I'm ready for spring. That doesn't mean that my spring cleaning is done. My flu followed by Amber's UTI sidetracked me completely from major cleaning. Until Monday, my days are bounded morning and evening by coaxing a stubborn little cat to swallow a miniscule amount of liquid medicine. Despite our struggles, she still purrs for me and eats treats from my hand.

Nonetheless, the Aerie glows with light, and everything is tidy if not polished within an inch of its life. All the houseplants have been bathed free of their winter's dust, and they are reaching toward the sun with such enthusiasm.

So am I.

There are things that have to change in my life, things that are begging to flourish in the sunlight. I have temporarily lost control of the one day of the week that I make mine. I want it back. My creative and spiritual lives are both a bit dusty and uninspired. I have not had conversation with the sea in a long time.

Tonight is my new moon observance, delayed as late as possible. I want to ride that sigh of completion, that deep and grateful exhalation, and declare these obstacles out of my life. I'm going to do Ritual-with-a-capital R tonight, claiming the raging energy of the rain and flood to power everything that I will to change.

Sunday, I am reclaiming my day. I've always been more focused when I set aside an hour a day, a day a week, and a week each year for myself. I'm really careful about my hour a day and my week each year, but I have been careless about my day a week. No more.

I am looking forward to the Spring Equinox, and can feel the transformative energy building. It's time to blossom, to be transformed.

What I do in everyday life tends to drift into my spiritual practice. Or maybe it works the other way around. 

The new moon found me practicing a yoga sequence called chandra namaskar which translates to moon salutations. There are many variations of chandra namaskar, but I am practicing this sequence, which originated at Kripalu. As I learned it, the Victory Squat was called the Victory Goddess position.

I practiced by the light of candles on my altar, and after yoga, settled into a meditation that carried me through soft colors into the presence of Goddess.
 

All my life's a circle
Sunrise and sundown
The moon rolls through the night-time
Till the daybreak comes around.

Circle - Harry Chapin


Time is not a straight line.
We trick ourselves into believing
That opportunities knock only once
And that time marches on.

Time also dances,
Weaving circles around us
Beckoning, beckoning
Until we jump into the dance.

Some things
We push them away
Every time they return
Until we know their worth.

Some places
We know from lifetimes
But must leave
To discover why we must return.

Some people
Bless us with a second chance
To know why we parted
And merry met again.

Spiral and labyrinth
Circle and star
Goddess within us
Full moon above.