Will, Trust & The Nature of the Gods
That Wild Hearted Full Moon
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As we approach the big full moon in Cancer tonight at the end of this calendar year of 2020, I am aware of the multitude of emotions swirling around at the center—hopes, fears, grief, worries, longings.
Though my brain and my old patterns want me to make a plan, get ready for the new year, strategize and maybe even come up with some big goals or aspirations for this coming year... my heart knows something different. The animal nature of my body calls for something different entirely.
She—the wild one who remembers that she is born of this earth and that she will go back into this earth and that all that we ever need is right here for us, always—she nudges me to rest. To give myself permission to lay my head on the soft sweet skin of mother earth and to let go. There's a knowing in her that says that it would be premature and purely an act of my will (a will that oftentimes arises from some sort of old or distant fear) to forge ahead with my plans and my agenda.
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I've been through a lot in my life. I've survived several near death experiences—almost drowning in a kayaking accident, being stalked by a big black bear, getting into a roll over car accident in a blizzard, sustaining a high level spinal cord injury and head injury—as well as big scares of being mugged at gunpoint and being robbed, surviving heart break, and old childhood trauma.
I recount this not to garner attention or pity. More so because I'm recognizing that what I've learned and gotten good at is how to survive. I think probably many of us have. We've had to come face to face with some of our biggest fears. We've taught ourselves that we have a will of steel, and that we can try really fucking hard when we put our minds to it. And that when we do, we can muster the strength we need to overcome extreme adversity.
But what I'm coming face to face with now—here, in my 40th year, this beautifully challenging year of 2020—is that what's more terrifying and difficult than all of that is learning how to let go and trust.
What takes more courage for me than all of the survival is learning how to surrender. Yes, I've developed a will of steel. But the shadow side of that is that I forge ahead with my plans and my agenda as I believe will keep me safe without creating any space for the will of nature or the great mystery to get in there and help guide me. The shadow side is that I inadvertently and subconsciously take on the seat of the gods, assuming I know what's best or how to proceed in my life.
“The real treasure of life, the one difficult to find and hard to attain, is never far from us. That’s an unwritten rule on this earth. What we desperately desire and need most is buried in the recesses of our innermost being all along. This is the open secret found in many traditions and told in many ways. Yet it remains a secret because trusting in oneself remains one of the hardest things to do in life.”
But as I'm learning to see this in myself, I'm experimenting with listening more to that great mysterious force that created the universe and the solar system and the moon's cycles and this insanely magnificent human body I get to be in. I'm trying little bits of turning over my will to the great mystery, trying to trust that there might be innate and perfect wisdom in the natural flow of life within me and all around me. And that includes trusting in the perfection of this year—the virus, the isolation, the chaotic politics and divided country. It means trusting that all is right where it should be—that nothing is wrong or out of place. That doesn't mean I don't have dreams or visions of a possibly different future, but that I trust that I and everyone else are right where we need to be in this moment in time.
This full moon in Cancer asks us to slow down and to just be where we are, feeling what we feel. And I find that, for me, turning my will over to that greater mystery has me doing that very same thing. Slowing down and surrendering. Allowing the space that is actually there in abundance to not be filled needlessly with social media and netflix, but letting it wrap around me like a blanket as I actually feel the deep well of my fears and my grief.
There's a knowing in my bones that feeling these feelings IS coming into contact with the great mystery of the universe. It is acknowledging and respecting and bowing down to that mystery that infuses all things—including my heart. And slowing down to feel the earth and the great ocean of my heart might just illuminate something surprising and magnificent that I otherwise would have missed had I forged ahead with whatever my brain might have cooked up.
At this sweet and raw ending of a very memorable calendar year, may you find softness with yourself and the ways you've learned to survive, and may this full Cancer moon wrap you up as the great mother would gently whispering in your ear that she's got you, that there is no need to hurry or solve or fix, that you are right where you need be, and that everything is unfolding in its exact proper time.