Posted in Moon-child, Spirituality

Strawberry Full Moon

Picture taken from google

Last night I got to attend my second full moon drumming circle. It’s a beautiful gathering of people, that come together to celebrate the full moon and let go of any feelings and energy that no longer has room in their life. It’s a time to let go and ground that energy back to Mother Earth.

The drumming starts with the heartbeat, a sound we first heard in the womb. A sound that connects us back to Mother Earth. As you relax into your breath, your body becomes lighter and lighter. You can feel the energy moving everywhere as it fills itself with peace and tranquility. By giving yourself permission to take the time to experience these very moments, your heart is full of gratitude, and by now you are fully relaxed. The daily hustle and bustle noise quiets down, and soon all that is left behind are the sounds of nature and the chirping birds. You hear crystal clear, almost as if you have never heard it with such clarity and purpose before.

Through it all, the “heartbeat” continues as you feel the vibrations from the drum in every nook and cranny of your body. It is powerful and healing at the same time.

It is definitely a neat experience to attend a drumming circle if you have the chance. Your experience will be empowering, while leaving you feeling good about what you no longer want to manifest. But either way, you can still do your own full moon celebration and give back what no longer serves you. Have you ever thought about what those things would be?

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Posted in Moon-child

February Super Moon

Picture taken from Pinterest

Standing at the kitchen sink, washing dishes, my eyes entered into direct competition with the giant supermoon that was climbing over the mountain crest across from me. The moon always captures me, and while others can’t sleep or experience other crazy phenomena of acting irrationally, I find myself in awe of its beauty, feel soothed, and comforted.

Staring out the window, it looked bigger than usual, and it wasn’t until a few days later that I discovered as to why. The full moon on February the 19th was the biggest full moon of the entire year. No wonder it caught the attention of this moon child. The appearance of the moon depends on its distance to the earth and can vary by 50.000 Kilometers. It is also the brightest moon of the year with about 30% more light reaching us. It’s a perfect time for camping and I always loved being out in nature, spending the night, especially during that time, when you can walk around in the luminescent glow of the moonlight.

Super moons are not rare and every 29.5 days we have a full moon. Every 27.5 days the moon reaches its closest point to the earth, making it appear at its biggest. Almost every calendar year has a supermoon.

For instance the supermoon on January the 2nd 2018, was 200 Kilometers closer to the earth than the one last night. The fascinating super moon of January the 4th 1912 was almost 400 Kilometers closer. But, not until Christmas of 2026, in almost 8 years to come, will we see another supermoon that will be bigger than the one we saw last night. I hope you enjoyed the moon and took a moment to pause and admire its beauty.

Posted in Inspiration, Life, Moon-child

Healing moments

The moment Moms voice cracked and tears nearly fell, has been with me over the past days. I keep thinking back to the tremendous amount of fear and stress it took for those emotions to finally surface in front of me. I have never seen Mom cry and yesterday shed additional light onto why this might be.

Since our soup night (see post “Work in Progress”), Mom has been more open to talk about things that she has carried within herself for the past 44 years. Things dating back to the moment Dad died in a work accident, when life changed unimaginably in the blink of an eye. The subject turned to Dad again last night as I was visiting, and the prior times of her talking about him have been rare. What I mean with that is the times that concern his death. She began to say that she used to cook in the evening because Dad worked during the day. She voiced trouble remembering not to do so after his death, and I’m sure she cooked anyways. “I would run from window to window, waiting, wondering where he was, until I remembered that he wouldn’t come home anymore” she said. My heart sank seeing her sit in front of me, head down like a little pile of hurt and sorrow, that resembled the remains of what was left from years of pain and a life of struggle. It all became so much clearer for me and although I always had a great deal of compassion and understanding for her, this was on a total new level. I felt transported back to that time, as if I jumped into her body, feeling it firsthand. If I could have waived my hand to take it all away, there would have been no hesitation. I even carry that burden for awhile to hear her laugh carefree and happy, to have never experienced such horror.

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and started talking to her. I hoped to encourage her to keep going, to vent, to let it out and ultimately feel better. I shared what I remembered by saying that I know it was Saturday morning and that I was still in my bed, in my room. I heard Grandpa (my paternal grandfather) ring the doorbell and I heard his muffled voice through the door. I remember holding my breath, trying to listen and all went blank from there. The next thing I remember is driving to the accident site, but I don’t remember who was driving. I see myself standing next to Mom, amongst the adults. Everything was in a fog, the voices so distant, people looked so huge and I felt so small. I see the police holding Mom back as she walked towards the gapping black hole, the door on which other end Dad’s burnt remains were. Kindly, they suggested for her to keep him in her memory the way she remembered him instead of seeing him like this. I told her that this was all that I could remember and that without a doubt I blocked much out over the years. I believe the body self protects itself during times of horror by doing so. “Well you cried and screamed, you couldn’t calm down until the doctor came and gave you a shot” she said. I can’t even articulate what I felt in that moment, hearing her say this, as I have no recollection of this at all. It’s been going through my mind ever since. She further explained that I did hear what happened through the door as grandpa was telling Mom about his sons and her husbands death. I now understand the trauma I experienced, why I don’t remember and that drugs made everything appear fog-like for that initial day. As I’m reconnecting with this moment as an adult, so many years later, I feel chills and my heart fills with sadness. It changed our lives. I understand how difficult it must have been for Mom to keep it all together. What immense amount of strengths this woman had to muster to go on after such a blow, after losing her soulmate.

Immediately there was the realization of her husband gone. Then her young daughter starts crying uncontrollably and can’t calm down. Not only her own loss to deal with, but now she had to worry about me as well. I understand now what she meant as she said that she kept everything away from me and why she did it. She’s talking about trouble, emotions and feelings that could have triggered another reaction like the one I had. I think she was afraid it would, that it would damage me and leave signs and scars that couldn’t be erased. She tried to protect me and keep it all away from me. Except I grew up a person that needed feelings and emotions, that had experienced loss and had to cope in my own way, with little help. Yet, Mom did the best she could and I was a child, not someone Mom could open up to, to find relief and comfort for her own grief. Back in those days it wasn’t common to see a psychiatrist and it was even frowned upon. Something was wrong with you, perhaps you were dumm, an idiot. How uneducated and shallow we must have been back then. We simply didn’t know better and didn’t understand. Therefore it was foreign and avoided all together. You suffered alone, had to get it together, be strong and tough, lock away your feelings, just like Mom did. I look back and my heart is heavy for the life that she had. Not knowing her own father for the first 11 years as he was a POW. Living through a war, fleeing a country with nothing but a few things on your back, the sirens that still go off here but now signal different troubles such as fires etc, besides the bomb alarms and invasions back then. Never really having a childhood and having to grow up way too soon, finding bliss with your soulmate to have it ripped away from you again. Raising me by herself with no outside help to digest all the heartache, while trying to find her own way in all of it.

Her way of talking about it to me yesterday showed progress. Although she didn’t completely let go as I sat next to her and held her after she told me about the doctor and the shot he had given me, she still released a little pressure. We shared a moment together and I didn’t held back to control my own emotions. It’s been twice now that I have seen tear filled eyes, all within this week and perhaps my purpose has changed once more. I understand as to why I had no connection to my old room. I never slept in it again after the message of Dad’s death. It was nearly my childhood room but had no memories attached to it, other then that major, bad one. I don’t remember ever playing in it with a girlfriend. It was a bad place for me, one I didn’t want to return to. Strangely I’ve been sleeping in my room since I came back to Germany and feel that I have spent more time there now then before. It is true and after all, we had just recently moved into that house back in 74 as Dad died. That room has resembled unfinished business to me in a way I couldn’t explain. I didn’t know what it was until now, I just felt that I needed to spend time in it. Since, it has become a room I feel closest to Dad these days, and a place that has given me a little sanctuary. Crazy to consider the turn around, now that I know the full story, but I know it is so because healing has taken place.

My purpose in coming to Germany has always been to help Mom, but also to find my own healing. It’s a time where her life is changing in dramatic ways as she loses control of being independent. Over the past six month I have witnessed Mom struggle many times and I know that she is not at peace. Peace is something that I wish for her, peace is something that I want her to take with her when she leaves this world. Peace is something I think I have seen glimpses of within her. My dear friend Amanda always reminds me to bring the light to Mom’s darkness. I think the light resembles peace, and I think by Mom opening up, releasing some of the emotions she had to hold for the past 44 years, is allowing a little peace and light to fill her soul, replacing the hurt with hope and perhaps this has been my purpose all along.

Posted in Life, Moon-child

Hospital

I got to see Mom at the hospital on Thursday and Friday. She was still a bit difficult on the first day, and many of the old accusations were thrown my way as far as leaving her behind and if Dad was alive I’d be different and so on. I heard it so many times, I’ll remember it for the rest of my live.

Mom’s handicap identification card came in the mail. It list her handicap percentage and has multiple symbols/abbreviations on it that I will need to look up to fully understand. What I fully understood were the reasons as to why her license was granted.

  1. Dementia and behavioral issues
  2. Trouble in both knees/legs, open wounds and amputated toes
  3. Diabetes

I knew right away from reading it, especially the first reason that it explained a lot about Mom’s recent behavior. How she could fight with me and ten minutes later talk as if nothing had happened. It simply didn’t happen in her mind and she was sweet as pie while leaving you sit there to chew at the junks she had just thrown your way. The paperwork that came along with her license explained a lot. I had my answer. Dementia…

Today was better and she smiled that smile while talking with a soft voice. One of the first things she said to me, was that she had a operation ahead of her, in the afternoon. She didn’t fully know for what and the only thing she said was that her foot was very bloody today as the doctor looked at it. How she thought everything was ok and all of a sudden she needed a other operation. She seemed strong, but I could sense her worry. Later on I found out that there are a few pieces of bone that need to be removed. Apparently they poke, causing the foot to bleed, unable to heal. I stayed with her until they came to take her to surgery. She let me hold her hand and even squeezed it back. All I could do is look at her and see this sweet, caring lady while remembering the monster that was lying silent right now, but which had a side to itself that was terrible and painful to observe. Not that I want to call Mom a monster, but when fear mixes with deep seated pain, dementia and a loss of understanding, it is monstrous and sad to watch. Downright helpless, and you have to learn to recognize that behavior is often due to illness. I did so before I knew that Mom had dementia and this is merely confirmation of what I felt. I though she was bi polar.

I don’t know how long she has had the dementia, but it further confirms that Mom can never be by herself anymore. I just don’t know how I will ever make her understand this. In her eyes I will continue to be that horrible child that abandoned her and left her behind.

Posted in Inspiration, Moon-child

Harvest Moon


As a Moon-child, I don’t find it strange in the least bit that I often photograph the moon. There is something peaceful when I watch the glowing ball silently sway across the night sky.  There is always magic and awe, filled with moments of being mesmerized and eyes wide open. There is a draw to it that I can’t explain, it just is….

This picture was taken just a few days before the full Harvest Moon. It was still building to fill out into it’s round, full shape. I think it’s equally beautiful, full or not and in addition to being magical, the half moon leaves something for the imagination. Hidden and not yet fully visible, it appears mysterious, as if something was missing and incomplete. Still, we all know that it is whole, and just because we can’t see something, doesn’t mean that it isn’t there. Perhaps “Master Moon” is teaching us a lesson that at times there is no need to show it all, to keep some angles concealed, and remember that given the right time, the master of illusion will reveal itself in all it’s magic. 

Posted in Emotions, Feelings, Inspiration, Life, Moon-child, My story

Calgon…Take me away…

Today belonged to me and I knew it would easily become my most favorite day out of the past ten. Initially I felt tired from my nine day working stretch, but I was able to ease into my morning and after all there was no work today. No deadlines and no chores, except laundry of which I dedicated myself to. I’m not sure if it’s even possible, but it seemed that today, I found an even greater appreciation for my time off and every minute was a gift.

The day started off with coffee while checking into WordPress and after some reading I was off to creating a new post. The morning seemed complete but it got even better. I got to chat with a dear friend and hear a familiar voice on the other end. It warmed my heart and even we don’t nearly take enough time to do it more often as life pulls constantly on the strings of time, (nothing but an excuse and I just need to make it happen instead of using it as a crutch), she knows that she’s my girl and I carry her in my heart.

It rained today and for the first time the temperatures plummeted into the 50’s. Nothing drastically, but still a sudden change that came overnight. The perfect day for bubbles and suds and I quickly turned to fill the tub for what I envisioned would end in a long relaxing bubble bath. And indeed it was….

Tuning to “Nazareth” the ballads (perfect for relaxing, I did it once before), I slipped into my bubbly cave, facing the window. I watched the clouds glide effortlessly across the blue sky, while drifting apart and giving way to the sun rays fighting to peak through the thick cloud cover. Moments later you could see them merge again and the world would fall darker. It was a constant push and pull, much like life itself. I watched the dance in the sky while letting my mind drift to think about nothing. Just observing the struggle between light and dark. Other moments were filled with the music taking over and with my eyes closed I felt the words of the song. For 1 hour 4 minutes and 36 seconds I had my own push and pull, my own dance between watching the universe and letting the music take me away. Music has always been such a vital part of my life and while not being tied to one specific genre, I believe that it is music that begins to speak when words end and can no longer convey what we we are trying to express.

 

Finally I had to get out of the bath if I wouldn’t want to end up completely shriveled up. Invigorated, relaxed and now standing in the tub, “Moondance” was the last song that played and had me dancing in place in that slippery tub. No, don’t worry, nothing happened and I’m perfectly fine, but I had a few slips and surprise, surprise, always something pointing me back to the moon as it grabs this moon child that resides deep within me.

I look forward to tomorrow and to another day off. And while enjoying a day relaxing in my castle (a cancer’s home), I’m ready for a hike and making some new memories. Due to a dry summer we already have fall colors appearing and I hope to capture some cool pictures. But either way I know for sure that I will capture some trail magic and any wildlife sighting will be a bonus. Fingers crossed….

Nothing wrong with a little Moon dance…check it out, just stay away from dancing in the slippery tub please. 😉

http://youtu.be/hFgPDvpqdkc