The silence that allows the words to sink in,
Listening without already preparing the reply,
releasing the mind from the prison of thoughts.
When I started this blog I made myself a promise, that I would write and post regularly. To make my life ”easier” I decided to structure my commitment into writing at least twice a month, with the New Moon and the Full Moon, the deadline being of course the exact time of that particular moon phase for the place I live in.
And it worked, for several months, until it didn’t. And this is the thing with self-imposed deadlines and discipline, we hold ourselves to an arbitrary standard and bind ourselves to a structure that, logical as it may be, does not account for the internal changes that happen in the meanwhile. Does not account for circumstance within and beyond our control. Does not account for life.
So, sooner or later we fail. We miss the deadline, don’t hit the target, skip a date or two. The mind goes in overdrive trying to identify the cause, casting blame left and right, beating our poor selves up for not being strong enough, or organised enough, disciplined enough. But the fact remains, we have ”failed”, and here we stand, our little ego shattered into little pieces at our feet.
What we are left with are one of two choices: pretend it never happened and carry one as if it was just a glitch in the system, or give it all up and start a whole new and improved structure that will for sure not fail. Both involve pushing through the resistance and going against the very reason we sabotaged ourselves in the first place: it’s not us, it’s the structure.
The undoing of our perfect plan was written within its lines the day it was born. Anything that can’t grow, evolve and change will eventually die. The stricter the structure we hold on to is, the more likely it is to fail, the more rigid our approach, the more suffocating it is for our creativity.
Because I was doing so well writing within my schedule, I felt I was doing ”my job” and I wasn’t writing anything else, I wasn’t posting anything in between and I wasn’t exploring other themes. My own structure was limiting me and, following my plan diligently was preventing me from getting out of my own way ….
Sometimes the stars are silent … Sometimes we need to stop and pause for a while … Sometimes we need to take a step back so we can see the whole picture. So we can regain our perspective and remember why we’re here in the first place. Why we’re doing what we’re doing. So we can reconnect to our own purpose again.
I write because the stars and the planets and the archetypes help me see the world differently, filled with life, full of meaning. I write because sometimes the words just flow revealing a part of myself that usually stays hidden. I write because it keeps me out of my cave and helps me stay connected to this world full of meaning.
But what this Full Moon in Gemini reminded me is that I write mostly for myself. So that I can find meaning for and from myself. That anyone else reads this words and finds some sort of meaning is a wonderful bonus, that I can find like minded spirits is an even greater bonus, but ultimately I write because I enjoy the process of writing.
And too tight a structure will kill the process. Creativity does not do well under duty. It needs freedom and space and chaos. And sometimes it needs time. It needs moments of silence when apparently nothing is happening. Moments out of focus. Staying with the frustration. Requires trust. Complete surrender into its lack of logic.
It doesn’t mean I’ll give up my structure all together, I’ll still be writing about the new moon and the full moon, but only if the writing flows, if the stars speak to me and if the archetypes come out to play. Sometimes if you sit down to write, the words will come, but sometimes they won’t. And if they don’t, there’s usually a reason.
Sometimes we don’t have all the pieces, sometimes the message lies hidden in the silence, between the lines, under the surface. Sometimes it’s just not the time and sometime the message takes time. Needs to ripen. Needs to unfold slowly. And sometimes the unfolding itself is the message. And only stillness and deep listening will let it come out.
Sometimes you have to let the intensity of an event fade away to see what’s really happened, where all the pieces have fallen, how the landscape looks now. This moon was a bit like that. In the chatty sign of Gemini, I spent my day chatting instead of writing and, before I knew it, the Full Moon had come and gone and my deadline with it.
And then came the morning after with the guilt and the questioning and the blaming. Why had I not written? Was it time to give it all up? Who reads any of this anyway? Am I just fuelling my own ego with my full moon ramblings? Was it laziness? Was it just procrastination? The message was right in front of me, but I was too busy talking.
Gemini is the sign of the messenger and the message, how we listen and what we listen to, how we talk and what we talk about. The stories we tell ourselves. And how these stories can imprison us. Keep us small. Prevent us from ever venturing out of our comfort zone. In the end, I wasn’t procrastinating, I just wasn’t listening.
Behind procrastination lies hidden the impulse of new growth. Once we have outgrown our own skin, the old one must be shed for the new one to be able to grow. In order to live. We might be skinless for a while, vulnerable and out in the open with nowhere to hide, but when the alternative is death, is it really any choice at all?
The animals in nature know it, the trees know it, as everything around us slowly dies off, only what is essential is kept for the long winter months so that in spring, everything can emerge with new life again. We too now have a chance to let go of last year’s growth and make room for whatever new self is waiting patiently under the old skin.
As the last Full Moon of the year, this Elder Moon has given us one last message, one more piece of the puzzle, one more clue for our story. In two weeks the New Moon will usher in the beginning of the New Year, but, until then, we get a moment to process the message. There’s still room for letting go, we still have time to scrape off old bits of skin.
If you can sense the message is close, but not quite within your grasp, if you feel like you’re missing something or if you’re just curious and you would like to know more about the story in your astrological chart, you can book your reading here. ❤