This whole time things moves strangely for me these days, both ludicrously fast and ever so slowly. I'm not entirely sure if this is from having a young child or because I'm learning to be more present and have all but unplugged from technology (who has time for that stuff with a 6 month old?), but it's fucking weird. :)
There's been an entire month since the last time I sat down and wrote, but it feels like I wrote last week. It's been 6.5 months since I first met my son, but I feel like I've known him a whole lot longer than that. And also, like I held him for the very first time, when he was 13 lbs lighter than he is now. Time, you're a tricky wench.
Moons wax and grow to swollen, then wane and go dark and I've not done a stellar job of observing them for a while. I haven't seen a full moon since the super moon on the weekend I went in to labor, not because I haven't gone outside (I get super antsy around full moon, so can't really miss her) but because there have been clouds every single time. Last night I went out, but again, clouds. It's the strangest thing and maddening in a way, but like so many things lately, I just have to let go and let things do what they will.
Orion at 1 week old helping Joe brew beer (top) and at 6 months (bottom)
Even if that's incredibly hard sometimes.
My practices have softened and shifted, I take a few moments each day at the altar, to pull a card, to look deeply in to the depths of a black cup of tea, to throw my eyes skyward and watch the family of crows that moved in wheel over head. I notice more, even as I practice and do the Work, less. Vulture stood tall on a pole, spreading his mighty wings today just as I went by. A few weeks back, a huge red shouldered hawk swooped from the tree in my front yard, flapped his wings twice in the few foot distance between myself and my front door before flying over my neighbors roof and away. The small birds of Winter scratch in the hedge outside of my bedroom window, chattering to each other while I lay with Orion while he naps.
It's always birds with me.
Soon the altar will need to be put up or moved, out of reach of little hands that will be grasping and pulling up before I even realize it. And I will observe my spirituality in other ways, in smaller altars and magic spaces tucked around the house or find it in the simplicity of my breath, as I use it to come back fully in to my body and out of my mind; if only for a few seconds. There's magic in the medicine bag between my breasts, in the stones friends I tuck in to pockets or turn in to jewelry, in the curvature and stretch of the body I've so rarely appreciated as it flows through a yoga class. And one day, the altar will be put back out, when little fingers know not to eat mom's stone helpers or man handle the bones which she keeps.
This past month has been one of growing and healing, of triumphantly going out on a limb and feeling like flying, and it's also been one of falling back to Earth on molten wings, of skinned knees and feelings of failure, shame and old hurts. But I dust myself off and keep going, because gods dammit, I am worth it and I deserve it. This month will be better, and next month better still.
Onwards and upwards, right? :)