The moon is full and so are we…for now. 

Fullness. We feel complete —finally—in a culture that trains us to see what’s missing, what else we could have or do, that one more thing that will fill the empty places inside us. Fullness feels perfect.

I’d like to share a story here about fullness and perfection.

I had taken light for granted. before I lived on Cypress Island. 

Light is such a basic blessing, and as with most things, only appreciated when it is lost. Far from the ambient light from street lights and Seven-Elevens and airports and football fields, nights on the island were very dark indeed. 

One night, about this time of year, the moon was pregnant like it is tonight, a glowing orb, with stretch marks across her bulging belly. Full.

Isn’t that what we all want? To be full beyond measure, to give birth to what’s perfect and lovely, to shine brightly, and to have our gifts be valued? 

The Moon demonstrates so plainly, and still, often we get it wrong. 

Our culture moves to the rhythm of the Sun, not the Moon, the Masculine, not the Feminine. Yet we somehow expect the Moon to behave as the Sun does, beaming intensely in a steady beat, the same beat as industry—bang! bang! bang! bang!

But the moon moves to a different rhythm, in tune with the Soul. She is more of a poem than a to-do list. 

We have become accustomed to seeing the Moon only in print—captured, frozen in time, most often full and round and perfect—but that is not how the Moon really is. She knows she cannot be full all. the. time. 

So I invite you to witness the moon as she is, in real time. In real life. Out in the fresh, night air. Alive, active, rising, setting, waxing, waning, dark. She is the essence of the Feminine – powerfully influential—with a force so magnetic, it can turn the tide. 

Can you think of any tides that need turning? I can. 

She gives, in each moment, whatever she has to give. Sometimes that’s a glorious, enchanting fullness, but just as often it’s merely a sliver. As humans, we say, “why bother?” Yet she wanes, unapologetically. She gives to the degree that she’s been given. No excuses. No disclaimers. Sometimes even our sliver can light up someone’s world. 

And sometimes she finds herself having given all, spent, with nothing left to give. She does not run for the hills. She does not give up. She holds her course, she holds space for the return of the Light, because she knows how things come full circle. 

Instead, she focuses on receiving. Reflecting, not deflecting. Chilling, absorbing the Light, until she can give again from her abundance. 

Whether she’s full, whether she’s waning, her job is to reflect the Divine light she’s been given —no matter if anyone notices, regardless of who approves. What comes of her giving is not her business, not her work. 

As we embark on a season of conscious rituals of giving and receiving, I thought I would share what I have received from her example. 

I wish that your gifts and wisdom glow in the dark,
that you give and receive graciously,
and that you feel beloved by a constellation of bright beings, be they family, friends, or strangers. 

With Love and Light,
Constance