Deep Sea Diving this Full Moon
Full Moon in Pisces. Can you *feel* it? I sure can. Yesterday I cried, for what seems like the first time in months. It felt good.
This Full Moon brings with it an opportunity for some deep, Deep healing. Here, we can take the hand of the mermaid and follow her down into the deep, and often mysterious waters of feeling. She takes us there to remember to feel into our feelings. And it is with her, we are safe and guided in this journey to these depths. In these waters, we can sometimes struggle and flail, and even fear. Or, we can flow, float and ride though the currents of emotion and past wounding. Feeling into the core of feeling. All the while, knowing we will eventually come up for air, and the sunshine will dry our skin and warm our hearts again.
Pisces is the feeler and Wounded Healer. The deep sea diver. The vastness of the ocean, not just the individual drop. The formless and unseen. The unknown and invisible. This Full Moon is a super healer. Paired up with it's opposite with the Sun in Virgo, where they meet in the center, and at the core of healing. Ride the wave!
The first thing I read this morning was this piece(below), by David Whyte. It reached right into my watery, piscean heart and connected with exactly how I *feel* with this Full Moon. And once again, I cried. Now, I share it with you. In-joy.
is the difficult doorway to hidden generosity, both in the here and in the now, and then, impossibly, in what lies beneath and beyond the seemingly constant agony. To begin with, physical or emotional pain is the ultimate form of ground, saying, to each of us, in effect, there is no other place than this place, no other body than this body, no other joint or limb or pang or sharpness but this searing sense of unwanted presence. Pain is the difficult invitation, it asks us to heal by focusing on the very center of the actual torment and the very way the pain is felt. Pain is an introduction and then a long apprenticeship to alertness and particularity. Through the radical undoing and debilitation of repeated pain we are reacquainted with the essentialities of place and time and existence itself. In deep pain we have energy only for what we can do wholeheartedly and then, only within a narrow range of motion, metaphorically or physically, from tying our shoe-lace to holding the essential core conversations that are reciprocal and reinforcing within the close-in circle of those we love. Pain teaches us a fine economy, in movement, in what we choose to do and what we should actually do, in the heart’s affections, in what we ask of ourselves and eventually in what we see and ask for in others.
Pain’s beautiful humiliations followed fully make us naturally and sincerely humble and force us to put aside the guise of pretense. In real pain we have no other choice but to learn to ask for help on a daily basis. Pain tells us we belong and cannot live forever alone or in isolation. Pain makes us understand reciprocation. In real pain we often have nothing to give back other than our own gratitude, a smile that looks half way to a grimace or the thankful moment of passing friendship to a helpful stranger, and pain is an introduction to real friendship, it tests those friends we think we already have but also introduces us to those who newly and surprisingly come to our aid.
Pain is the first proper step to real compassion; it can be a foundation for understanding all those who struggle with their existence. Experiencing real pain ourselves, our moral superiority comes to an end; we stop urging others to get with the program, to get their act together or to sharpen up, and start to look for the particular form of debilitation, visible or invisible that every person struggles to overcome. We suddenly find instead, our understanding and compassion engaged as to why others may find it hard to fully participate.
Strangely, the narrow focus that is the central and most difficult aspect of bodily pain, calls for the greater perspective, for a bigger, more generous sense of humor. With the grand perspective real pain is never far from real laughter, laughter at the predicament or the physical absurdity that has become a daily experience. Pain makes drama of an everyday life with our body and our presence firmly caught on stage and in the spotlight: we are visible to others in a way over which we have no choice, limping here or leaning there.
Pain is in the end, appreciation; above all for the simple possibility and gift of a pain free life- all the rest has been a bonus. Others do not know the gift in simply being healthy, of being unconsciously free to move or walk or even to run. Pain is the ultimate road of aloneness, no one can know the measure of our particular agonies, but through pain we have the possibility, just the possibility, of coming to know others and their lives, as we, with so much difficulty, have come to know our own." ~David Whyte