The wide berth of this solar “berg”- Navigating the Cancerian new moon.

The voice of the sea, speaks to the soul.

Chopin

Yesterday I felt an overwhelming urge to write a blog.

Inundated by insights regarding the new moon eclipse tonight in the emotional waters of cancer I tuned into my own internal feelings.

So much going on.

So much information there, healing, potential, so may stories.

 

Did I want to go back into the depths of it all, did I need to emerge again with the same fluid coursing through my subconscious?

I left it.

Fully awake to the message of flow, rocking the inspiration, enabling it to build momentum.

I changed course, observing rather than being, the spray around me.

Yet it stayed with me.

yearning to travel the expedition of something, my life perhaps, a curiosity to SEA what was “out there!”

 

Was I alone, shipwrecked or could I truly find “land ahoy”, a chance to ground, in the streams of change?

I saw many posts, opinions, perspectives of what was occurring in the briny depths collectively, I could feel my own waves forming, my own ego wanting to surf this awareness.

And yet I held back.

Experiencing the rise of old tides within me.

I hadn’t voyaged enough to make a difference, my treks were far from swashbuckling, my adventures calm and still in comparison to the choppy drenches around me.

Who would want to hear my tales of undertaking.

Drowning in my own creative potential, I, as guided, drove to the local beach.

It was one thing to intuitively understand what was occurring, another to be part of it physically.

Necessary to the map of life and unencountered territories I began to realise the importance of different routes, for myself and other wanderers, that could only occur by floating in the nautical noise around me.

 

Taking four inscribed pebbles from my Altar and the energy that had been accumulating within them for the last year alongside unseen “work” anchored into the Earth, I surrendered to the flow of my higher “skipper”.

Stopping at the local supermarket I collected a journal, deciding against writing in the third tense I longed to no longer bear witness to my life but become it.

As drawn, I placed the “hope” stone between the notepads emblazoned with promising positive messages of change.

Queuing to purchase the sunflowers for my next “hidden” 9-day healings, I rose above the high current of embarrassment and gifted “love” to the cashier, ebbing back into the invisible shore of my own existence.

En route to providing “laughter” for my husband, I placed “live” upon a bench outside a woman’s refuge and found myself finally at my own destination.

Life.

The physical manifestation of my internal periscope.

 

Sat on a returned coast of pebbles, expansive in their potential, I shut down the laptop obstructing the view in front of me and removed my metaphorical shades to truly appreciate the horizon, not only considering what was around me, but pondering what might lie beyond the limits of my own vision.

I felt great serenity, not only in myself but the surrounding receding mental marine, nothing but the light from the returning sun shining upon it.

Reflecting all the qualities available yet possibly missing during this eclipse:
Clarity
Transparency
Warmth
Love.

Leaving a note of encouragement beneath the sands, I knew with great certainty that divine timing would connect the magic of these words and the love with which they were given, as needed.

 

These bearings were my own flag, a chance to say I too am searching for hope, working for love, seeking a living, needing a laugh and like whoever finds my suggestions, am worthy to be on this life liner.

I may not receive critical acclaim or win awards, but I can aid someone to believe in who they are and their own passage, in turn re-directing me to be my own beacon.

Now, twenty-four hours later, I am here, writing something I had felt, like the river of knowing within me.

 

Sharing it with the hope, love, and essence of living and laughter, both at myself, and my navigation to get here but also the steering of an ocean far greater than myself, that it reaches anyone that has become lost at sea.

Guided not held back, by my ancestors, the voyagers before me that have traveled these shores, I am responsive to the potential chaos of this lunar episode.

Flowing through my veins, with this cycle I am reminded not to sink in their mishaps but surface upon the beams of their shoulders knowing I am supported not to journey their path but drift my own course with their blessings.

 

Indeed, this new moon will bring upsurges of change, that’s what moons do, they influence the tides within and around us!

For some, the vision of 20:20 nearing will clear the mist of what was once their port of call, for others, this may indeed cause internal flooding or an opportunity to abandon ship.

There are plenty of charts available from many sources to aid this discovery.
Each plot valid, adding wind to the sails of our journey.

 

But it is up to the sailor, you, as an individual amongst the vast deep life, which direction you take and why and how you embark on the voyage.

Often there are twists and turns, surf of influence, impressionable white caps.

Nonetheless, you have within you a lifeboat, a buoy, your intuitive diagram, that knows exactly where you are going.

It is your choice to decide whether to travel to new sights, the treasure of being seen, truly, by yourself within the journey, or bob along for someone else to rescue you.

 

You can label the coordinates how you choose: The compass of Karmic clearing, inner child landmarks, twin flame trends or the scope of the soul, it really doesn’t matter, if it is viewed for what it is, an iceberg opportunity.

Not to ignore and crash into, or chip away at, knowing you will never truly reach the bottom but to take the helm of your own life, craft your own wheel and pass through the storms.

 

Crossing the awareness of observation into the bottomless promise of experiencing.

stepping into the Captain of your own vessel, knowing in doing so you become the lighthouse for so many others.

 


The past bow or future stern, only you can decide to shed caution to the wind or recognise the ropes you know!


 

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