I find the winter moon waxing to flood the frozen landscape with light to be the most unsettling. Dormancy is stirred out of comfort in the days before fullness, stirring the detritus of old wounds in the dreamtime in vivid reenactments. But it is during the waxing that we can discover what we are still holding inside of us that seeks for release.
Release, by definition implies ease, but freeing what we are accustomed to holding close is never easy. It requires a trust and surrender that we are not used to embracing. It requires finding a wellspring of promise that unsettles the fortitude of the structure of armor we have we created to define the self. Even though we may not like this creation of self.
Winter is the season of dreams. Governed by the element of water, it stirs the darkness of creation into life in the long cold nights. It is a time of processing the old into the form of our choosing as we move into the budding, growth phase of spring. Winter’s reign is long here in the north. Its breath is so cold, it causes harm to the living body that lingers outside of the haven of hibernation. It is meant to test the endurance of life; this will to survive and even thrive, come spring.
When the moon turns its full face away from Earth and beings to wan, relief trickles through our dreams, offering a glimpses of the inner sun. It is here, after we face the unsetting reminders of what binds us in stagnation, that we can see the promise of rebirth in whatever form we choose to stir into creation. I always look forward to the waning phase of the moon after the fitful nights of waxing, which bring the phantoms of my past out to play. In the waning, I can see the potential. The atmospheric landscape of dreams softens, making images more difficult to recall upon waking, but this softening holds a warmth of light not found in the stark light of the full moon. When the inner sun begins to take reign the magic of the self unfolds. See me, it whispers, I am here. Give me the nourishment I need to grow.
I fell asleep to water. Outside the walls of my home, a storm of thunder and lightning raged its energy, working to cleanse the atmosphere of the heavy humidity from the day. On the shelf beside my bed was the just closed book by Sue Vincent and Dr. G. Michael Vasey, The Mystical Hexagram. My left hand rested on the arm of my husband, as I silently sent energies to lift the heavy weight of water I felt within him, knowing as I did, that what one sees or feels in others, one also has within.
There is a reason that water is both heavy and healing. It is the element that both stores our emotions and releases them when we are ready. Have you ever noticed how some people appear heavier than others, not just physically, but emotionally. That idea of “carrying the weight of the world,” on one’s shoulders, or at least the weight of the past. An imbalance, or (dis)ease, within the body is usually the result of stored emotions.
We are made mostly of water, that element of emotions. So is the earth. Just like us, Earth needs to cleanse and release when density builds. Sometimes, like last night, she cries fierce tears. It behooves us to do the same. Sometimes we need to weep, or have a “good fit,” of release, in order to heal and rid our bodies of our stored emotions. When we do, we feel better, we feel lighter. After Earth weeps, the air we breathe is less dense.
In my dreams, I was standing inside my house with my husband, watching lines of water pour through the roof. A discouraging dream, you might say, but it became one of empowerment. There was the tiger who leapt from the shelf, filling the room with the energy of creation and power. Out of the emotional element of water, we can create. Sometimes this takes a spark of fire – the element that overlaps the triangle of water to create the “mystical hexagram” that Sue and Dr. Vasey have written a book about.
In Tarot, the element of water is often portrayed with the chalice – a symbol of feminine wisdom and creation. The Queen of Cups in the Rider deck is one of my favorite cards, it shows us that anything is possible when we go within and create from those sacred waters of the soul.
Rider Queen of Cups
To do this, we need to release, to bring forth those energies stored within the water of our emotions, and us them to create our individual gifts, such are writing, art, music, etc. This is where life emerges out of stagnation. Consider a vernal pool holding winter’s melt. The life that is birthed within those still waters does not stay for long. Compare this to a lake continually fed by the moving waters of a mountain river. Here, oxygenated life flourishes and cycles repeatedly through the phases of birth, death and rebirth.
Close your eyes and imagine standing near, or in, a stagnant pool of water, then a lake, a river, a waterfall and the ocean. The energy of water changes profoundly. What is the water in your body like?
When I woke at 2:40am, I needed to pee. Quite literally I had the urge to relieve myself of the water held inside my bladder. You could also say that I was clearing the water of that leaking house in my dream. Although I have done a lot of healing of myself, with the help of some wonderful healers, I am not wholly free of the clutches of water. Sometimes it builds and calls for release.
We not only carry the water of our own emotions, we literally carry the water of the World’s. Our bodies are made from Earth’s elements, we require these shared energies to sustain our existence, recycling our waste to be reused in another form, in another body that shares our home. Water cycles through bodies, it travels through the ground and is expired into the air as vapor. The element collects into clouds and comes back down with gravity. Water remembers where its been, it can only exist when it joins with other water molecules.
In this way, water carries both weight and wisdom. When we learn how to work with the emotional element of water, we become gifted creators and healers. We rediscover, or release, hidden truths and wisdom. Water can carry us to the fiercest places within, and it can also cleanse us of our sorrows and fears, especially when we add a little light.
The Light Behind the Story 