"Mom, is there like a New Moon or something?"
Eli (my 10 year old) was filled with energy and spunk. He wasn't able to settle down.
"Yes, tomorrow, the most amazing New Moon of the year, the start of the astrological New Year. You can feel it huh?"
He started piling pillows up and throwing his body on top of them.
"Yep. I feel happy and alive and I don't think I can sleep tonight. That's how I always know it is a New Moon."
He is also the one who tells us stories of turning into a werwolf every Full Moon and going on adventures.
We got out all the cardboard I had been saving. Magazines. Lucas (the 7 year old) got us all glue sticks and scissors. They know I make one every year on the Aries New Moon, but it isn't something that they have ever really asked about. Vision boards are part of their life and their visual experience in our home. I have traditionally hung the Aries Moon Board in the kitchen. The space where I spend the most time.
This year the board is all about space. A familiar mantra and desire.
I have spent months talking myself out of the dreams that I hold. First feeling the disappointment that they weren't going to come when I hoped.
Then, realizing my dreams were deeply connected to another. And this is when things get sticky.
Inside of all the feelings I ended up in California sitting in circle with a group of women magically loving our lives inside of a New Moon circle.
And I was reminded of something.
How powerful my dreams become when I focus on what I want with no other stories in the way. When I manifest the hell out of my life by seeing where I am going and then feeling it. Feeling it every day.
When I commune with the Universe and we talk vibration and I am clear and grounded and allowing my intuition to fill me up; this is when it becomes.
I am returning to my knowing. To how I got to where I sit now. Instead of worrying about anyone else, I am thinking about me. Knowing what I want after I ask myself and she connects to a future part of herself for the download.
If I am connected to my dreams, I can love deeper, harder, stronger.
I know how and who I want to love. I know that I am ready for a new home. I know that the kitchen is the most important room in the home for me. I know that I am in love with my mothering and my loving. I know that nurturing is my jam. I know that new space is about to be a part of my life.
I know that I was terrified of the dreams that aren't ready. I didn't know what to hold onto until I remembered that dreams don't die. They simply change form. And when we hold them inside of pure faith and focus not on what isn't but on what will be everything changes.
He told me on our year anniversary that the most surprising thing about me for him was how I mother. Not just my kids or his kids. But him. And women. And everyone. He said that I am like mother earth.
And it is that woman who is dreaming tonight. It is that woman, connected to the earth through how she mothers, that is going to manifest her new life. Because she is powerful in ways the future only knows, and sends signs that this is all so right.
All through the house with a golden aura around her.
The art of our love is my business.
Gently down, every so often.
Simply make it bigger. So, farmhouse made with love.
Tale of a house.
I had made a very personal decision.
Let it rain.
In the sunset kitchen.
Chapter 3. Romance.
Into one revolutionary jar.
In one week. Dreams.
I was in love, she explained.
I am in love with my dreams that aren't ready. They are gorgeous and glowing and vibrating inside of me. They are layered. And the timing isn't mine, but the faith behind them and the nurture to make them true are.
The surprises inside of the images and the words will be my magic this year. I can't wait to see what is going to unfold.
I will lay my dreams gently down, every so often, and remember what I knew.
How powerful we are when we know, really know, what we want. And then stay open to the half of the calling forth that isn't ours, that belongs to the vibration that is our feeling inside the dreams.