We all seek the hidden shelter of the Lunar Realm sometimes in our lives.
When we just want to take a moonlit walk all by ourselves to chill out, when worries unsettle our minds, or merely when we want to get outside under an entrancingly full moon - pulled out of our beds by the beauteous light falling in o n us through an open window, when our senses are drawn into the glamorous aspect of a lunar spell, we long to walk with the moon.
The bewitching quality of that quicksilvery light gives us the flipside of life - the female qualities at their highest - not the cheerleadery cheerfulness of girls-next-door, but the haunted and seductive quality of les femmes fatales.
Everyone take refuge here. And even sunny people are enthralled by the moonlight.
Aside from the adoration of her beauty, there are other times when only the Lunar Realm can understand.
In times of trouble, the cycles of the closest heavenly body shed their healing rays on us.
We all grieve for losses. Not o nly for the loss of life, but for other losses we grieve. For even trivial losses, the mourning can be assuaged by the beautiful moon, but when loved o nes have died, sleepless nights compel one into the moon's world.
The walk with the moon that grievers take on their lonely sleepless vigils is sometimes the greatest of consolations.
The closeness one feels to his or her own soul during this sad sojourn is truly the silvery lining in the grief process.
Closeness with the Diety is harder to maintain in times of the trying of faith, but one finds that in self-communion = for so often the ones around you will be asleep while your grief will make your eyes fly open as the ravages of loss take their toll on your rest - and in gazing at the night-sky sometimes comfort is found.
The grief cycle - lunar phases and seasonal changes will take on new dimension as you count the time you roll away from the lost loved one - on the last full moon, he or she and I spoke of I remember that Spring day when we went to - I'd give anything to be riding on that sled downhill, both of us riding together, in that huge snowfall that winter when we - I can still taste the salt-water and smell the acrid little boy smell on his hair as the hot sun beamed down on us as we wrestled to stay on the floatie - and now it's been twelve days and seven and a half hours since that last breath left.
These counting times - during the precious grabs at memories you'll
be flooded with deeply sensory replays of every time you'd ever spent
with that person - hold o nto them - savor them and write them
down - during this raw time, when you've been shoved under an
arctic sea and are struggling just to maintain not your equilibrium -
that's gone - but just to stay alive, to barely function -
during this frightening time, those spell-bindingly pure memories are one of the greatest gifts you'll have of the universe which has seemingly decided to crush you.
You feel so alienated.
The moon shines down on you in pity.
You now feel betrayed by the sun.
You're not one of the lucky ones.
You've been persecuted. And worse - the one you adored was.
And possibly tortured by a disease while you prayed and ranted and swore and made oaths if only he'd be spared-
And now you're set apart.
A night creature.
You'd howl at the moon - for the moon - if only you were
even more alone.
The bestial rage builds and then wanes again as you sigh and sink ever deeper into despondency, into despair.
And then it waxes again. Then wanes.
You feel different.
You feel like attacking a sales clerk sometimes and instead, burst into tears
right there in public.
Sometimes you cry full out while driving in the car.
Your dreams punish you further.
You're o ne of the lost ones now. The moon smiles on castaways.
Children of the night are full of sorrow.
The lunar realm, though, has a glamour that the daytime can never grant.
This closeness of the soul - deepening of feelings - even delving
into - yes, -lunacy - is all a part of harrowing of your soul
- I suppose to tenderize it for one day being granted entry into a further place - or is it mindless threshing ? thrashing ? a lashing from the divine?
We don't know, but this widening of experience is one that we all must
The moon is your guide during this time, because it - unlike your loved
one or unlike God, you feel - is there for you.
The moon - romantic - covers all in the most beautiful white
light - it silverizes - tranquilizes. It coats and bestows a quieter
type of light.
In times immemorial the moon has stood for the more subtle feminine powers, for the mate of the sun.
The office of compassion was attributed to lunar realms and of beauty.
One day joy will open to you again. Until then, allow the moon to be your
guide and enjoy - not quite the word, but more like savor - the
sad ride to the soul's inside, while you hide.
See Soular Realm also.