as spring stirs under blankets of snow and sheets of ice, here in the northern hemisphere the earth is still in its slumber, but days of false spring have seen the maple sap rising, and the drip drip of intermittent melting of our rooftop. midwestern february is giving me a bit of whiplash.

as the human made + natural disasters in ohio, turkey, syria rock the world and consistent gun violence tears at the fabric of our society here in the US, we must hold fast to the hope together we can cultivate change and keep the wonder that makes us human.

the last sign of the zodiac, mutable sign of pisces, ushers in beginnings + endings and brings a dreamlike quality to our lives. not to completely escape, but to envision something new. as it is still technically winter, we hibernate but our dreams are stirring with the energy, movement and flow. it is here with the help of water the cycle of life ends and begins. it is at the thaw + water of pisces season, we find cleansing + softening, we sit and wait with anticipatory hearts + childlike wonder.

“there is reason, after all, that some people wish to colonize the moon, and others dance before it as an ancient friend.” james baldwin

i celebrate, honor, my intimate growth waxing + waning with the moon. it is here i find the courage, reflection, a natural rhythm for my own expansion and contraction. i’ve learned over the years, it is under the moonless, starry skies i feel most alive. i was born under a balsamic waning crescent moon that slipped from aries into taurus shortly after my birth time, and it is here under the darkness + potential of new moons i feel at home. the safety, comfort to dream new dreams.

dreaming verdant dreams

these days my library stack has been a rotation of garden books. i ordered in a handful by the most inspiring piet oudouf. a natural landscaper, focusing on native plants and verdant, dynamic landscapes. it is from these pages i begin to breath life into my dreams. respire + inspire, both words share the root, spir from the latin ‘to breathe’.

planting a natural garden by Henk Gerritsen, Piet Oudolf

dream plants for a natural garden by Henk Gerritsen, Piet Oudolf

we are exhausted + excited, equally, as our home build is nearing its end. the earth surrounding the house vacillates between a frozen and thawing mud pit, much like the messy endeavor of building a home. i too, shift from being utterly and completely overwhelmed at the blank slate + thrilled at the prospect of beginning. you have to start somewhere, right? fears in hand.

in pisces season under the stillness, quiet of a blanket of the last snows and the flash of hope apricity brings that’s the perfect time to dream of, dream up and put in the time to deeply envision what is to come. so we can truly embody + call in our dreams.

i’m excited to share i won’t be alone in this planning and dreaming stage of our garden, i’ll have the help of shades of green permaculture and will be sharing the process here on the journal with you, in a series of posts. but for the now, before starting seeds, i’m searching within for a clearer vision of what’s possible outside myself. i know this garden will take many years of work and patience to take shape, but it’s here i’m letting myself dream big.

on new moons, we plant seeds.

under this pisces new moon, i’m dreaming into being our first real garden at our land. i find a key to this is vision. creating a vision board, truly seeing with clarity + whimsy + hope, what you are calling in. closing your eyes and allowing yourself to deeply feel yourself in your dream. allowing the dream + desire to permeate your skin, so you + the dream become one. allowing both to become boundless, it in this expansion you can find the seed to begin.

a simple ritual

for ritual work, i begin by creating space. whether that’s clearing off a table. dedicating a spot for an altar, or a simple tray. with deep intention, i’m making space in my day to day, my chaos, in my motherhood, my life to turn a mundane moment into sacred space. under the dark, new moon the movement is inward.

gather your tools: i find this works best with items that are calling to me. examples: a candle, incense, a stone, a deck of tarot cards. anything that will help ground you in your moment, your ritual, and signify to your spirit it is time to begin.

you will also need: a journal, a pen, a glass of water, your inspiration, whether that’s a book, magazine clippings, a secret pinterest board even, and anything you are wanting to plant: maybe it’s a literal a packet of seeds or in my case, ranunculus corms, maybe it’s the dream of a new opportunity, a new way of being.

to begin

you can practice this ritual on the new moon, you can work with its energies two days before or two after as well.

inhale, exhale, close your eyes if you feel safe to do so. respire, breathe in and out. without forcing it, become aware of your minds eye. it is here our dream work begins. with intention and purpose, open your eyes. light your candle, or incense, clear your space. with clarity and an open heart, look at your images. what about them feel inspiring to you.

relax for a few minutes, soften and let your dream come to you. in your journal, entitle your desire. mine is: our first garden. remembering our words are our spells.

next, detail the feelings that arise in you when you think about your dream, when you look upon your vision board or inspiration photos. warmth, connection, enlivening, growth, playfulness, whimsy, wonder.

next, write three concrete steps towards the dream. a plant list, a garden map, and writing down my last frost date, so i know when to start my first round of seeds. now is not yet the time for action, it is time to let the dream take root.

close your eyes again, if it feels good to do so and take a few minutes imagine yourself in your dream, fully immerse yourself in it, imagine taking these first small steps, imagine these steps filling you with the emotions and feelings we wrote down earlier. allow yourself to be the seed, the dream, the vision. feel into it.

blow out your candle. feel the hope in your body. remember and carry that feeling with you through the next lunar cycle, as you meet inevitable challenges and detours, let your dream carry you through.

mutual aid + collective care

how can we turn our vision outward? as we tend to collective dreams, living nightmares, please consider donating to organizations to help folks rebuild and breathe hope into the work of beginning new dreams and new lives. whether in your local community or further beyond your reach, our seeds of compassion can be sown in others gardens.

turkey + syria |

AHBAP

AFAD

International Rescue Committee

ohio train derailment | NEOMED

gun violence | Every Town for Gun Safety

many new moon blessings to you,

alyson