40 Days of A Space for Soul continues…
#sacred #heart #open #transform

Nancy Lankston
This is What You Are For
What you stir
lovingly in your depths,
what you fiercely imagine,
will break through like a storm,
like a rapture,
simplifying,
revivifying?
This is what you are for.
To imagine the impossible is deeply human.
To muster the heart
to stretch for what beckons you
is your birthright.
Stretch.
Tear.
Explode
your heart.
This is what you are for.
Your cellular capacity to imagine
is a subversive technology.
It alters
every thing
through an evolutionary,
kaleidoscopic spin,
juicy with
elemental creativity.
Dangerous.
This is what you are for.
When you imagine with all your heart’s
brilliance
and meaty courage,
you will be claimed
by darkly-feathered hands
of unchained
angels who come to take you
hard, down into the deep caves
of what flushes your delicate skin,
dampens your palms.
Wakes you like a raging
dream
come to carry you by shimmering
forces
unknown.
Here, you will know
you have no choice.
Finally.
You are free.
This is what you are for.
If you’re ready
enough,
let this Trouble
take you
to your knees.
With your sweaty full attention,
imagine how you’d
kiss
the plump, pink lips
of your tender
soul.
But wait. Re-member:
This is not about you.
You are being used
by Every Thing.
This is what you are for.
Once re-membered,
you will draw into
your being
the throb
you came here to taste.
The one way of belonging
that is yours to make matter.
This is what you are for.
The broken-hearted,
glistening hum of
your taught, tangled
body will give
off a fragrant, unruly
intelligence beyond the Machine’s measure
of right, wrong, reason.
This is what you are for.
Have you come here to make Trouble
for Comfort and Security? For Greed and Convention?
For Routine and Predictability?
Good.
Those are the Killers of
what you are for.
The planet is very uncomfortable.
She is writhing in pain.
Feel her suffering in your blood, and
you will know what you are for.
Taste compassion for the slaughtered, and
you will love like the Milky Way.
Shatter your old ways, and
show me how your soul blushes
alive
with arousal.
This is what you are for.
Be an unpopular
harbinger,
a tender, sprouted
sentinel of
the rhizome of archaic revival.
Do not take a seat.
She is ready for you.
The soul of the world
will see you now.
What have you come to give her?
~Melissa La Flamme
Shamanic Soulwork
Where is the moon tonight?
Is she up yet?
What aspect of herself is she showing?
☾ ☽
These are the questions that come to mind when I gaze at the night sky. Maybe it’s because I’m female. The ancients claimed that all women are creatures of the moon. Or maybe it is because I was born in the early morning hours before dawn, just as the moon became full. And on that night many moons ago, the moon rose in the sign of Scorpio, the keeper of the night and the dark mysteries of life, death and rebirth. I am a moon baby.
For whatever reason, I have been fascinated by the moon for as long as I can remember. My ancestors used the cycles of the moon to track the passage of time. And I still do the same – in fact, it stuns me that the Gregorian calendar in use all over the world is not linked directly to the cyclic movements of the earth and moon. That’s why we have a silly Leap Year day every 4 years – we need to “correct” the errors in the Gregorian calendar! Whoever thought it was a good idea to ignore astronomy when creating a calendar?!
In every solar year (the time it takes mother earth to go all the way around our sun), the moon goes through 13 cycles. There are 13 lunar months in each year, not 12. And within each lunar cycle, the moon slowly shifts from the dark phase of a new moon, gradually showing more and more of herself (waxing) until she complete reveals herself at the full moon. Then she slowly wanes, showing less and less of herself in the night sky until she is not visible at all. Then the moon cycle dance begins again.
These cycles where the moon is constantly shifting and dancing with how much she reveals of herself seem quite female to me. There is nothing linear about the moon! And I find that women are typically more changeable and moody and rhythmic than men, whether we care to admit it or not. 🙂
“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant,
and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance…”
~Ecclesiastes, King James Bible
Our ancestors planned their sacred rituals around the cycles of the moon; they knew that each moon phase holds a specific power. So, when the moon was fully revealed in her full moon state, the ancients celebrated and worshipped the divine feminine energies of birthing and completion. Even today, wise midwives plan their schedules, knowing that many, many babies are born when the full moon exerts her pull on pregnant wombs! Full moons are times of completion.
In contrast, when the moon is hidden from view in her new moon state, the ancients saw it as a potent time to plant the seeds for new projects and begin new ventures. Even the timing of farm planting and sowing was tied to the moon cycles in ancient times; not so silly when we realize that the waters and tides of planet earth feel the pull of the moon as well.
The next time you’d like to start a new project, try starting it during the dark phase of the new moon. And when you are ready to celebrate an accomplishment or rite of passage, hold your celebration during full moon time. Synchronize with the rhythms of the moon and see how much potency organic timing can add to your life.
I love watching the moon go through her dance from dark to light and back to dark each month. I am definitely a moon baby! And I plan to continue my love affair with the rhythms and cycles of the moon until I leave this earth. It keeps me connected to the cycle of the seasons in a deep meaningful way.
My mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in 2006. She made her final transition last week, after years of inhabiting both this world and the world beyond. This poem is for you Mom:
I am the daughter of the mother who sees beneath
Raven’s eye shows me the way through
To the other side where down is up
And time can stand still
Until the time is right.
I am the daughter of the mother who sings in my bones
Drum song carries me out of now
To a place where fiery dragons roam,
Mother Moon dances with her Sun
And Spirit Bear guides me home.
~Nancy Lankston
☾ ☽
I am the moon goddess casting a silver net over this night
I am the brooding black raven asleep in the dark wood
I am the dreamer and the fox who guards the dreamer
I am the windswept plain where lost dreams can be found
I am the bone songs of my ancestors playing on the wind
I am the heart of the ancient sycamore crumbling into dust
I am green leaves capturing rays of sunlight as they fall
I am the lone crane, standing watch near the shore
I am the jumping salmon crane silently waits for
I am the dance of flickering flame consuming it all
I am Phoenix reborn from the ash of what came before.
~Nancy Lankston
I sit
breathing out my worry
and my wonder
as I silently ask the Goddess
what exactly is compassion?
and can I offer it to myself?
I sit
breathing out my fear
am I brave enough
to love
like a Boddhisattva
without reason, without end?
I sit
watching the Goddess
smoke dances, we sit
suddenly, the stone of me cracks
there is nowhere to hide
I am love.
I Am
My bones are mountains.
My tears, rushing rivers.
The earth’s crust is my skin.
Trees adorn my head.
The sun, moon, and stars
Are in my eyes.
The ether of the Universe is my breath.
Separateness is an illusion.
I am all things and all things are me.