This morning the tropical rain comes down in deluges, pattering against the roof, made all the more loud for the fact that our house has jalousie windows- glass slats that never truly close, creating newfound intimacy with the outdoors. I look out from the high porch, watch the raindrops dance on the delicate white plumeria and purple orchids. My heart pitter patters, too. I am peace, all is well.
Yet I don’t entirely trust it. I am wary. I am healing. I am healing from years of living in hyper-vigilance. Never knowing when the Ego energies of fear, panic, aggression would sweep in, I learned to anticipate them. Like moving from a place that had frequent random, daily, weekly earthquakes to one that has few or none, I feel stable but have moments of unsettle. For many moons I slept with one eye open, often not fully surrendering even in sleep. When you live in a difficult situation for so long, how long does it take to let go, to heal?
Our past experiences condition and shape us, wearing grooves in our energy fields that can catch us by surprise. Yesterday, I walked into a New Age shop, excited by the thought of admiring and playing with treasures. But walking around, I felt defensive, distrustful. Some of my biggest rejections involve this kind of spiritual community, one that embraces differences, healing, spiritual consciousness, — all values I share. Yet spiritual communities are made of humans, and “spiritual” does not always equal conscious. I hurry out, wondering if I’ll ever have the lightness of heart I once had, with a tribe.
The only thing to do was sit with the feelings, acknowledge them, be with them. Then ask the question, Will I ever have that lightness of heart with friends, again? A friend I love comes to mind, then another. Of course, replies my Soul. Yes, yes.
Aquarius Moon holds learned conditioning from life experiences, and the truth-to-self energy required to release an emotional pattern. This Solar Eclipse puts us in touch with ways we have been hurt through rejection or betrayal from groups, tribes of “friends”, the ways we are different from others — and the emotional, energetic, cognitive habits we’ve developed as a result.
Sometimes we have to dissociate, or “turn off” our feelings, to cope with something prolonged, difficult and untenable. Emotional detachment allows us to function during hard times, at this, Aquarius Moon (and Moon-Uranus) excels. But later, when we find our selves going into patterns of distrust and fear that no longer match the people or situation in which we find our selves today, when we learned to detach from the depth of our pain and find we can’t feel depth of our joy… it is time to heal. Simply, sometimes our heart needs to thaw.
I listen to the rain and think of Oya, Goddess of Wind and Storms. I remember something my teacher said to me once, when I was working up the courage to tell my husband that, on no uncertain terms, we needed to move. She said, “There’s no force greater than the power of wind to stir up change.” When I took a deep breath and used my windpipes, I found the power to shift my reality entirely. Now I don’t need Oya’s strong wind, her thunderous lightening bolt of transformation, but her warm, gentle breezes, cleansing rain, grace.
I could never get warm in California. I was always unconsolably chilled, forever bundling up in layers. Here, I’m in my element: I am in a land of swaying palms, fragrant flowers, and smiling open faces. I wear less and feel more at ease in my body. John, ever the scientist, says my island girl gene mutation has started expressing. He jokes that, along with my now golden long-limbs, soon my lips will grow fuller, and I’ll develop high cheekbones.
But just because I’m in a new environment, and this is a new day, I remind myself, doesn’t mean I am here entirely. There’s more to release. I need long walks on the beach. I need to sit and journal for hours, alone. I need to feel. Like a soldier who has survived a long battle and finally come home after the war, I need to give myself the time, space, patience and compassion to do this.
This eclipse touches on parts of our self that have been out in the cold, far too long: trauma, rejection, betrayal, loss, a former way of life, of “surviving”. If, at this moment, you are feeling a little wary or shell-shocked, if you can’t quite sink into joy, or trust the hearty goodness and bounty of life, you are not alone. Now is the time to befriend your self. Be your own friend. Sit with your feelings, acknowledge and accept them. Light a candle. Grieve. Because life can be complex, sad, difficult and confusing. If you engage self-talk like, “I’ll never have (that positive feeling or thing) again…” help your self to question it, as a friend would. Go within, ask if it’s true, and listen for the real answer.
Because, friends, life is also good. May each of us be restored and healed.