A full moon is coming.
Ice cracks. A howl paces at the back of my throat. Birdsong narrates rose-flushed dawns.
A full moon is coming.
Tensions tighten. Dreams dazzle with kaleidoscopic emotionality. A strengthened sixth-sense detects the unsettling scent of warnings.
A full moon is coming.
News images of Texas grasped in frigid cold seize and split my gentle memories of Austin’s sun-softened Februaries. A Valentine arrives from Houston depicting a field of wildflowers basking in the tangerine glow of a glorious Texas sunset. In a meditation, I summon symbols from nature to assist in grounding my spirit into my body and bluebonnets spring into my third eye and weave into a floral tapestry around my auric field.
The full moon is here.
Truths erupt. Intuitive inklings are confirmed. Divine neutrality shines in a blaze of white light mirrored in the lunation.
The full moon is here magnifying the heart-wrestling struggles, the piercing truths ready to be reconciled. Repeatedly, in books and online astrology, I read that whatever situations, patterns, issues that are present at the full moon are intentionally intensified so they can be fully illuminated in consciousness.
The full moon was there when I walked up the pathway laced in moon-murmuring shadows.
I dress in red, take measured strides up the brick walk, and stay close to my breath, close to a power that reaffirms and reassures that I can meet the reality of the moment with genuine empowered presence and an acceptance that activates a clear-hearted aligned response.
Under the pearlescent spotlight of the Virgo Full Moon I see my fears, a collage of anxieties and nervousness piecing together timelines and “what ifs” that are outside my control, outside my destiny.
The full moon has come, the full moon is here, in the earthiness of Virgo, to gather me back into my embodied wholeness.
Though I continue to walk and move toward a front door that belongs to my childhood, toward a familiar house, toward unknowns and uncertainties, I inwardly stand still under the celestial stage light.
Moonbeams pour over this flickering moment in time, simultaneously revealing the tensing, energy-draining impact of my scattered fears and redirecting me to harnessing my power and reestablishing harmony.
The full moon will be there as my fears, as my intuitive prickling plummets into a pulsing outbreak of things falling apart to fall into place, and the full moon will be there as I re-center and remain in my center to ebb and flow with the fluidity of this lesson, of this particular storm.
A howl will emerge and become a throated OMM, the first sound of the Universe reverberating up to a lunation widening to witness a reclamation of wholeness, one unmoved by any external force, one that when inwardly seen blooms like bluebonnets in a Texas spring.
A full moon is here – let Her illuminate the fears and the hopes so we can choose a spaciousness that frees us to be real, honest, inclusive and grounded in this wilderness of a February.