This energy is insane. It can drive you nuts. You’ve heard about what a full moon does to the tides, women’s menstrual cycles (especially if they sleep under the stars), and plants? You’ve also heard about how it messes with people’s minds.
That’s what a lunatic is. The moon has made them crazy.
In tales, humans shape-shift into howling wolves. Witches populate the night. All this occurs just beyond the restrained, fearful village. The inhabitants quiver in barricaded cottages, eyes as big as saucers, prickly sensations running over their skin. It’s chilling and eerie, yet inexplicably enticing and fascinating.
It’s a pulling force. That big old milky orb is pulling at everything: making huge waves, blood flow, plants grow, and our civilized, contained veneer slips when out of us is pulled a primal desire to follow a mystery, a secret, a force we cannot explain or understand.
Who wades, as if sleepwalking, across the river, up that path, passed two howling dogs, through ancient, imposing stone pillars, following a glowing moon that keeps everything in shadow, but throws out just enough light to lure us?
Just like the crab who leaves the safety of the water to scuttle on dry land, we get pulled out of our comfort zone by the beckoning moon. We push past our fear and walk through our terror, learning to trust our own calling and cross our Moon River, albeit bloody scary.
Nothing is as it seems under moonlight. Objects are misshapen. Peering into the bushes is a markedly different experience when done under the light of Moon. At night you don’t see what’s about to jump out at you. It’s crouching in the shadows.
Spooky and unsettling. You know there’s something going on but you’re kept in the dark. You can feel it’s about to pounce, but what is it, who is it?
The Moon’s job is not to reveal the mystery, secret, or behind-the-scenes developments. Her job (she is a feminine energy) is to get you to first base, to accept there is a mystery, or something going on.
It’s the classic sitting ’round the fire in the desert under the moon when animal noises make you jittery and you move closer to the flames to hastily throw a few more logs on it scene. You can’t see what’s going on beyond the orange pool of firelight. You don’t know what you’re going to get. Trouble? A happy surprise, like the return of your lost dog? (as we see in movies)
You’re overemotional, crying, and you have no idea why. By tugging at your emotions, pulling them to the surface, Ms Moon gets your attention. You’re puzzled. You think to yourself ‘what in heaven’s name is this all about?’ She wants you to lift your puffy face to her fully ripened one and say ‘OK, I don’t know what this is, but there’s something afoot and I just have to wait for it to come to light.‘
It can be confusing and induce fear.
What does it mean, here, on the ground floor of life?
- someone is hiding something
- avoid jumping to conclusions, or filling in the blanks. Why?
- you don’t have all the facts. There’s something you’re not aware of, or the situation is developing in ways you cannot guess, predict, or comprehend
- you feel uncomfortable, or you feel something brewing (good or bad,) but you can’t figure out what to do. Tip: do nothing at this point
- you have a funny notion to follow a path that feels out of character, one that will take you where you’ve never been, and it scares the beep out of you, but you’re going anyway. You’re conquering your fear of the unknown
Obviously, question the wisdom of signing contracts, entering agreements, making important life changes, marrying the man you met only three weeks ago, if you feel Ms Moon pulling strings behind her white veil. Sit on your hands if it helps.
You have a hunch something is up at the office, but you feel stupid because it’s a feeling, and there is no evidence of anything being different. Your intuition, your primal, animalistic gut, tells you one thing and so-called evidence cancels it out.
If you pull The Moon card that night, she’s saying (my feeling) ‘You don’t know what’s happening, but I’m telling you you’re right. There are developments, but now is not the time for them to be revealed. Hang in there, and everything will become clear.’
It drives you crazy.
If you decide that the odd feeling you have about what’s going on in the office has a lot to do with retrenchment, and you hand in your notice because you’re not waiting for the chop, thank you very much, you’ve not listened to Ms Moon.
She told you your feeling was right. She also told you that you don’t have all the facts, so don’t do anything until things come to light (when the sun rises).
You pack your personal belongings in a box (as we see in the movies), walk down the corridor for the last time, only to be informed by your now ex-boss (as he opens the swing door for you) that they don’t know who to give the promotion and leap-frogging pay rise to now that you’re leaving. You were going to get the corner office with a view and a personal assistant (as we see in the movies).
Ms Moon hangs her pale face, and you turn a whiter shade of pale. You didn’t wait for clarity. You let fear and confusion inform your decision making.
This card can also signal the acceptance and embracing of our entire being.
Our wild and domesticated nature (brown and white dog) find a happy balance, and we express our deepest, secret self. We shape-shift and run in a wolf body by night, allowing our wildness to howl. We fly on our broom, freeing a cackle as we whiz past Ms Moon. By day we go about the business of societal living.
You’re pulled by Ms Moon to express yourself. It’s a private, creative, wildly satisfying antidote to the constrained, civilized, respectable side of life.
You play air guitar in the living room, jumping on the sofa, rattling your brains and the neighbors eardrums. Wild and free. On Monday you’re in the board meeting, looking tame and caged.
The Moon is about pulling to the surface the instincts and primal knowledge inside all of us.
It’s also about that which hides in the shadows being drawn out to face the light of day; the good, the bad and the ugly.
In the meantime, give those trembling, adrenaline-pumped villagers a story to tell. Fly on a broom and howl at Ms Moon. She loves a good mystery.