October play

The end of October is almost here, and I haven’t written a thing to share. Not because nothing is noteworthy, but rather because what I’ve been wanting to write seems a tad too intimate and vulnerable and a tad too woo-woo. But the truth is, this is my favorite October on record. Anxiety still rears its head, and the threat of depression looms like it often does in this tenth month of the year, but this particular October the leaves are extra vibrant and the light more sparkly than I remember. Part of the October magic is due to the perfect climate conditions for color, but part I credit to the playful work I’ve been doing. Three times this week I saw some iteration of

what you did yesterday created today;
what you do today creates tomorrow.

I’d like to think that my actions and self-care rituals over the last few months are playing out now, one of which is setting intentions with the moon.

Super witchy, no?

With the new moon I set intentions for habits I want to cultivate and parts of my personality I want to grow as the moon grows big and fat into fullness.

With the full moon I set intentions for habits I want to drop and thinking patterns and grudges I want to release as the moon shrinks to invisible.

Each day I return to these intentions, and standing in front of the altar I build each fortnight, I light a candle and some incense and read the intentions aloud. Every. Single. Day.

How’s that for some magic?

Being so in tune with my intentions, I can’t help but be more aware of my behaviors and how I create my own reality with the words I choose, the company I keep and the actions I take. Decisions become easier and relationships cleaner.

Being so in tune to the moon, I can’t help but be more aware of my cycle and how my moods and energy levels change with the changing shape of this celestial tracker. Checking in with her on the pre-dawn and pitch black drive to middle school, I feel connection to (and participation with) Mother Nature like I never have before.

Being so in tune with Mother Nature, I can’t help but feel supported as the seasons change. The days are shortening furiously fast, and this year, instead of feeling the dread of winter so solidly, I am finding twinges of excitement in the cracks. I am grateful for the way the sun shifts and the light shimmers through the quivering leaves onto different spots in the house and yard like twinkle lights.

Being so in tune with the light, I can’t help but be drawn closer to the sun-based celebrations. We began celebrating the Winter Solstice at home years ago, as a call for more meaning and connection with the Earth, but this year Samhain (Sa-wen) is on my radar too, the half-way mark between the Fall Equinox and Winter Solstice. Like its cousins Halloween, All Saints’ Day and Day of the Dead, Samhain is marked by thinning veils between the land of the living and of those passed, between this reality and those unseen. It’s the season of imagination, divination and magic, the season of celebrating light and dark and the season of co-creating the reality in which we live.

All of this in-tune-ment, intentional attention and Mother Earth support is providing a sense peace that I didn’t know could co-exist with a racing heart, sweaty palms or a deep longing to spend the day in bed. I think the play with the moon and my intentions is helping me to understand the cyclical nature of all things a bit more tangibly. The light grows bright, it goes dim. Feelings arise, (and if I don’t mess with them too much) there they go. And if I focus my intention on my desires often enough, I just may create the playful world I want to inhabit.

Happy magic-making to you.

Boo!