misplaced mama

A whole year in the calander system that has been practiced over 5000 years. The 13 moon calendar is the time keeper of Nature. So My Sula…Happy 1 Year to you. You have seen all the cycles of this Earth and experienced all moons from the Wine Moon to the Bear Moon to the Honey Moon. I held you under the full moon last week, and it was so orange it was almost red for a few moments. Then it glowed above us and I held you up and you pointed to it and smiled. Then you nuzzled my neck and it was time for you to go to sleep. First I sung you a song (the same song I have been singing to your sister for 3 years). It’s corny and it’s silly and it’s trite. But it’s true:

Oh Great Goddess of this big big world Teach my little little Sula-girl To climb our mountains very high To spread her wings and learn to fly

Since your 12-month mark, you have learned to run, to pretend sneeze, to play mad keyboards, and say Thunder (your dog).

This calendar that we use has little to no connection with nature. Our calender is set to uphold a socieo-economic industrious schedule based around Christian-Judeo holidays. It is made for us to work and keep track of production. The movements of the moon and the stars should be held more into account for time-telling. The older I get and the more I raise these girls I have an unnerving urge to shift our family time to a natural cycle. 28 days and 13 moons. With one day of renewel before the new year begins. As the moon waxes we get our business done. As the moon wanes we listen to our bodies and wind down, observe, take in. We plant on specific moons and cycles and we harvest on others. The moon, the mystery, is the essence of my body. Why don’t I listen to it’s whispers more?

This is a big leap for Sula. I can see more sparks fly in her now than I did on her actually birthday. She has grown wiser this past moon. Brighter. Faster. Sassier. And it’s a big leap for me.

I am officially not post-partum. Besides the nursing hormones I am still making, my inner and outer bodies are shifting, sinking back into it’s fertile soil. I hear songs from eggs that are beginning to take life again. There is a come hither sensation I feel stir in my deepest cave. I am ready to conceive again. 13 moons. Sula is the age Mia was when we made her from light to matter.

I don’t need to conceive right now. I could never handle a Taurus or an Aries for that matter. I would want a Scorpio this time around. But my lap fits 2 girls perfectly. And if there was a fire or earthquake (living in Southern Cali, I have actually thought of this) and I was alone with the kids, how would I carry and move with 3 kids? I can do two (one of my shoulder, one in my arms) just fine. Now I need to be wildly creative with my girls and show them a life less ordinary and dull. I need to fill their lives with music and dance and art and gardening. Those things will answer the whisper of the moon that tickles my belly an says to me “mama, mama, we can make more.” I need take my life and re-work it so that we pay more attention to those 13 moons. Start charging my water, my jewelry, my projects under the moon. I need to make Earth Holidays more fun and exciting than our American holidays of candy and presents. I want to celebrate this Earth. Heal Her. Pay attention to the planet’s subtle and obvious movements and dances. How can I listen more?