The Freezing Moon of November - Baashkaakodin Giizis
Looking back and looking forward
I was in Portland at the time of my last full moon post of October 7 and was more focused on Trump’s moves against the cities than the government shut down which began October 1st. In reaching today’s full moon, I wanted to mark what has happened since then and came up with this bullet-pointed list:
the Gaza Peace Deal was announced
Hamas returned 20 living hostages while Israel sent nearly 2000 Palestinian prisoners back.
Politico released a report that detailed 2,900 pages of leaked racist, antisemitic, and violent Telegram messages by Young republicans (millennials and GenZ, so many are adult enough)
Former FBI Director James Comey pleaded not guilty to charges of lying to Congress
No Kings - 7 million in peaceful protest across the country
Venezuelan opposition activist Maria Corina Machado won the Nobel Peace Prize
Speaker of the House, Mike Johnson is holding the house in recess so as not to seat Adelina Grijalva, House Representative-elect from Arizona and keep the Epstein files sealed.
Trump pardoned cryptocurrency billionaire Changpeng Zhao on October 23, who has business involvement in World Liberty Financial with the family of Steve Witkof, the US special envoy to the Middle East who is credited with the Peace Deal.
the East Wing of the White House was demolished without any approvals or reviews.
the US Administration continues to target Venezuelan vessels in the Caribbean and eastern pacific without Congress approval
Hurricane Melissa, a category 5 storm, devastates Jamaica
on Halloween Trump hosted a pretty dead-on Great Gatsby Party just as SNAP benefits were about to expire. F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1925 novel exposes the moral decay of the wealthy elite.
And that is just what was reported on in the news I read and could remember. What did I miss?
So what is getting me through in the midsts of life and death and government shutdown?
I mark time with trips by foot around the lake, lovely visits from family, weekly writings with friends, a rare retreat, yoga classes, saunas, the yellow-bellied sapsucker, and practicing trust - not so much “trust the process,” as there is no need to convince myself of processing (haha), but just “trust yourself, Tina.”
I was reminded yesterday that it’s been two years since I last saw my sister Karlene in the flesh. Her hair in the pixie cut of her chemo recovery, and with it she had taken on a playful childishness that was all love and appreciation, so much Otter Medicine, which was also prevalent this month. Two years ago we gathered for a sister’s retreat where we ensconced ourselves into the cocoon of Elena’s home. Cozy, just the four daughters of Shirley and Stan - Karlene and Elena, Becka and Tina, respectively. Perhaps we all knew we were gathering for a last time, despite the habit we couldn’t give up of — always hoping for more. We made this gathering happen because her prognosis was short and the unforeseen happened just a month later.
At Elena’s dining room table, we each drew cards from my animal deck. I got armadillo for boundaries, Becka got bear for reflection, Elena moose, for pride in accomplishments, and Karlene pulled Lynx, a sign of the secret that was held in her body. To be honest, that thought came later, after the news that the cancer had consumed her liver. I couldn’t unthink that the cards knew what was going on with the cancer before we did. At the time, we couldn’t know the secret, as much as we wanted to. And now, she is the silent and beautiful Lynx that prowls through our lives, as a mysterious force watching over us, showing us the hidden things we have not learned about our selves yet. When we are sensitive, we receive her signs of encouragement. Showing up as she does in nature, physical signs, and dreams. I have known since her funeral that Karlene’s role now is advocacy, because she revealed that to us in a dream.
It’s not just Karlene’s advocacy that unfolds in my life, but other lost relatives show up in memory and reminders. At my retreat when all participants are working together on the chores that keeps the machine of the retreat center running, I felt that both my grandmas were there with me. My own hands reminded me of theirs’ as I kept busy in the daily work. I thought of how they would have valued the shared responsibilities. The concrete activities of cooking and serving meals to feed a group, weeding the earth, the humility of cleaning the bathroom, the simplicity of getting your old bones to standing from sitting on the floor.
My mom shows up in different ways: Diane Keaton’s sense of style, Ezra Klein’s arguments for liberalism as the inescapability of different interests, and a chance encounter with a song by Joan Armatrading called “I’m lucky” from 1981. The title was a line straight from my mother’s mouth, but the sound of it made me think of my dad.
Who also spent some time with me at my mindfulness retreat. Images of him have been haunting me from when recently we reviewed slides from that same early 80s time frame. Passing over endless photos of their 40 foot trimaran in the process of being built. So many photos of the framing of the gigantic boat’s ribcage. Some close detail of the boat’s fiberglass skin. Different perspectives on the three different hulls. Portraits of each hatch. But the ones that stuck with me were the very few photos that captured my dad and uncle working on it together. The two of them happy and busy, when there was hope that this gigantic boat, that they had made with their hands, could someday be seaworthy. While on retreat, I was buoyed by memories of my dad’s careful habits around his workshop as I just as carefully harnessed my attention. Here is a link of a video of the boat when it finally made it into the water. Seaworthy it is! It has passed on to other hands and that person will take the journey forward. There is a beauty in that. The paying forward of their efforts.
Below is Halloween display of witches I photographed to share with my daughter, as we celebrate the witchy. On November 1st, the woman who lived in the house was gathering them up. I told her that I loved them and thanked her for decorating. The neighbor wound her arm around the waists of all three witches and snuggled them against her side, “I am putting my ancestors away until next year.” I could have told her that I am descended from witches too, but I don’t think it needs to be said, the sign was there between us, we would be taking the magic forward together.
Looking ahead: the next full moon will be December 4, 2025, and the last full moon of 2025. As I write this it seems Mandami has won in New York City and California has approved their new maps. Tomorrow the supreme court discusses tariffs. It will be Thanksgiving between now and then and I will be traveling to Boston before too long.