by Angeliska on July 4, 2012
This month’s full moon falls into my own sign, Capricorn – and has brought with it a cornucopia of Saturnine horrors: disintegration, separation, and yet more loss. Once again, the rug has been pulled out from under me, and I’m forced to question everything I know about my life, about my vision for the future. The bright moon gets tangled in the gnarled fingers of an old oak before she makes her way over the hill to burn away all my fear, all my doubt. Well – some of it at least. What can I do but surrender? Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like a bitch. Oh, it really does. So, I’m not going to go into detail about what all is occurring in my life here, or how this cruel Capricorn moon has been manifesting for me personally, but instead try and relate what I’ve been attempting to put my focus on as I endeavor to endure all this upheaval: how to make it through each day in the best way possible. I’ve been thinking about the concept of self care a lot lately. It’s something I talk to my clients and friends about often, and yet, sometimes it’s tricky to remember your own advice. Perhaps by writing it out and sharing it here, I can resolve to listen to my own words, and take good care of myself.
I mean. It’s something I’ve been working on for awhile, actually – and I think I do alright for the most part, at least as far as the physical aspects go. The mental and emotional, maybe less so. It’s about the stories we tell ourselves: about how we are lost, ruined, destroyed. Even if it might feel true, we’re stronger than that, right? My teachers and mentors have been reminding me to be gentle and nurturing to myself. It’s something I’ve been trying to learn: to mother myself in lieu of the mother I lost. I feed myself a nice dinner, I brush my teeth, I put on pajamas, I read a bedtime story, I tuck myself into bed. No, it’s not the same, but it’s what I’ve got. It takes a lot of patience to nurture yourself like you would a young plant, or a small child. Would you reprimand that plant for not growing fast enough, or that child for not learning quickly enough? Would you be mean to a little baby for crying, for being weak? No. Yet we do this to ourselves all too often. I’ve been working on being better at crying, at letting it out when I feel it. It took me years to learn how to do this. One of my teachers always tells me, “Cry when you feel like crying. Don’t be afraid to let it out, to make a noise. Give your grief a sound.” I’ve been getting a lot of practice in, lately.
Something else I’ve been thinking about a lot: how many of my disappointments stem from a deep desire that erupted out of the trainwreck that was my childhood: to be taken care of. Certainly, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I have been doing so for many years. But I’m realizing more and more that many of my problems and issues come from this place of internalized neglect – and from the hope that someone could swoop in and rescue me from my life, from my sadnesses. I’ve discovered quite often lately how fruitless and unfulfilling it is to make others responsible for your own happiness. That if they don’t do this, or say that, that somehow they don’t care, or that they could affect your ability to be happy and satisfied. I’m wrestling with the concept that no one can “make” you feel a certain way – that we choose how to respond to all of the various people in our lives and the things that they say (or don’t say), and do (or don’t do). I’m also struggling with the concept that happiness is a choice that we make for ourselves – despite whatever tragic and shitty things might be happening in our lives. It’s still our responsibility to create our own sense of happiness and wellbeing. So that’s what I’m working on right now, amidst all the smoke and rubble, to find little moments and places where things are okay, even for just a minute. Another one of my teachers has been really helping me learn how all this works. He reminds me often to return my attention to my physical form. He tells me about how pain and sadness and confusion all live in the mind, and that the only way to escape them is to place yourself back into your body, by being physical – taking a walk, or doing yoga, or just being outside. Yesterday I woke up at 7am and went to one of my favorite places. I swam in cool spring water, my body slicing and arcing under the surface, propelling me forward. I floated on my back under tall cypresses and stared up at the sky through the branches. For a little while, I chose not to focus on my unhappiness, and instead on the sensation of weightlessness, mud under my feet, maidenhair ferns casting diamond droplets into my hair. Water is healing for me. Mermaid therapy. Oh, and – this mermaid just joined a gym, for the first time ever.
Here’s some things that have been making things a bit brighter lately:
I dressed up as Cleopatra and modeled for Dr. Sketchy’s life drawing session for the first time. I forgot how much I enjoy being an art model. It’s harder work than you might imagine, if you take making and holding interesting poses for the artists seriously. And I do.
A: Seven, plus Buckminster Fuller – if it’s a letter from my dear Francesca-la-la…
Friends who write you letters even though they live right down the road are the very best kind of friends.
She inscribed a very fitting poem on the back of the envelope:
“One who does what
the friend wants done
will never need a friend.
There’s a bankruptcy
that’s pure again.
The moon stays bright
when it doesn’t avoid the night.
A rose’s rarest essence
lives in the thorn.”
Here are some things that I’ve been doing for myself that have helped:
Wore my favorite red corduroy dress my mama made.
Listened to songs sung by friends in a copse of trees
down in the valley under the bright full moon.
Ate some really good cookies.
Taken some good long baths.
Bought myself fancy amber perfume.
Procured good fruits and vegetables.
Sat under a waterfall.
Encouraged a child to be brave
(and swam with her into a cave behind said waterfall!
We did it! We were not eaten by cave goblins!)
What is your concept of self-care? How has this full moon been treating you?
For further reading:
“The signal sent out by this particular Full Moon I think will be one of tough practical experiences, break ups and endings of cycles combined with deep emotion and lack of control brought about by unusual events that we were not expecting. It is asking us to take up a challenge, to act positively in the face of adversity and the big odds stacked against us. There is a positive slant though; the fact that this is a cardinal t-square, asking us to act and make the best of the situations we are facing.”
– from Solaris Astrology
I’ve been pretty impressed with Astrology Zone for accurate interpretations lately.
Here’s mine: Capricorn Horoscope for July 2012 – by Susan Miller
The Sabian Symbol for the Full Moon is: A Fire Worshipper Meditates On The Ultimate Realities Of Existence
Other names for the July Full Moon: Mead Moon, Blessing Moon, Full Hay Moon, Lightning Moon, Full Thunder Moon (big storms). Also known as the Full Buck Moon, since it’s when new antlers grow out on young bucks, with a coating of velvety fur.
TAROT: The 3 of swords followed by the Page of Cups.
Or, the 10 of Swords and the Ace of Cups.
Healing one’s self in the aftermath of great pain and loss.
Also: STARS + SHADOWS