Reflections on the moon

Cafe Astrology 

"There is a crisis theme surrounding any quarter Moon phase, as we feel compelled to take action. Shortly after, we are made aware of how our actions affect those close to us, perhaps through trial and error. Whatever project or initiative we began around the New Moon is now off the ground, and it may face its first obstacles." 

- CafeAstrology

Heavy rain last night emptied the healing waters of Kane all over us. The sun is bright, and strong through the rippling wall of clear plastic that is our Quonset's North East facing side. By Kaulana Mahina's tracking, these are the 'Ole Moons the quarter Moon phases. During these moon phases I have learned through practice and experience not to begin new projects and to attend to what has already begun. The commentary from Cafe Astrology was a bit of calling for help on my part. We are in the middle of another 'crisis theme' as described and I am sorting through the 'how our actions affect those close to us' bit. A new awareness lit for me as I read the commentary (as depicted in the glyphs). In a First Quarter Moon the Sun squares the Moon. 'Squares create tension like legs on a table square the table top to hold it up.

Astrology is one of my primary sources for deconstructing and reconstructing my world. I have come to see it as a de- and re-construction process thanks to my connections with Hawaiian practitioners like Kalei Nu'uhiwa and Dr. Pualani Kanahele. Through their scholarship and the accessibility of the Internet's cyberlibrary I source the legacy of my ancient Hawaiian creation myth and learn (through these practitioners' translations). Nu'uhiwa aptly describes these translations in her presentation "Papaku Makawalu."  Astrology is my regular observational practice of the natural re-occurrences in the sky, or in Hawaiian, Papa Huli Lani

If you look closely three thin and snaking Bracken ferns are unfurling, makawalu-ing.
 I took this photo the other day, during the 'ole moons. 

In this close-up shot the imagery speaks loudly to the action of each fern leaflet being a universe of its own ... potential to become more over this season (and the long season over the backbone of time)

In the process of unfurling, or living the life that is mine here in the woods I see that our tiny homes arrangement was the unfolding dream bred from survivors of seafarers and land-based farmers. Pete and I have the DNA of very different beginnings. When we experience the seasonal shifts, as we are now with the Equinox unfurling spring, we adapt to our environment with an inherent difference. To survive our ancestors did different things; they in turn have passed those behaviors down the string of heredity.

This post will ramble and buckle as I attempt to make sense of it even as I am going through it. If I will maintain my focus on the original quote about the quality of a Quarter Moon phase, I find this clue: "Whatever project or initiative we began around the New Moon is now off the ground, and it may face its first obstacles." 

The clue offers me this insight ... the raging pollens' early unset during the New Moon on March 20th and the need for me to have unexpected dental surgery delayed a planned event. I made a choice to cancel a storytelling and teaching gathering. I slowed things down. Pete does not slow down. Spring is literally his choice of action. He can't wait to be more active, and be active with as many people as possible. The challenge is to be aware of how our very different native survival techniques are addressed.

The clash happens. Pete's Libra Moon needs company and many people to be satisfied. My Capricorn Moon is conservative and finds satisfaction from digging, alone. I need to remember this, these Quarter Moon/'Ole Phases give me a chance to understand how to keep my soul close without turning black when Pete's very different needs overshadow.

How to make sense of it: Lawe i ka ma'alea a ku'ono'ono Take wisdom and make it deep. Between us we love to explore the deep and far-reaching potential found in the practices like Papaku Makawalu. Somewhere between the differences of styles we have there is room for understanding. I find ways to breathe the deep breaths to clear my mind, and feed it oxygen. Flushing the pollens with snorts of salt water the memories of my sea-faring ancestors make room for adaptation today. Out and about as he is today the many contacts (makawalu) Pete makes will feed him as needed.

Reflecting on the moon, I remember that she dances and moves regularly around Earth giving light and darkness equal time. Her body affects mine. I observe and notice. I employ the potential to forgive myself when I explode in anger; and be compassionate as I slip on those banana peels of judgment and impatience.

Today and tonight the Moon is in her own sign, Cancer. Settle in. 

In the flow this summer: Grand Trine in Water

Hahai no ka ua i ka ulula'au.
Rains always follow the forest.

The rains are attracted to forest trees.
Knowing this, Hawaiians hewed
only the trees that were needed.

-'Olelo No'eau

We live on an island. An island is surrounded by ocean. The ocean that surrounds us is the Salish Sea, Puget Sound by modern naming, Whidbey Island is water bound. The patch of land we park upon is in the middle of the forest we make room but cut no trees for our tiny huts, walk paths that get us from eating place to sleeping place. The trees grow taller each season, the huckleberries and fern reach up and out and all of this depends on the water.

It is wet here, often. Summer brings dry times and we pull out the picnic table and dig out our shorts delighted to brown up the pasty bleached out skin. My garden seeds have popped through the rich brown dirt, ten once purple bean seeds launched themselves this morning thanks to the summer rain that drenches now.The seeds are in the flow. All my anxious waiting and wondering "Where are they" stuff. No nevermind, the seeds knew what they needed.

Tending a garden is my best teacher: I plant my anxiety into the dirt and the lepo transforms it into feed for the seeds and with patience, the seeds reach for the sun, drink up the rain or spray from the hose, and create Blue Lake Beans and peas to eat later this summer. Astrology is another of the best teachers for me. Planting me with insight into Papahulilani via my favorite astrologer Elsa P. I can be in the flow. (Both the links to Papahulilani and Elsa's Grand Trine insight are worth the exploration!)

Definitions:

A Trine refers to 120 degrees between planets. Trines create unimpeded flow--sweet and deep support.- Elizabeth Rose Campbell

Interpretation

Saturn in Scorpio (deeply planted roots) trines

Jupiter (your philosophy about family) in Cancer trines

Neptune (ability to transcend/forgive) in Pisces

I can feel how deep my roots are planted and use my native curiosity to learn the language of my mother's blood. I read and breathe in the 'oli and interpretations from Pualani Kanakaole Kanahele's Ka Honua Ola. Slowly, I read the words and heed Pua's advice from the Preface, "Take time to enjoy and understand each phrase or line before going on. Remember, this gift took many lifetimes to wrap. Don't be in a hurry to unwrap it and become frustrated in doing so."  This is precisely what Saturn's 2.5 year stay in Scorpio is about for me. Don't rush. Dig deep.

While I rest between digs I have begun a gentle meditation practice to maintain flow. A simple ritual. I fold a paper cup. The one who is in need comes. I fill it. Or, they fill mine when it is my cup that is in need. 

Are you flowing?