Don’t cry for the moon. Even when it shines with the glitter of the New Year, and pierces the cold gloom of winter like the promise of Spring, and begs you to believe that your luck has finally changed for the better.
Those are the words that open my novel Wolf Moon. When I wrote them, I was the happily employed working mom enjoying my last years of childrearing as my youngest finished high school. Now, on this year’s Wolf Moon—always the first full moon of January—everything is different. I have no kids at home any more, my youngest having gone off to college. And I have no job, my employer having laid ne off last month.
Which means that I’ve got the time to ruminate on the significance of the Wolf Moon, so called by the Native Americans because that was when winter struck hard, and the hungry wolves came howling round the villages in search of food.
Talk about your first chakra issues: Survival, security, safety.
The first chakra, called the muladhara or root chakra, is located at the base of the spine; it’s the energy vortex that is the seat of all manifestation. Block this grounding chakra—through fear, anxiety, insecurity—and you’ll be hard-pressed to manifest anything.
There goes that new job I want/need so much. So I screwed my courage to the sticking place, and did a lot of yoga including specific postures to unblock my first chakra—from standing postures such as Tadasana (mountain pose), Utkatasana (chair) and Utkana Konasana (goddess) to seated postures such as Padmasana (lotus), Supta Baddha Konasana (reclining bound angle pose), and Hanumanasana (monkey god pose).
Hanumanasana—which is basically doing the splits—is a challenge for me. I remember when at 21, pregnant with my first child, my doctor asked me if I was still feeling flexible and fit, and I responded by doing the splits on the floor of his office.
“Don’t do that again,” he said.
That was a long time ago. Now I must use a prop under my butt to ease myself into the stretch. It’s a loooooong stretch.
Thus far, 2012 has been a loooooong stretch, challenging me to reinvent myself from the ground up, pulling my old life out by the roots and unceremoniously sticking me in foreign soil. As if to say, “Survive here, if you can!”
It’s enough to make you howl at the moon. And why not? Howling is just another form of breathing. So go ahead, howl along with me at the Wolf Moon.
And keep on breathing.
The Year of Giving Continues….
Day 4 of 365
I gave my new pair of Converse sneakers to a friend visiting from Europe who admired them and happened to wear the same size shoe. They’re wicked expensive over there.
Day 5 of 365
On my last day with my three-year-old granddaughter Elektra, I tucked the last of the Disney princess “lip gloss” sticks from my secret stash into her “purse” to find on the plane on her way home. This is why, among other reasons, that I am the world’s best grandmother. At least to Elektra.
Day 6 of 365
After taking the red eye home from Las Vegas
Day 7 of 365
When I moved from California to Massachusetts New England winter.
Day 8 of 365
I gave up half of my closet to my new roommate. If you’re a woman, you’ll appreciate what a sacrifice that was, no matter how appealing the person with whom you must share your wardrobe space.
Day 9 of 365
I gave my son’s friend and fellow boxing enthusiast, Brian Z, my heavy bag, which he has coveted for many years. There was a time when hitting something made me feel really good—men never tell us women how good it feels to hit something!—but the yogic path offers satisfaction of a different sort.
Day 10 of 365
Today was fun—I got a facebook message from a friend of mine who’d read about The Year of Giving on this blog and asked if I’d give her some free publishing advice. Done!
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