An egg, for instance, cracks open when the life inside grows too big to be contained by the shell. A volcano erupts when magma has built up inside the earth so much that it forcefully explodes through the earth’s crust, and the lava that overflows becomes new earth. A chrysalis breaks apart when the caterpillar has transformed into a butterfly. . .and in the process of emerging from the confines of the chrysalis, its wings gain the strength needed to fly free.
The cover of We’Moon 2016 focuses on what comes out of the destruction: the Phoenix rising from the ashes of the old order that lies in flaming ruins. We are envisioning a quantum leap to a new consciousness and way of being that is being forged in the fires of disintegration. It is no accident that this New Moon begins with a solar eclipse on International Women’s Day, during this Leap Year when it is the women who, in breaking free from the constraints of patriarchy, must take the lead for the survival of life on earth. Musawa
It Happened One Night
© Cathy McClelland 2009
p. 52, We'Moon 2016
Each Little Pocket of Evolution
. . .The Volcano goddess Pele of the Hawaiian Islands has directly taught me many things about the nature of the cycles of Evolution. First she bubbles up with a great fiery force that is both destructive and creative energy at the same time. Slowly over time, small lichens and mosses grow on what seems to be her barren lava fields; slowly they break down the lava, creating a rich growing medium for ferns, then orchids, and eventually the sacred Ohia tree begins to grow. Someday a rich forest emerges.
As aspects of society and our environment crumble around us, can we keep in our hearts the creative power of regeneration? Can we allow our creative ideas and even our negative emotions to be like moss and lichen, emerging slowly with faith that each little pocket of evolution will someday become a great forest of beauty—authentic beauty forged in the fires of transformation!
excerpt © Shelley Sage Hart 2013
p. 53, We'Moon 2016
Putting It Gently
However the next revolution unfolds, we humans will not be supervising it.
We do not order these planetary, life-sustaining cycles and systems that we have disordered. It is according to their own laws that they must adjust to our impact: crumbling, collapsing, turning, settling and rebalancing ages later into some new state. Although we have not understood this yet, we like all the other creatures now have a very specific survival task: adapt ourselves and our massive civilization to a new biosphere, if we can. . .
. . . Since dominion is not, as we assumed, our role here, what is? Might we, in the face of unendurable loss, finally bring forth from our hearts’ anguish an observant, responsive intelligence and a fully biosphere-cooperative culture? Could we open our eyes en masse to this gorgeous, rigorous gift, an Earthly lifespan, so that our celebration songs become powerful as rivers?
However the next revolution unfolds, we humans will not be supervising it. The challenge now is that other intriguing, energizing possibility: that we might finally learn to supervise ourselves.
excerpt ¤ Susan Kammerzell 2014
p. 64, We'Moon 2016
Between the Veils
© Danielle Helen Ray Dickson 2010
p. 129, We'Moon 2016
When a butterfly is ready to emerge from its chrysalis, it chews a tiny hole in one end and forces its stunning new form through the small orifice.
Within this “struggle” of emergence, liquids from deep inside the butterfly’s body are passed into the capillaries of its wings, then harden, to ensure the strength and capability required for a butterfly to survive and fly.
When denied of this “struggle,” the butterfly dies. When you are struggling, rest easy in the understanding that you are a warrioress, dedicated to the ripened rewards of a proper initiation.
excerpt ¤ Miss Ascentia 2010 p. 129, We'Moon 2016
Being Cooked by the Fire
Too much is said about triumph, about the overcoming and rising up like a phoenix from heroic flames. What about the longest part of the story where you’re being cooked by the fire and, while the things you love are being burned down to ashes, you are all the way left behind by the world.
In the old way, you would have heard about what makes a journey an odyssey from your elders. You’d know that you come from a long line of survivors. You’d never get anywhere quickly for all the listening you’d be expected to do, and your food would always go cold for the long prayers that are owed to your ancestors’ endurance.
And eventually you’d come to know these stories by heart because they’d wriggle down into your bones and take life in the landscape around you—in the valleys and the lakes, and the mountains.
And when your time comes, as it does for all of us—to be cooked—you’d know that you aren’t the first to be chosen by the fire and it will hurt for as long as it takes, and the only way through is with your heroics humbled.
They say that after you lose something precious, the earth absorbs your grief and then, moist with suffering, new things begin to grow in your people’s likeness.
excerpt © Toko-pa Turner 2014
p. 143, We'Moon 2016
EMAIL US: We invite your contribution to the We’Moon Tarot Forum as we begin to visualize the cards that will eventually become the We’Moon Tarot deck—now in process of creation.
Hindu Goddess of the End of Time
All the world changes.
Kali is the Hindu destroyer of worlds and the goddess of cemeteries. She is Black Mother Time. . .