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Dear Friends and Family,

Oh what a week! I witnessed (and documented) my first Martin Luther King Day March on Monday. Then I made meatloaf on Tuesday night for the gang (and it turns out that I’ve got mad meatloaf skills). I worked on caulking and painting the exterior of a house on Wednesday. On Thursday I went to my first Sissy Bounce event (and it turns out that I don’t have mad bounce skills). Finally, Friday was a relaxed day of cleaning around the volunteer house, then doing some filming of the Lower Ninth Ward (stay tuned for footage).

But one of the events that provided the most was the Full Moon Ceremony held in the backyard of Common Ground Relief.

I was invited to the ceremony by Edda, my recently acquainted kink/queer-identified Aussie friend. Edda is a peaceful divine Earth Goddess and a scrappy unapologetic, anarchist-leaning gender-equity advocate. She is equal parts romance and wrestling. In fact, in an attempt to satiate her desire for brawling, she’s attempted to tackle me on a couple of worksites for good-hearted wrestling sessions. Her love of full contact physical exertion is contagious, and has successfully challenged my “I don’t do contact sports” wimpiness. Needless to say, I’m a big fan of Edda, and her refusal to be anyone but herself.

But when she brought up the subject of a “Full Moon Ceremony,” I knew that, like many things in Edda’s life, it could go either way. My twenty-first century social conditioning has blessed/cursed me with a great deal of cynicism. Any activity involving “moon” and “ceremony” leaves me with notions of long-haired, flower clad pagans dancing around a fire chanting appropriated eastern mantras, which is all fine and dandy, but miles away from anything of which I’ve been able to spiritually relate.  These days, it seems my mystical moments are achieved when my blog analytics unexpectedly peak or when I’m retweeted by Lonely Planet.

So after humming and hawing over whether I’d attend, I pulled my arse out of my bunk bed, set the suspicion on the shelf and headed out to the backyard to see if meaningful moments might still exist outside of the World Wide Web. Besides, I told myself, deconstructing preconceived notions is what traveling is all about. My inner dialogue stating matter-of-factly, “Daniel, you are lame if you don’t try this.”

I arrived to a small handful of people sitting casually around the wheelbarrow-turned-fire pit. Edda had begun smudging people with sage, the smoke serving as a cleansing agent to the spirit. Upon settling into a squeaky wooden chair, I looked to my right and saw a small alter constructed of photos, candles, incense, fruit, flowers and trinkets. The setting felt ritualistic, but I was intrigued.

Edda began to speak:

“We gather at the full moon as people have since ancient times, on the brightest night of the month when the moon has come to end of its cycle. The moon has a major impact on the tides, women’s fertility cycle, human behavior, the growth of plants – well everything under the moon really. It’s helpful to pay attention to the moon’s power so we can better harness its energies and consciously work with the shifts this celestial body affects. By honoring the moon, we honor the passing of time, focus on the sacred in our lives and celebrate being a human being on this earth.”

With these words, and the calming glow of the fire, the space felt safe, and dare I say, sacred.  And I couldn’t help but loving the intention of the moment, especially the deliberate celebration of “being a human being on this earth.” In my pre-traveling day-to-day life, this was never done.

The service moved forward. We were each invited to write down on a piece of paper an intention that we’d like to explore, a wish that we’d like to send out to the universe or anything we might like to purge (things that no longer serve us). Mine came easily, and I scribbled onto a piece of construction paper the following three unorganized sentiments:

1)   Balance between documenting and experiencing
2)   Gratitude for the replenished feeling that’s been resonating
3)   Health for my family and loved ones

We were invited to voice our list, if we cared to share, or to simply throw our papers into the fire. I spoke briefly of my three expressions, and then threw my document to the flames, watching it momentarily shine extra light on the faces of my ceremonious colleagues. As a contribution, I passed my bottle of Johnnie Walker around the fire. People cheers’ed the moon and took unabashedly ceremonious swigs.

We then were invited to draw oracle cards. The Volunteer Coordinator Denise, who had suggested the ceremony in the first place, presented her “Goddess Guidance Cards,” which were a selection of forty-four goddesses from various spiritual practices around the world. I drew Maat, the Egyptian goddess of integrity, fairness and justice. She brings order to chaos, and advocates for honesty and truthfulness in social interactions. I continue to ponder the possibilities of Maat and her potential messages, hesitant to attribute too much meaning, yet curious to see how the suggestive element might expand my thinking. I’m going to need to get back to you on this one.

We shared our oracle cards with each other, laughing and sending our whiskied salutations to the moon. Edda closed the ceremony with a final blessing. I continued to linger around the fire; happy to feel it’s warmth on the chilly evening, happy to have made the choice to show up.

And in the end, I guess it didn’t matter if the Full Moon Ceremony was flaky or if it was profound. What mattered most to me was sitting around a fire in the company of people with open hearts, in the company of people who intentionally celebrate “being” on this planet.

And I suppose there would be no harm should I decide to party with the moon more frequently.

Cheers, my darling Edda, and my darling moon.

* takes a swig *

xoxo

Daniel

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