Early morning musings: moons, mania, & power
Monday, July 6, 2020 at 6:59 AM by Kayce Stevens Hughlett
SoulStrolling Inspiration DeckIt’s not yet 6:00 a.m. I’ve been awake for more than two hours, my brain working, solving problems, balancing the scales of justice. It started with a dream that I can’t quite remember, but balance was there and perhaps an infinity symbol. I was in the middle, a conduit versus a stuck point. I’m exactly where I need to be, both in the dream, here now, and in my life. The coming together of all I’ve been and maybe even who I’m yet to become.
Is this The Fool moment? The card of new beginnings that has shown up three months in a row at the beginning of each new moon cycle. Am I finally stepping into and beyond the great unknown or something new? I don’t know and I’m not sure it matters, but I know that I’m willing. At least I think I am.
I toggle between the concepts of being obsessed or immersed when it comes to my current stance on social justice. My soul friend Sharon and I kindly landed on “immersed” last week, so that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. It’s like I’m back in graduate school with all the books and texts and topics that call to me.
While it’s still dark outside, I remember it is the full moon (technically the day after) and I recall that at least for the past three moon cycles, my sleep has been disrupted around the full moon. I acknowledge, too, that this moon also brought with it a lunar eclipse. The eclipse that asks what emotional freedom looks like for each of us. And while I know that healing is a continuum, I feel reasonably settled about where I am personally. My dismay and disruption comes with the greater world and questions of where do we go from here? How do we recover from the corona virus when society has been trained to receive instant gratification, defy rules, and believe that individuals are the center of the universe? But even the corona virus has taken a back seat (at least for me) to the greater needed healing of racial strife, white body supremacy, Black Lives Matter …
I can’t turn away from social media or social justice these days. The manic and uninformed behavior, the ludicrous actions that have become our world. I’m angry and suspicious, not trusting anyone to do the right thing or make the changes that need to be made in our homes, systems, and society. It’s enough to keep anyone up at night! And... I am always hopeful.
The current moon’s theme is about how to direct our wills to unearth what has permanent value within our culture and to let go of all else that is nonessential. Pause and think about that for a moment. What is of permanent and lasting value for you? Bucket loads of money? A big house? More time spent working to get bucket loads of money to buy and maintain a big house, fancy car, extravagant clothes? I ask again: What is of permanent and lasting value? You know, the thing you want more of on your death bed. The 'if only I could do it over again or better' kind of question.
My loved ones come to mind, alongside being present in my body, tuning into nature, and resting in a space of grace, safety, and trust. Nowhere in this equation of “value” is abject power, cruelty, or violence. For me, these fall into the nonessential and a big ‘no thank you’ category. I hear the arguments forming in my head (or maybe yours) about power versus powerlessness, but that’s not what I’m talking about in this moment. Pause again. Take a deep breath and sink into your body wherever you are. Nothing to do. Nowhere to be. Only here. Only now. Know this: You are safe. You are loved. Breathe again and repeat: I am safe. I am loved. I trust that all shall be well.
Pretty powerful stuff, yes?
In my rested and aligned body and soul, I feel attuned to the cycles of the world, of the bodies I’m surrounded by, of my capacity as a healer to step in and facilitate change. It both terrifies and enlivens me. It gets me up at 4:30 a.m. with the notion of reading myself back to sleep. Instead of my journal, I pick up my Kindle and open the next book in my cue on racial justice and awareness, My Grandmother’s Hands by Resmaa Menakem. (I finished Austin Channing Brown’s I’m Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness before falling asleep last night.)
For some inexplicable reason, I think Menakem’s book is going to be an inspirational set of stories along the line of Rachel Naomi Remen’s Kitchen Table Wisdom. Instead, I find myself pulled into a steady voice speaking on the themes of internalized trauma and how it impacts, white, African American, and police “bodies.” My heart beats faster. The student in me is fascinated. The healer inside me hopeful. I finally hear a story that resonates as deeply true. To be continued …
Previous Posts with Resources:
My Commitment to Anti-Racism Growth & Action
Social Justice: I'm listening, reading, supporting ...
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