl from Japan, one glass litre of ginger Kombucha and half a watermelon on the kitchen floor we decided not to go to the ocean. We went to the forest instead and after walking awhile I pulled off my top and wriggled out of my jeans and moved through the ferns with just my yellow backpack, pink sneakers and confetti socks on. Fox saw my boobs which immediately threw her into a frenzy of delight and so I carried my huge baby-toddler across my naked body, her drinking from me and me drinking from the Earth.