Full moon lessons and learnings
Well that was certainly a memorable full moon, up there with my waters breaking on the super full moon in October 2016, while in the middle of a yoga retreat on Herm. This time we were on Sark and camping, this when a significant storm was forecast for our first night…
I hadn’t really given it too much thought to be honest, the weather reports are frequently incorrect at the moment, and sometimes these storms can drift offshore, plus E was perfectly contented to go ahead with our camping plans, so the impending storm seemed insignificant somehow.
Perhaps though on some level I had a sense, because knowing that we would be on Sark on the full moon, I had planned a trip to one of the spiritual sites, but as it got closer and I saw the forecast, I ended up communing and celebrating with the moon the day before instead, on Guernsey at a moon temple of sorts instead. This was amazing actually, as the skies were so clear and the moon so bright and there was definitely a message around trust, surrender and love coming up.
Little did I realise how much this message would be validated the next night, as the moon waxed towards peak, due 2.32am on the Saturday morning. Friday evening though, found us by then on Sark, tent up at La Vallette, a beautiful campsite albeit exposed to easterly winds. The storm was ushering in winds from the east as luck would have it, but I didn’t think too much of this as I settled under the duvet on the inflatable mattress, Eben beside me, both of us asleep almost immediately as it was 10pm by then.
11pm and E woke me with a start, shining his torch and telling me that we had a problem, the tent was being buffeted to the extent that the side closest to him had collapsed in. I looked at it, wondering initially how we might move away from that side and huddle towards Eben and I, but then the dawning reality hit – the tent pole was broken and the rain was literally pouring in, and the rest of the tent was about to collapse in and us and we had the children asleep to protect. I knew immediately then that we were screwed, so to speak, I think I might have used a stronger word at the time.
It was a panic then, Elijah was soon awake and terrified, as I tried to bundle a heavy and sleeping Eben into my arms and grabbed the double duvet and a blanket, and then attempted to find the zip to open the door of the tent, feeling panicked myself now about the possibility of not being able to find my way out of the tent, given the relentless nature of the wind, and now the thunder and lightening cracking literally overhead.
I managed to unzip the door and forced myself out into the torrential rain and the battering winds, E with Elijah behind me, and we ran towards the barn, barefoot, feeling as if we were running through a stream of water and mud. Elijah ran off the wrong way, and E had to go grab him, as I sprinted for the barn, Eben heavy in my arms and trying to keep a hold of the duvet and blanket too.
In the darkness of the barn, I had a sense of where the hay bales were located as I’d strangely had a look earlier that day when I was trying to find somewhere to dry our wet towels. I didn’t really think what I was doing, as I threw the duvet on the dirty floor for us to huddle on, Elijah shivering with terror, as Eben was still sleepily held against me. I covered us with the blanket, while E set off back to the tent to see if he could retrieve our other duvet, which he did, now virtually soaking wet.
But it kept us warm to an extent, comforted against the elements, as he headed off again, this time to grab our bag of clothes, fortunately contained within our one waterproof bag (I shall be forever grateful for my decision to spend the money to buy this bag), and the electronics and whatever else he could hold in his hands. By then the lightening was literally lightening the sky and I was terrified for his safety as much as I was for us huddled together, not really having a clue what we were going to do, Elijah demanding a quick resolution.
In his soaking wet boxers and t-shirt, E headed off to the main house and awoke the poor owner who was asleep in her chair at the time. I don’t believe she had any idea what was happening outside, but directed us to the one and only family pod, which was fortunately free at the time. E came and collected us and we ran as quickly as we could in the darkness and the rain and wind, still the thunder and lightning crashing overhead, to the pod, a short distance from the barn.
I can’t tell you the relief to make it into the pod and feel safe. The adrenalin was coursing through my veins by then and I set about immediately changing the children into dry clothes. It quickly became apparent though that we still had a problem as the pod was only equipped with 4 inflatable mattresses and no bedding. Our bedding was drenched and the best I could find in the clothes bag was two children’s towels and a scarf.
E set back off to the tent to retrieve torches and to visit his mum who was in the tent next to us, a smaller and more aerodynamic tent, which was able to weather the storm, like every other tent on the campsite, bar another family who decamped into their friend’s bell tent. E’s mum was understandably concerned and terrified herself by the cracking and thundering overhead and as I was attempting to settle the boys in their thin towels, she was soon also in the pod with us.
Being such a kind soul, she gave us her warm sleeping bag, which we were able to stretch over most of the four of us (E and I had half each, on the end as we were, all of us squeezed onto 2 inflatable mattresses). My mother in law lay on one of the inflatable mattresses and all of us attempted to go to sleep. My mother in law though couldn’t stop chatting and E was trying to quieten her and all of a sudden I began hysterically giggling, a form of release form all the adrenalin. I was also struggling to process what had just happened and knew that sleep was unlikely.
It hit me actually, how I had said only hours earlier to a soul friend by text, that I wouldn’t be doing to celebrate the full moon on Sark as I was tired and the weather wet and I needed to prioritise time for processing, reading and family. Here I was now, very much reminded of the sacredness of family and also the necessity for allowing time for processing. I have a habit of over scheduling and never properly allowing time for the processing, not least of the work done with clients, but also the work done on myself.
But the family actually, was a very necessary reminder. Eben’s 4-year old testosterone boost has been challenging us on many levels, as I have also been navigating an end to breastfeeding after 4 years and nine months, not only in terms of what this means for Eben and I as we move to another stage of our relationship as mother and son, but also in terms of the hormonal shifts that this transition brings with it. At times he has been like a lightning storm in our home, wreaking havoc on everyone, especially his sensitive and gentle older brother.
Huddled together, dry and safe, I was reminded that nothing else was actually important. I couldn’t help thinking of Syrian refugees who have had to endure fleeing war torn lands and literally walk for their lives, stuck in refugee camps, living hand to mouth. I honestly don’t know how they survive such an experience night after night. And yet I sort of do, because a deep drive for survival kicks in, to protect the lives of your family and yourself. Nothing else is important, possessions are meaningless, they come and go. But family, that’s different. It’s a very old energy that comes up from the root chakra to survive and protect.
I can’t be sure I slept. At some point the storm drifted away, my mother-in-law returned to her tent for warmer clothes, I tossed and turned, it was impossible to get comfortable and an effort to stay warm. I couldn’t have been happier then when the new day dawned, it was only 5.10am by then but I was in desperate need for tea. Tea helps everything. Tea has saved me on many an occasion, late night travels in foreign lands, traipsing up Mount Everest, the shock of birth and motherhood, the loss of loved ones. And now, a campsite on Sark. Tea made it all ok again.
We surveyed the wreckage of our tent and everything soaking wet. While we waited for the kindly owner of the campsite to wake up there was nothing else to do but head for an early morning high tide swim, another necessary grounding experience. Back at the campsite the owner offered to attempt to dry our bedding, confirming we could stay in the pod for the next night too (we were booked to attend a festival and didn’t want to give up and go home, we love Sark!). I shall always be grateful for the kindness she showed us
Later that day the moon confirmed more of her full moon teachings and lessons. Elijah and I joined my soul Sark friend for a trip to Grand Greve for a swim and ramble. As we walked towards the Coupee we could see heavy skies over Jersey and I commented that I hoped that the weather wasn’t heading our way. My Sark friend said there was a possibility it might blow further south, and I hoped for that.
But alas, no, the horrendous weather headed our way and it wasn’t long before the rain started falling and we found ourselves having little choice but to huddle in a cave to shelter from the worst of it. We thought it might ease but it just got worse, so after a time we accepted that unless we wanted to stay in the cave all afternoon we were probably going to have to face the torrential rain and get off the beach. Of course we managed a quick sea swim first!
Leaving the beach was certainly an interesting experience, my Sark friend had never seen anything like this before on Sark. The rain run-off water was literally pouring down the steep steps reminding Elijah and I of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’s liquid chocolate. Only this was sadly not chocolate and there was the concern of a land slipe as the cliff face is unsteady on that beach, as it is on many of the Sark beaches, we have seen rock falls.
But alas we made it to the top unscathed, albeit drenched through even in our water proofs! My Sark friend suggested we might return with her to her house for a bath and a change of clothes and whereas usually I would reject such an offer of help, not wanting to inconvenience her and because of my fierce independence, but alas I was so cold and so wet that I actually accepted her offer of help and I’m so pleased I did.
So while E waited out the rain in the pod with Eben and his mum, Elijah and I enjoyed a lovely bath, a picnic in the lounge, and clean clothes. Even this was a liberating experience, to wear clothes that were not my own, this when I got beyond the trigger of clothing sizing, a hangover from my eating-disorder days. It helped me to see this too from a different perspective, as my Sark friend is an inspiration in only buying clothes from charity shops, my mission for this 47th year (to not buy any new clothes that is).
I recognised that the moon has ushered in a healing to the root chakra. This chakra is like Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, ensuring that we have food to eat, clothes to wear, shelter above our heads and can continue the species – survival individually and collectively as human beings. This strips away all the crap around what we’re eating, wearing and living in, the fundamental issue is about whether what we’re eating, wearing and living in is keeping us nourished, warm, dry and safe.
It also wasn’t lost on me that my yoga teacher has been taking me on a journey to receive more of the upper arm bones in the shoulder joints and the thigh bones in the hips, so that I can find more of my centre and freedom of spine and mind. I definitely felt more freedom than I have felt for a long time and it struck me as I cycled back to the campsite yesterday that freedom and love are all that really matters, to me at least. Freedom of speech, freedom in love, freedom of mind, freedom to live from heart etc.
I have to say that I felt incredibly nurtured and nourished by all the help received, and extremely free too, liberated, because of all this was very reminiscent of my full moon experience in Herm, where I was reminded that the universe always has our back and will always support us when we surrender and trust. I had no choice but to trust and go with the flow. My faith had been deepened and I felt extremely calm and comforted by this as I had done when my waters broke all those years ago.
It was only later that it also dawned on me that there was another lesson that I was being encouraged to learn. Two weeks previously when we had visited Sark for Sark Fest, I had visited the charity shop as I love to do. A book jumped out at me, as has happened previously, there’s something about this place! Last time it was just days before the first lockdown when I was running a yoga retreat on Sark and stress levels were high the virus was a real risk.
In the charity shop a book jumped out called ‘The Game of Life and How to Play it” by Florence Shinn. Iopened the book by chance on page 51 and there in front of me were written these exact words:
“Perhaps one’s fear is of disease or germs. Then one should be fearless and undisturbed in a germ-laden situation, and he would be immune. One can only contract germs while vibrating at the same rate as the germ, and fear drags men down to the level of the germ”. It was totally relevant at the time and I have taken much comfort in that ever since.
This time the book was about receiving love, which was pertinent as I had recently been discussing this with a soul friend; how much easier it is at times to give love rather than receive it. I had been reading the book on and off, bits of it resonated and bits of it not. I wasn’t sure whether to continue reading it but had brought it with me to Sark, together with two other books such was my over-confidence in having any time to read books!
As it happened the book had got soaked in the storm and while I had attempted to leave it to dry in the earlier sun, it was likely totally soaked through again with the recent downpour. I realised though, that I didn’t really now need to read it, because I had opened myself up to receiving, not least from the campsite owner, but from my Sark friend too. Inevitably it had brought up feelings of having to somehow reciprocate their kindness, but once I got over this, I realised that it’s really lovely receiving from others, and it gave them the opportunity to help.
The rain didn’t stop though and we found ourselves huddling in the Bel Air with members of Buffalo Huddleston funnily enough, who were also huddling from the atrocious weather. I made it to the festival in time to enjoy some Himalayan fare and the end of one of the bands, before I had to head home to put the boys to bed. I couldn’t have been happier to settle onto the inflatable mattresses with our virtually dry duvets knowing that we were safe and warm.
Years ago I would have struggled with all of this; of no sheets, no pillows, no duvet covers, no showers before bed. But none of it seems the least bit important anymore. All our wet clothes and possessions also didn’t phase me. And coming home Sunday evening to find our WIFI and telephone line dead, our freezer semi-defrosted and the cat’s excrement and attempts at peeing in a plant pot stinking out our office space, did not phase me either.
The moon had unexpectedly ushered in change. It cleared the energy in a stupendous way. It brought us back together as a family, reminding me of the importance of fun and adventure, and of living simply. I was also reminded of the need to go with the flow and trust in the universe, it helped me to accept help and receive love and it deepened by faith in the process. I’m hoping it will last, and my washing machine will survive all the washing…and we’ll adjust to living life offline…another necessary experience ushered in.
