A Walk Beneath the Moon

I don't know much about astrology.

I couldn't tell you which planet is doing what or whether Mercury is behaving itself this week.

What I do know is that sometimes I step outside after dark, look up at the moon, and immediately feel smaller in the best possible way.

The moon has a way of reminding me that life is happening on a scale much larger than my to-do list.

The dishes can wait.

The email can wait.

The problem I've been carrying around all day suddenly doesn't feel quite so heavy.

Not because it disappears.

But because I remember I am part of something larger than it.

The moon has watched every version of me.

The frightened one.

The hopeful one.

The grieving one.

The healing one.

The woman who thought she needed to have everything figured out before she could begin.

And somehow it keeps showing up anyway.

Waxing.

Waning.

Returning.

Never rushing.

Never apologizing for changing.

There is comfort in that.

Especially in seasons when we are changing too.

The Ritual

Step outside after sunset.

Leave your phone inside if you can.

Find the moon.

Or simply find the night sky.

Stand still for a moment.

Take three slow breaths.

Then ask yourself:

What season am I in right now?

Not the season on the calendar.

Your season.

The one your heart is living through.

Listen without forcing an answer.

When you're ready, place your hand over your heart and say:

I trust the season I am in.

I do not need to rush what is unfolding.

Then turn toward home.

Reflection Prompt

What is this season of my life trying to teach me?

Affirmation

I trust the rhythm of becoming.