Dig into your mystical side. Do some spiritual introspection. Tap into your intuition and set intentions with this Pisces new moon.
Start a meditation practice if you don’t have one. Try something new if you do–like meditating while gazing into a bowl of water. Pisces is a water sign after all.
You might also want to do some dream work. Tell your subconscious what what you’d like a message about and then set the intention to remember your dreams before going to sleep.
Use this tarot spread for to see what the new moon means for you personally.
Don’t think about next week, I told myself. Deal with today.
Christmas was coming at me like a runaway Santa sleigh. It felt like we had to visit five sides of the family all at once. And have a gift for what seemed like sixty-four people. The day after Christmas, I was taking my daughter to Los Angeles for a week-long modeling competition. And the day after we got back, I was due in court. My ex was suing me for a ridiculous amount of money.
Just get through today, I repeated.
Compartmentalizing can be a useful skill when stressful events are stacked on top of one another. It helps to deal with them as they come.
But what about difficult emotions? Is compartmentalizing them useful?
It can be as long as we face those emotions. Running away from our feelings means we’re denying ourselves the opportunity to grow.
We all have emotions we’d prefer to avoid. There are things we’ve done we’re not proud of. Painful memories.
But refusing to accept them, burying them, denying them means we’re missing out on a chance to see ourselves as whole.
Unfelt emotions become stuck energy. Stuck energy keeps us from moving freely in the world.
When an unwanted emotion starts to emerge, rather than stuff it down, jot it down. Using a pen and paper allows our rational intellect to have a say. Our logical brains can create the distance needed.
How is the feeling showing itself? In a snippet of a dream? An image in the mind? A memory that doesn’t quite make sense? A sensation in the body? A desire to scream or cry or run for the hills?
Start by writing a few words and simply sitting with them. When you’re ready, pick up the thread again and follow it a little further, always with compassion. If this process starts to become overwhelming, you may want to process them with the help of a spiritual advisor.
We all have parts of ourselves that we don’t want to look at. But hiding behind them we can find authenticity. Inspiration. Buried treasure.
We can come out the other side feeling renewed. Wiser. And with the realization that this is what it is to be human.
It might be a traditional love story where two people fall in love. But there are also love stories about dogs (Old Yeller), hometowns (A Confederacy of Dunces), baseball players (The Natural), and food (Fried Butter by Abe Opincar. I highly recommend it).
And there are the stories we tell. Our words weave the story of what we love.
I’m no spring chicken—I loved being young I always attract the wrong sort of person–I love being a victim Everyone else is a horrible driver—I love feeling superior It’s too hot/cold/humid/dry—I love complaining
We attract what we generate. The Universe can only multiply the energy we put out.
Our relationships also mirror our relationship with ourselves.
To experience affection, we should give it from a place of authenticity.
If we would like others to honor us, we need to honor ourselves first.
Watch the stories you tell—to yourself and to others. Take a moment this week to examine your current relationship with yourself and those with others.
And remember: Baby steps.
Snuggle with a pet. Volunteer doing something you enjoy. Send someone a note telling him or her how much you appreciate their friendship. Hell, send yourself a love note.
“You just parked under a no parking sign!” Mak said incredulously.
I shrugged. I was trying to be less of a goody two shoes. You know the type—follows every rule, sits in front, waves her hand to answer all the questions.
We were on our way into our Clinical Pastoral Education class. This unit was hospice internship. I was surrounded by seminarians finishing up their schooling before ordination. A group who followed the rules almost without question.
Well, except Mak. He had a slight issue with authority. But apparently that did not extend to the powers that governed parking.
So, I parked under a huge no parking sign. Big deal. What was the worst that could happen?
Ok, it was Chicago. My car could be towed by the Protective Parking Service Corporation (aka Lincoln Towing), a company that had so many complaints filed against its questionable practices that maybe I should have chosen to rebel some other way.
But I parked there week after week, defying that giant sign, taking a risk, questioning what seemed to be an arbitrary rule. I mean, it wasn’t a fire lane or anything.
How often do we blindly follow “rules”?
Don’t wear white after Labor Day. Don’t end a sentence with a preposition. Men, open the car door for a woman and pull out her chair for her. Women, get rid of all your body hair. Face forward in an elevator.
Doing otherwise can make us appear trendsetting, maybe quirky, or maybe even tone-deaf.
Doing otherwise may make us feel courageous, like risk-takers, chicks breaking out of our shell.
One of the barriers to change is rigidity about rules.
I’m not suggesting you run red lights or shoplift a five-pound ham.
I’m talking about examining the norms that were instilled in you by your parents, or teachers, or peer groups. Little things like clapping after someone blows out their birthday candles. Why? Was it that big of an accomplishment? Or maybe it’s a habit you’ve developed that, upon inspection, makes no sense.
Does following informal rules give you a sense of order and comfort? Does it make your life easier, like Steve Jobs wearing the same outfit every day?
Or does it keep you inside your shell?
When you think of the societal norms in your life, do they enlarge or limit you?
What custom can you play with or test this week?
Will the earth spin in the opposite direction if I don’t put my left shoe on first? If I set the heat to an odd number? It might. But I’m going to give it a shot, rebel that I am.
Now is the ideal time to decide what you truly want–not what other people expect or think you should want. What wild idea is itching to see the light of day? Set that intention. Then get going!
I was standing in my friend Kaye’s kitchen, in my pink pajamas, when suddenly I knew exactly what was going to happen next.
I had been driving my son to his friend’s house one evening. I was already in my PJs for the night, but I was just dropping him off, so no one was going to see me. Then I realized I was in Kaye’s neighborhood and called her up.
“Come on over!” she said.
She did not mention that she had company. I did not mention that I was in my pajamas. It was all starting to feel like a dream, the one where I’m naked in public.
And then the déjà vu hit. I felt I knew what was going to happen next and what was going to be said next.
Most of us have had moments of déjà vu, that feeling that we’ve been in that exact spot, or said those very words, or done that thing before.
Is it some neurological trick? Is it evidence of a past life?
You’d think we’d remember our past lives. After all, they probably lasted, well, a lifetime, right? Why don’t we? Why can’t we?
In ancient Greece, the dead were crowned with wreaths of henbane to help them forget that lifetime so they could move forward.
Maybe we’re not meant to remember our past lives.
Have you seen the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind?
In it, the two main characters have had a volatile relationship, they break up, and then undergo a procedure to erase all memories of each other.
Their past is too painful. They can’t move on while still remembering.
We’ve all had at least one painful relationship, one we wish we could erase from out minds. It could be with a parent, a friend, or a lover.
And for some of us, that pain keeps us from moving forward. We guard our hearts, refusing to be that vulnerable again.
Not remembering our past lives might, then, be a good thing. A blessing. We are able to move forward with freedom. There is little if anything holding us back.
There are some things we carry over from the previous life. Talents like an uncanny ability to play the piano at a young age. The people in our soul group. Cellular memories. And certain recollections that don’t match up with our present incarnation.
I’m pretty sure I was never in a friend’s kitchen in my PJs before. But it is likely that I had a prior experience of feeling surprised and exposed. And that there was a lesson that I was determined to learn this time around.
That evening, in Kaye’s kitchen, I didn’t run out of the house feeling mortified. I stayed, had a drink, and played games with everyone like it was the most natural thing.
I hope I got it right. If not, I’ll be saying déjà vu all over again.
Full moons offer us an opportunity to release. The first full moon of the year increases the importance of forgiving and letting go.
What didn’t work out the way you wanted it to in 2021? What (and who) upset your or left you feeling like you’re less than gloriously perfect? Now is the perfect time to recognize what you need to leave behind.
This lunation will highlight triggers and emotions. Things you’re avoiding will surface. Confrontations that arise are ones that have been brewing for a while.
Mercury retrograde at this time also means rehashing issues from the past and releasing what’s necessary to move forward.
Slow down. What’s really important to you?
Here’s what this full moon means for each sign.
Aries: Call out toxic behaviors and patterns at home or at work.
Taurus: Watch how you speak to yourself. Be gentle there.
Gemini: Adopt an abundance practice. Spend time with your budget.
Cancer: Are your relationships balanced? Also, if you put yourself last, stop it.
Leo: Slow down this lunation. Rest, relax, and then release what your subconscious unearths.
Virgo: Unresolved issues with friends may surface or friendships may be tested. Call on those you trust most for advice.
Libra: Clear out old belongings and junk. Also, do some shadow work and clear out your subconscious.
Scorpio: Get lost in a book. Start a daily reading practice.
Sagittarius: Losses and trauma may resurface. Confront this past pain with a therapist or mental-health practice.
Capricorn: Examine you committed relationships. Are there any unhealthy dynamics? You deserve to have your needs met.
Aquarius: Review your work-life balance. Kick a bad habit. Start your days in a healthy way (put that phone down!)
Pisces: What use to light you up as a child? Do more activities like that to bring yourself back into alignment.
Batten down the hatches! Run for cover! The sky is falling!
I’ll be under the bed where it’s safe. Text me if you need me.
These were my thoughts as I pulled my daily tarot cards on Tuesday.
The Tower? $#@%!!! That’s the worst card in the deck. And it’s the over-arching energy for the day?
Will I total my car? Is my best friend about to give me the heave-ho? Do I have undiagnosed polio?
Breathe, Toni. Breathe. Pull the next card. What should I focus on?
The 8 of Cups. Walking away. Whatever disaster is coming, I should focus on putting it behind me. Or maybe this card is saying to walk away from something before it all comes crashing down.
So, should I stay home? Dump my best friend before I get dumped? What if it is polio?
Maybe I should breathe into a paper bag before I pull the next card, what to avoid.
The 2 of Cups??? I should avoid deep connections? Flowing love? Intimacy?
My mind whirred the entire day. Should I worry about my son? My daughter? Were my granddaughters safe? My husband? When the hell was that Tower card about to turn my day upside down?
Why are we so quick to imagine the worst?
I don’t have a euphoric reaction of equal intensity when I pull the 9 of Cups, the card of wishes come true. My day isn’t spent wondering what extraordinary things are about to come my way. A book contract? A free vacation to New Zealand? A basket of delicious molasses cookies on my doorstep?
It turns out we’re hardwired that way.
Our early ancestors had to be on high alert at all times in order to survive. And although we no longer need to be hyper-vigilant, that negativity bias still has a starring role in how our brains operate. Unfortunately, this can have a detrimental impact on everything in our lives, from relationships, to decision-making, to even the way we perceive people and situations.
Are we doomed to be pessimists? Maybe. But that doesn’t mean we can’t choose optimism and positivity when we catch ourselves in a downward spiral of gloom.
Stop negative self-talk when it begins so it doesn’t start to shape your experience.
Reframe situations. Find a more positive light. Don’t put on rose-colored glasses, but refocus to give equal weight to good events.
Establish new patterns. If you start to spiral down, put on some upbeat music. Watch a comedy. Read a good book. Go for a walk. Text your funniest friend. Hell, you can text me.
Lastly, savor positive moments. It actually takes more effort for good experiences to be remembered. Stupid hard wiring. When you do have a great experience, give it extra attention.
A trick from neurolinguistic programming (NLP) is to feel the emotion of one of your most positive events. When that feeling is at its strongest, create a gesture like holding your thumb inside your fist or placing your hand on your heart. You want something you can do both easily and in public. Then, when you start to feel negativity creep in, all you have to do is that simple gesture to neutralize it.
So, what was my Tower moment that day? I got a cold (I hope it’s just a cold! Oops–there’s that negativity again). A bad cold could throw off an entire week. Or longer. I needed to focus on walking away from anything that was not serving me so that my immune system stayed strong. And yes, avoid close contact and intimacy. No sense spreading my germs around.
The Tower is also a reminder that I should pay attention to the cracks (or body aches) forming so that I can take action (or vitamin C) before things come crashing down.
Getting it wrong is part of getting it right. – Charles Handy
Week after week I’d set pen to paper and wind up discouraged and embarrassed.
I had joined a writers group when we were still all getting together and no one had yet heard of COVID. The facilitator would give us a prompt, or a picture, and give us ten minutes to write. Then a few brave members would share what they wrote.
I was never one of those intrepid souls.
Ernest Hemingway wrote and rewrote the ending to A Farewell to Arms thirty-nine times. You’ll never believe what had him stumped. He said the problem was “getting the words right.”
Long ago, I taught an introductory knitting class. Inevitably, there would be one or two new knitters who would get frustrated when they had to rip their work out for the third of fourth time.
That’s when I’d let them in on a secret. The only difference between beginning knitters and experienced knitters is that an experienced knitter knows she’s going to be ripping her work out multiple times.
R & D labs are the birthplace of many ideas that don’t pan out.
Evolution has shown us that homo sapiens didn’t spring up in its perfect form on the first mutation.
Who met the love of their life in junior high and never needed to date anyone else? Who still has the first job they ever took? Who is still using those same signature dance moves from way back when?
Which of us is proficient at anything the first time we try?
So why are we so reluctant to value our mistakes? Our shitty first drafts? Why can’t we be more like an R and D lab?
Mistakes are an essential part of an engaged life. A necessity.
No, no one wants to fail publicly. And knowing that we all do from time to time is cold comfort.
But we can learn to be more comfortable with our less-than-flawless efforts.
The first step is to not think everyone else’s efforts are perfect the first time.
They’re not.
The second is to not believe ours should be.
And so whenever I start a writing project, I take the advice of a member of the writers group I was in and I name it Shitty First Draft. It reminds me that I’m not the exception. That to create something of quality, I will have to change things, revise, and edit. Because getting it wrong is part of getting it right.
