Taurus New Moon Blessings
A moment for Mother Nature
Dearest Reader,
I'm up at 6 am on a Sunday just to make sure I have time for my nature walk before my 9 am yoga class because I can think of no better way to honor the Taurus new moon than to commune with the Great Mother, to kneel at her arboreal altar. I have been walking as morning medicine for so long that if I forgo the walk for whatever reason, I will find myself out of sorts for the rest of the day. It doesn't matter that it's cold and rainy today or that I have a myriad other tasks to accomplish—the walk is mandatory just as much as it's meditation.
When I lived in Los Angeles, I would walk a 1.5 mile radius of my apartment, expertly avoiding construction sites and sanitation trucks, listening to cosmic chants and mindfulness meditations to bring my dysregulated city-living nervous system into alignment. If I rose early enough to get outside before the city stirred, I ditched the headphones and walked to the blissful symphony of breeze and birds and Gaia’s gentle awakening. I never could have imagined that one day soon I would walk each morning in the woods, most often without encountering another human being, and instead accompanied by black-tailed deer and orange-bellied newts.
I have been walking these woods for eight months now and the awe of it has yet to wear off; I hope and I imagine and I pray that it never will.
When I first moved out to the country in August, the landscape was in the sweltering depths of NorCal summer, with temperatures in the triples and mosquitos in full effect. But, because I never neglect my Hag Girl walks, regardless of weather or geography, I explored on foot until I found what is now my daily 2-3 mile nature walk. I remember, in those early days, feeling bereft of the color that was abundant in the landscaping of my LA neighborhood, seeing nothing but green for miles. It was a blessing, of course, to trade the curated nature of my neighbors front lawns for the untamed terrain of pines and oaks, but I still I wondered: would I find this wilderness replete with wildflowers come spring? Would I one day see some color in these verdant hills?
Summer brought plump, wild blackberries picked from the vine, autumn turned the leaves and ripened figs for the taking, winter shed the oaks and maples bare and still, in the rain and the hail and the chill of it all, I walked. I walked beneath the wild geese and the mountain quail. I walked as a witness to the transformation of this landscape through every season. I walked as if my feet kissed the ground1 and I appreciated what each shapeshifting era had to offer, the slow and patient process of this forest. Now that the Foothills have fully awakened to spring, I have the answer to my erstwhile query, and it has taken my breath away.
Earlier this week I stumbled upon a meadow of Douglas Lupines and Bowl-tubed Irises right here on the 3 acre property where I live. I’ve spotted the pale speckled stems of the Yarrow and the golden petals of the California Poppy along the route that I enjoy the privilege of walking each day because I forsake the city. I’ve seen the delicate droop of the Fairy Lanterns and watched the Buckeyes leaf out, their white flowered stalks promising to emerge any day now. I am perpetually grateful and equally astounded that I don’t have to drive anywhere to immerse myself in Gaia’s bounty—that I can reach it on foot within moments.
I gave up a lot to be here, and I know, beyond all doubt, that it was worth it just to watch these wildflowers bloom.
Invitations + Offerings:
Please join me tonight at 5pm PT for Tarot reading, spell casting, and intention setting in my monthly community gathering. Tickets for the Taurus New Moon Circle are on a sliding scale basis (as little as $5) and the event will be recorded.
Coming this July, my brand new book, Underneath the Same Big Sky, featuring many of the essays that made their debut here on Chronically Chill. My eighth book is a midlife metamorphosis, and I would be honored if you’d reserve a copy to add to your sacred library.
“Walk as if you are kissing the Earth with your feet.” ―Thich Nhat Hanh
A spring benediction. Thank you.
It's funny, I recently started shifting my routine to include morning walks as well, in an attempt to regulate my nervous system while living in a city (until I'm able to move). Reading this reminded me that this feeling won't last forever and that one day not only will I be feeling better, there's a chance that I, too, will continue this practice in an environment more aligned with my spirit. Thank you for this confirmation 🙏🏽💜