I got lost, confused. There were three houses around a circle driveway, with farmland beyond. Two other cars parked in the lot. I wandered around the driveway, yoga mat and blanket tucked under one arm, wondering if I was in the right place. One house was marked “Office,” another “Private Residence.” There was another house but I felt awkward, worried about embarrassing myself. I get anxious in situations where I don’t know exactly what to do or where to go, and when I think it may seem obvious to others. I worry I’ll look stupid.
I went back to my car, checked the confirmation email, read a line instructing me to go to the education center. Took a deep breath, shut the fear down, and approached the last house – which was marked “education center” on google Maps. Opened the door. Inside, voices. A long hallway and to my right, a room with two women and a beautiful circle of crystals, flowers, light, poetry, tea. One of the women asked me to remove my shoes, and did I want to be smudged? The space was peaceful, inviting, friendly. Exactly where I wanted to be.
Exhale. Breathe fear out.
This was my first new moon circle. It is something I want to continue to attend – to carve out space at the beginning of each moon cycle to be with like-minded women, meditate and journal, share our stories, set intentions and share positive, loving energy.
A couple of years ago, when I first found out M was using again, I told myself that I had to learn to love myself again. I never in a million years thought that I would one day find myself meditating in a circle with a group of women I didn’t know. That M and I would spend date days crystal shopping, or that I would be lighting bundles of white sage in my home, wafting the smoke with a feather, praying for these spaces and myself be cleansed of negative energy.
I never thought my husband’s addiction would lead me to question my beliefs, to start searching for something greater within this world and within myself, and to find it alone, on my knees, crying in pain, praying in desperation. I never thought I would be one of those people who “found God.” Who believed that miracles do happen. Whose answer to every question has become prayer. Who craves connection with others who feel that same magic when they look up at the moon – others who have suffered and found hope in the synchronicity of the universe.
“My husband is a recovering addict,” I told the circle of women as we gathered around the alter, sipping rose tea, journals open, goddess cards laid out before us. “The past few years have been hard, and I learned to welcome spirituality into my life – something I had never done before, but I found that when you’re feeling alone and hopeless, prayer becomes the only thing you can turn to.”
I don’t think of my Higher Power as God, although sometimes I refer to God for lack of a better name. My Higher Power is the energy within every living thing, that makes up each body and soul, that is the same energy that makes up the stars. We are vibrations, patterns, cycles, flowing through each other, giving life to one another.
I feel closes to my Higher Power when I look at the sky.
The moon is my compass. The moon is always there, always listening. The moon knows what to do.
There is still much to learn, but what I have learned so far is that the new moon energy is best for new beginnings, setting intentions, while the full moon is often a time to reflect and release that which no longer serves us.
On this new moon, I intend to balance my energy between my three greatest relationships – myself, my husband and my son. We are a family, and we are all a part of the recovery process.