Petals, this has been one hell of a month. This has, without exaggeration, been the hardest, most exhausting, most adrenal-taxing, mental-drain of a month I've ever (almost) lived through. January is generally my favorite month of the year, so it's doubly discouraging. And that's the exact word for it--discouraging. It has been one heck of a downhill slide with no brakes, too little light, and not nearly enough sleep to manage this landscape.
I have a feeling I'm not alone in this. I have a feeling this has been one universally walloping, take-no-prisoners kind of a month. And when your well-crafted, finely-honed tools are barely getting you through the days without you taking to your bed, well. All I can say is, we're almost there.
I don't think it's a coincidence that a full moon/total lunar eclipse ushers out the month. These are big, painful shifts, like the ache of a broken bone, slowly and stubbornly knitting itself together. There's nowhere to go, nothing to take that can quell that deep, dull pain from nudging you awake every time your breathing starts to settle.