May 27, 2018

IMG_0031 copy.jpg

Flower Moon

The reason I gather at the full moon is to connect. I want to connect to my family, my friends, my higher purpose, the world.

I am alone in the Zenhouse most of the time. It's very nice when my sisters show up.

I need a steady pace of reminders.

I am an energy worker.

Hanna Wallis is a talented photographer & filmmaker (and so much more). We met while enrolled at the Salt Institute in Maine in 2014. We rubbed shoulders a lot, saw each other again this January, and planted a seed to hang soon.

For the full moon, Hanna visited. She brought her close friend from Spain, Mariona. Mariona is so much fun, a bright spirit. Her presence showed me a new depth of sisterhood. Elle came up from Brooklyn! Elle is so warm and forgiving. She brought her tarot magic and a steady thread of sweetness throughout the night. Anusha drifted in shortly, in perfect timing, with poetic wisdom.

We gathered for ritual. Hanna, Mariona, Elle and I mingled in the kitchen, ate some food, then we gathered in the Zenhouse. We added personal items to the altar. Hanna brought Palo Santo wood from Columbia and smudged everyone. We said the Vows of the Priestess

We closed our eyes and eased into a chakra visualization. We sat in a circle, knee to knee. Elle pulled a card for the theme of the day: Knight of Wands. We each evoked an elder. We affirmed our intentions in writing and burned them later, as an act of faith:

These words are words –great spirit guides us –we need nothing –we are a wheel –a channel -constantly conversing with the great spirit –we go forward -with or without!


I choose to walk my path fearlessly,
to live with my heart wide open,
to be grateful for my experiences
which led me straight into the arms of the goddess, and taught me compassion for all things. 

To forgive and forgive and forgive again,
while maintaining the boundaries of my own sacredness, not resisting life but allowing it to be. 

To transmute my fear and suffering into joy, and just by being,
give others permission to do the same. 

To know that everyone is a mirror reflecting the light of the goddess, all with truth at the core of their being, all unique, all beautiful,
all different aspects of her.


We went deep. We trusted each other. We told our truths. Our truths told themselves. We cried. We laughed. We laughed! We fell in love. We forgave. Forgave again. We were allowed. We did what we needed. We learned. We ate food together. We shared water bottles. We fed the fire together. We grew! Then, we returned to our worlds.

February 1, 2018

Anusha Meher

This past full moon was exhilarating! Anusha and I have this special language. An unspoken balance. An evolving admiration. For this gathering, I felt I was supposed to watch her, listen to her, do as she does. Among many things, Anusha is firstly a writer, a poet. Its apparent that her words are channelled from great source. This time, Anusha shape-shifted into a shewolf and the moons theme was about "being in-between."


We spent the early day in my dinning room with my nieces and my sister in law. Anusha finished up what she had to do, making phone calls and some work on her laptop. I painted my niece's face and her cousins too. Anusha painted a beautiful, powerful butterfly/lady on my cheek. I made a line down the bridge of her nose. As the sun fell behind the western mountain, Anusha and I stood at the backdoor, mesmerized by the layering of the colors. How the sun goes down, inch by inch. We were so comfortable, standing there, at the backdoor, between the warm house and the winter air. We leaned in opposite crevasses of the doorway, telling what we've made of our words and our thoughts. Anusha said we should go for a walk. 


We went across the street and entered the woods. Anusha said she had to make one last phone call, so she did, as we walked, separately but together, toward the stream. We arrived to a steep hill.

All throughout the woods, there are areas enclosed with rock walls made by farmers, many, many years ago. We stood on top of one rock wall. I noticed that Anusha looked up. I was looking down. Basically digging my grave, ready to lay in it. I followed her lead, and joined her in looking up. It was beautiful up there. The canopy spread into a a perfectly interesting shape to frame the sky. With a little bit of sunlight left. We heard an owl, hoot, hooting. Dogs barked in the distance. As much as I wanted them to shut up, their barks made me feel safe and protected.

Anusha closed her eyes and inhaled. I closed my eyes and inhaled. She exhaled. So I did.

We stayed here for a long time. Time we didn't keep track of. The stream was rushing, as it does this time of the year. The underground aquifers are filled to the brim from the abundance of rain and melted snow. The Winter stream widens twice its Summers width.

I wished I would have brought a musical instrument to play. Anusha suggested I sing without one. I made a beat on a tree trunk with my hands and sang one of the first songs I ever wrote.

"You're a chimer, just leaning on your friends
Such a chimer, when will the bells stop ringing
It's so
beautiful, looking out the window
It's so wonderful, hearing the wind blow on you
Chimer, just leaning on your friends
Such a chimer, when will the bells stop ringing, ringing, ringing, ringing..."

January_31_2018_ full_moon_hudson_valley.JPEG

We looked to the moon, rising over an eastern mountaintop, peaking through the clouds. There were distant lights in every direction. Behind us from the houses, up to our right were airplanes in the sky, a tower, and what appeared to be the headlights of cars turning a corner far away.

The entire night, Anusha held a book at her heart, a manuscript by her grandfather. He left it to her to complete. Her hands were freezing and so were my toes. Anusha howled farewell to the moon. I howled. The dogs heard us and howled along. It made us laugh. So we howled and howled and howled some more.