A friend noted on Facebook yesterday that we ended the year with a Blue Moon. That seems like it should mean something, huh. I looked a little on the net, and found some who believe there's a special significance to the fact that we have one on New Year's eve, that a blue moon gives a lot of energy specific to making change. Then of course, there's always the skeptic, who believes that's just bunk. I rather enjoy looking for "signs" of encouragement, signs that might bring meaning. And even just being that kind of person ups my energy level for expecting something different, some kind of change this year.
But before I look to the new, it's important for me to reflect on the old, what this last 365 days brought. It was a year of chanage for me, and year of walking into new light. And it started with a little poem. It's odd how innocent little words can pack so much meaning that they seem to forge a new path.
Last year about this time, St. Timothy's was about to start a new Inquiry class, for potential new members. I had no intention of taking the class--been there, done that way too many times. I just wanted to enjoy the ride, but had no desire to make a commitment. Then Pastor Andy asked me if Mother and I would like to take the class, no pressure, just "come and see". So we did. And we both enjoyed the classes immensely, then it came time to decide if we wanted to go the next step. A step closer to commitment.
My history with organized church hasn't been very good. I've moved around a lot, and I've heard my dear daddy's words over and over about people who go "church hopping." I had looked for my spot for nearly 20 years, and had about decided I didn't really have one. And I wasn't sure I wanted to risk trying again. Someone told me a while back that they thought I might be one of those people who lived on the thrill of the "next new thing." That kind of stung, but it might be true. So there were several reasons, I drug my feet about signing on the dotted line.
But there was another part of me that still hungered and thirsted for a church home, a place to belong. And there was something that really drew me to St. Timothy's.
Then one morning, I read a little poem by Denise Levertov. This little poem gave me the boost I needed to risk trying again.
Let's go--much as that dog goes,
intently haphazard...
--dancing
edeways, there's nothing
the dog disdains on his way,
nevertheless he
keeps moving, changing
pace and approach but
not direction--'every step an arrival."
(Denise Levertov, Overland to the Islands, 1958)
That's how I felt that day, just thinking about St. Timothy's and the people there. I felt like a little puppy, dancing edgeways with excitment, tail wagging, moving haphazardly forward toward "home", wherever that might be. And every step I had taken along the way had been an "arrival".
So, I took the plunge, and signed my name in the Book, telling Andy that I didn't know if this was "it" or not, but I knew that for now, I had arrived.
And I'm so glad I did.
I never noticed the name of the poem until now--many years ago, I had a dream that my boat capsized, and I took a huge cruise boat over to an island that I knew might be home. The Episcopal Church feels like home. Safe, comfortable, small enough to feel homey, large enough to grow and expand.
I guess for me, that was the biggest thing I did last year. It had been a long time coming. I had been in a dark night for nearly 5 years, not sure what I believed, or if I even still did. And that's the way St. Timothy's took me. Full of questions and doubts. The questions and doubts still haven't been answered or aswayed, but you know, it doesn't matter any more. At least not for now. There is for today a place for this little puppy to dance sideways and wag her tail.
And 2009 was also a year to allow old relationships to die, and new ones to be born. I lost a "daughter-in-law", but we remain friends. And we are committed to staying friends while each allows the other to go her new way.
My life has changed, and it hasn't changed. We live in the paradox, the already, but not yet.
But back to our blue moon last night. I choose to take from it what I can. Here's what others have said...
"This moon puts a lot of pressure on us to make change," Killion said. "It is a not-so-gentle push from the universe telling us to get off our butts and change.
"The blue moon is considered somewhat of a blessing, like a doorway might be opened for miracles."
I believe in miracles, I believe in change, and I believe in new beginnings. I look forward to 2010. I believe in the new day, and the new hope that enters. The blue moon has set, and the sun has risen on a new day. As I finished this mandala, this song was playing, Sunrise, by Deva Premal and Miten.
Sunrise
Over the mountain
Spreading your light
Over the land
Sunrise
Another new morning
We celebrate
We are the new man
Blessed be.
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