Cobwebs, Miss Havisham, Today and Next Week's Post

First Quarter Moon

Monarch on the walking path yesterday. Butterflies teach the never-ending cycle of transformation, from larva to cocoon, and in this case, even death.

Dear Reader,

The act of writing leads me into the feelings that I avoid. Once I move in and observe, things loosen, and because energy wants to move, what once was blocked is now released and things start to happen.

That is nature in action.

So after my New Moon post last week, I went on a cleaning frenzy, tackling some of what had been hanging over my head. Literally.

We no longer live in a house of drooping cobwebs.

Afterwards, I jokingly ask Josh how he would diagnose Mrs. Havisham. (Do you remember her from Dickens’ novel, Great Expectations, living in her house of cobwebs?)

I don’t think he answered me, but we did get to talking about all the ways we are stuck around this house and all the ways we might get unstuck.

And to answer questions I received from friends on the reader front, yes I think it will be grounding to have brother, sister and mother in the hood (see last week’s letter).

It was an act of self care to finally take a rag into the corners of all the rooms around here and brush the cobwebs away. Spiders are a symbol of writers medium, words spun from ourselves and the infinite things that worlds spun from words can create. It’s about time to clear away some of the old worlds and spin some new ones.

I pass by these spider creations in the corners of my hallways, my eyes drawn to their dusty filaments, with the thought, what’s the point anyway? And in fact, that is the truth with these yarns, out with old Miss Havisham and in with the new.

So the content of this post just includes teasers for my post next week, on the Full Moon. It will include more about Miss Havisham and her cobwebs which I learned about in 9th grade English, and the war that happened on the Minnesota River Watershed, which I never learned about in school. And a little bit about generational wealth, which has allowed me to be where I am now.

And because of the ultimate truth is that we are all are connected, when something moves for me, it will move for you too. That’s how nature is.

May these moves serve all beings.

In the meantime, the coyote point of view has been serving me this week, that is seeing how I mustn’t take myself too seriously. I’ve been laughing at my own spills and stumbles, including this post that has taken me too long and will be two, rather than just one. Perhaps this point of view could work well for you too? Let the trickster show you the way, until Full Moon comes around next week, and we meet again, for forgiveness.

Much love, Tina