To be seen, the moon needs the sun

I'm writing this love note to you under the full moon in Sagittarius, just a few days shy of the summer solstice -- ooo, such a potent time! The summer solstice is to the seasonal cycle what the full moon is to the lunar cycle, and we're sitting in BOTH in this moment. The current energy is expansive, bright, outward, fiery, fulfilled, and visible in full radiance -- the polar opposite of my winter solstice birthday. Perhaps my being a winter solstice baby has me leaning more toward the inward, the mystery, and the unseen. This week is the flipside of what I was born into, and for me it feels healing right now to bask in the full moon reflecting the strong midsummer sun. (We wouldn't see her face otherwise. ☀️🌕 )

In all this celestial brightness, I had a very recent experience in realizing how I am seen through the caring reflection of others. Not unlike these heavenly bodies, we often need one another to adequately see ourselves. I want to share the experience with you, as I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in this. Large groups are challenging for me, so this summer I'm pushing that growing edge in myself by assisting in a 4-month group ceremony that I underwent 2 summers ago. When in groups, I can clearly see the offerings of others, and I compare my contributions as more diffuse, thus less valuable. While holding space for these new participants, I am noticing that what I offer in the group looks different than what others offer -- and instead of making that wrong, I'm recognizing the rightness of it. 

After our first group weekend, my mentors and colleagues mirrored back to me how they saw my unique medicine come alive in the group space. The gift of their reflection is allowing me to shatter some very old self-judgments. My inner critic gets loud about how I show up in groups. She wags her finger, saying I'm too quiet at first, too awkward and fumbly when I do come forward, too small and too passive. Hearing from peers allowed me to shift my disapproval to a more honoring, accepting place about what is actually happening. Being the winter witch that I am, my soul generally rests in the darker places, on the edge of my village, on the edge of a group. A highly-sensitive empath, I see and feel into what is happening from this place. I shift into a slightly altered state as I energetically tend to what is needed in a group. I seep into the cracks, shoring them up, like the liquid gold in kintsugi pottery. I form connections and create offerings quietly, privately, behind the scenes. 

I've been hard on myself for this before, worried that I was supposed to have just the right verbal responses formed or just the right concrete offering ready at the tip of my tongue and my fingers. Some people do that so elegantly, but that's not my flavor of medicine. I need to hang in my liminal open perceptive space, stir my cauldron patiently, and offer my colorful magic once it is fully brewed. I'm learning that not only is this necessary, but is often the way various types of medicine people (witches, shaman, sorceresses) behave in community. I'm beginning to welcome my own way of being. The energy we emit simply by unapologetically walking in our truths has the power to invite others to fully be their authentic selves, while creating connection in the process. And that really is the crux of what I desire to radiate and experience in this world. 

In the spirit of this bright and awakened time of year, I am shining light into this dark place to honor and more fully step into my way of being. Which of your shadows are you being expressly called to illuminate this week?