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Dreams and Full Moon

Discussion in 'Support Subforum' started by Lily Rose, Nov 18, 2013.

  1. Lily Rose

    Lily Rose Beloved Grand Eagle

    Last eve was our monthly Labyrinth Walk under the full, rising Moon.

    Your power is in the choices you make today. Your freedom and joy is in your ability to live authentically and in alignment with your core values. What you love and value is unique to you. It makes you what you are. .. Kelley Rosano

    With tobacco and cornmeal, we walked in silence, offering our gratitude and silently murmuring our prayers. The mystical garden was strung with faerie lights, and the sent of Sage wove around us.

    Gratitude and Prayers. Emotions that well up under the surface thoughts, tangling and weaving. Specific thoughts captured and sent tumbling outward to the welcoming sky.

    To all of you here, I sent my gratitude, and to all of you here ... I sent prayers of strength.

    This manifested in dreams that both frightened and embolden me. Dreams of a tall prison building, and grand escape plans by the inhabitants. There were deaths, injuries, and finally ... escape. When I was able to view each person, beneath their illusions, I saw they were really Horses. I wept grief at the deaths, I tended the injuries, and I wept again, this time with joy, at the escapes. Tears became a river, the tears of sorrow and tears of such release.

    Upon awakening, I felt ... overwhelmed. The Horse, for those who seek meaning in dreams, is the symbol of freedom and power. It has been awhile since the mighty horse has visited my dreams.

    Part of me is afraid, and clinging. Pain is so very much a part of my identity. It keeps me grounded and aware and empathetic to the pain of others. If the pain ceases, will I forget? I know these fears are manufactured as another form of diversion. I know.

    We are all on a journey to escape our prisons, to become mighty like the Horse.

    I am afraid, but I am strong.

    This sub-forum is labeled Support. A place to ask for support. A place to offer support.

    I offer this poem by William Ernest Henly:


    Out of the night that covers me,
    Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
    I thank whatever gods may be
    For my unconquerable soul.

    In the fell clutch of circumstance
    I have not winced nor cried aloud.
    Under the bludgeonings of chance
    My head is bloody, but unbowed.

    Beyond this place of wrath and tears
    Looms but the Horror of the shade,
    And yet the menace of the years
    Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

    It matters not how strait the gate,
    How charged with punishments the scroll.
    I am the master of my fate:
    I am the captain of my soul.

    What resonates particularly strong for me is - My head is bloody, but unbowed.

    I see alot of that here, in each of you.

    With grace and gratitude,
    plum and Eric "Herbie" Watson like this.
  2. plum

    plum Beloved Grand Eagle

    This full moon I gave myself to the exorcism of blood and dance. Red moon. Redemption. A journey to escape our prisons indeed. I receive your prayers and return all strength, power and beauty to you in lights for each word of love you craft.
    Eric "Herbie" Watson likes this.
  3. Lily Rose

    Lily Rose Beloved Grand Eagle

    This full moon was also known as the Mourning Moon.

    During the summer months, I worked the land, clearing brambles of blackberries, stalk by stalk. No chemicals. The birthing branches I left for the fruit it provided, but the stringers and dead remains were discarded. Blood was shed. Not much, but some. Those wild, wily plants deserved my blood. A fair exchange. A sacrifice. It caused me to contemplate how much of our blood is shed, and the sacrifices that are demanded from us to nourish the hungry earth. And larger, pulling back from the image of my single self, seeing neighbors, community, the view broadening to all lands. We give, we take.

    The prisons are of our own makings. Like a captive bird unwilling to leave the safety of her cage. We are the birds, with wings emerging from the blades of our shoulders, wings unfurling, testing ... testing. We are the Horse, finding our power. We are anything and everything we can imagine, and more.

    The Dance ... it brings visions of Fey and cracking bonfires and song.

    with grace and gratitude,
  4. Walt Oleksy (RIP 2021)

    Walt Oleksy (RIP 2021) Beloved Grand Eagle

    You are both poets and mystics. It's fascinating to read your posts.

    I am usually edgy on Full Moon nights. I think the full moon's magnetic forces
    go inside me and I

    gotta go someone at the door
  5. Walt Oleksy (RIP 2021)

    Walt Oleksy (RIP 2021) Beloved Grand Eagle

    Back again. I was just going to say that if I drink more water it usually
    gets me back to normal. So the full moon on the tides must do something to me.
  6. Lily Rose

    Lily Rose Beloved Grand Eagle

    You have great sensitivity, Walt. A gift that I am sure Annie is fully aware of.

    The Moon's pull is powerful, and affects the great mass of oceans, as well as our own internal oceans. We are but a mirror of the Mother Earth. From the molten core, through the layers of sand and stone, like our muscles (and I hesitate to use a rhyming word) and bones. The rivers deep, and rivers shallow. Our own vessels, from arteries/veins to tiny capillaries, the flow of lymph and exchanges. And all the fluid that makes up our cells, like the ocean itself, teaming with action and life.

    As gravity is twisted in a spiral, so is our DNA. We are so inter-connected with our environment. This is why it disturbs me so greatly how we abuse our world. It ultimately becomes self-abuse. As it sickens, so do we.

    This piece of abandoned property of just over two acres, it was buried in brambles, and crippled within the house. I have revealed what lay beneath, and found the most amazing gifts of peonies and grapes and comfrey and apple trees and various plum trees and pears and wild roses and naked ladies and garlic (oh the garlic!). Buried beneath shallow soil lay stones of agates and jasper and crystals and obsidian, discarded by some long ago collector.

    As I work here, I work on myself.
    I have named this place Melody.

    This, too, is my Therapy.

    with grace and gratitude,

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