Deep peace of the quiet earth to you. 

September 18, 2017

I rarely pay attention to the sun, but most of us probably don't, do we? It's more or less unchanging and far too distant to do much good as deity or timepiece. Plus all that heat, that light, that (traditionally) masculine energy has always left me, at least, a bit uneasy. 

But the moon--dark, cold, changeable, and so close as to affect our blood, our mood, the tides, the sowing, the harvest... I don't know what that means; I don't know of its deeper significance, but in a world with little material left for faith, for optimism, for selflessness, well. I think this particular celestial being, so close as to have seen all the centuries of our cruelties, our weaknesses, our selfishness, and our power-grabs serves as a good sounding board, carrying our frustration and heartbreak with her, turning her face from us as she does whatever dark magic necessary to preserve our own survival. 

June 12, 2017

At this point, I just have to remember to believe in magic. It's not too difficult once you graciously (and gratefully) forget everything you've been taught and remember everything you've learned, inherited, and intuited in that space between awake and asleep. 

March 23, 2017

Because, really, aren't you (aren't we) tired of apologizing for who we are?

November 30, 2016

I've gotten really into the old science of life as guided by the moon--phases, waxing/waning, sign passing through, ascending/descending--not only in gardening and growing, which in my (simplified) definition is the basis for biodynamic cultivation, but in daily household tasks, in charting mood--hopefulness? Despair? 

You know, that sort of thing. But that's a project for another post down the line, once I have some data (what a nutty word for what I'm doing) to share with you. 

But it's got me thinking about the moon and her fixed face. That's not uncommon, so I've read, with satellites, but the moon seems so much more than mere satellite. She's a guide, a prodder of secrets, one who secrets things away, and one who exposes them. She pulls the tides, the sap, the seasons, and the water table that is the majority of our make-up. If the sun is electric, the moon is cool blue pulsation, a reverberation sometimes too low to hear, but the thrumming is always there, in the ebbing and re...

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This Quiet Earth