I was too busy gawking at the moon last night to take a photo. A picture of a recent reading for personal guidance will have to do.
This past eclipse, this super blood wolf moon, was the end of a pattern of Leo-Aquarius eclipses that started in 2017, or so I understand. The end of a short era—but a big era for me.
And these last few weeks have been pretty hard, pretty intense. I pushed through the book draft and gave it to my wonderful, talented, awesome beta readers, and then collapsed. I forget that when I collapse after a big handoff, fear and dread and sorrow come up (everything I’ve been hiding). There’s a lot in the world to trigger those emotions now.
And yet.
Somehow looking at the rosy-dark moon with the clouds boiling over it last night made me think there’s still hope. Even a lot of hope.