I’m building in mini-NEW YEAR NEW ME moments into the year. In the interest of full disclosure: I’m going full wee-woo on this post.
As I mentioned in a previous post, I’m doing this by observing the full moons at least up through August. I want to see how preparing for a transitional moment and living in smaller chunks of time changes how I think about myself and my work.
On March 12th, I celebrated the Storm Moon, or the Worm Moon. In realising that I needed some practical ideas for how to celebrate a full moon, I quieted the data-driven side of my brain and wandered around the magick-with-a-k internet. Folklore isn’t always opposed to science, but they’re not necessarily on the same page, either.
Folklore aside, there are plenty of good reasons from psychology to reflect on your perception of time, even if getting witchy with it doesn’t appeal to you.
According to the book “HedgeWitch: Spells, Crafts & Rituals For Natural Magick,” published in 2011 by Silver RavenWolf (cue screaming of hard-science brain), this moon is for beginning a new job or project and choosing upcoming seeds to plant.
Patti Wigington writes about the Storm Moon over at ThoughtCo, saying, “Use this month for magical workings related to rebirth and regrowth.” She notes, “If you’ve ever thought about changing your life, especially by making big changes, now is the time to plant the seeds for those efforts.”
So, how did I mark the Storm Moon/Worm Moon?
The whole weekend felt like I was marking a new year, which was the exact feeling I had been hoping to achieve.
Over the weekend, I finalised a couple of essays for another grad school application, and I applied for a job (contingency plans, everyone!) These are two big applications that are definitely metaphorical seeds of two very different plants. I also reached out to references and confirmed their support for my applications.
On Saturday, I was elected to a leadership position in a local group, thus literally beginning a new project that should last about two years. I also went to a broadcast of the Met’s La Traviata, and reflected on the themes of communication, the treatment of others, and the idea of duty and purpose throughout the opera. I also cried like a baby at the end – I am my own little storm moon!
March 12 itself was a Sunday, and as it turned out, it was somehow busier than Saturday. I hit submit on the applications, did two loads of laundry, called my mother and went on a long walk. I also cleaned all of the floors in the apartment with E and put away some cold weather clothes.
Welcoming friends into my home and planting seeds were on my list of things that I wanted to do, and I was able to achieve that doubly over. First, we had two friends over for dinner, and then another friend arrived suddenly from Bordeaux to stay for two days. Before the dinner party but after my friend’s arrival, we sat outside and planted 6 little paper seed hearts into two clay pots.
About a week away from my little moon celebration, and I’m feeling a lot of feelings. On the one hand, I’m feel really happy when I look at the dark dirt in the clay pots. I’m hoping to see little leaves in the next two weeks or so, but there’s an anxiety in my stomach as well.
What if these little seeds don’t grow? What if I don’t receive an interview for this next graduate program, or for the job I applied for? What if nothing I planned actually pans out?
As I’m about 1/4 of the way through this month, I’m trying to focus on the process of growing, rather than the outcomes. Applying to the grad program and the job helped me reflect on what I want and what I value, even if neither of those opportunities come to fruition. Planting seeds doesn’t always work out, but I need to practice the planting in order to one day have a garden.
For now, there’s plenty of ‘growing’ activities on my plate: papers, projects, and continuing to balance my classes and my internship have me busy busy busy, and I can content myself with small progress as a valuable thing.