The Moon Circle

You Are Your Own Home

Intentions and reminders for Super Full Moon in Scorpio May 2020

I have no home but me

—Ann Truitt

Once in a while, I stumble upon another writer who’s words feel as if they could have been my own—except they couldn’t. Because this author has already lived, processed, and written about their experiences in ways I wouldn’t be ready to do, yet. Instead, their words find me just at the right time—when I need them the most—and because of that, they help me to make sense of exactly what I’m going through at the time.

I discovered Anne Truitt in the midst of a crossroads last spring. Also a visual artist and writer I felt an immediate kinship: I let her words swathe me like a familiar, soft wool blanket that I’m suddenly seeing in a new light.

The quote above became a needed reminder that it’s me; myself, with my own presence that makes my home, as opposed to its physical attributes:

I carry my home within me.

Wherever you go, there you are

—Jon Kabat-Zinn

The last couple of months have been nothing but ordinary for most. While the majority of us have been more or less confined, we’re confronted with the meaning of home in more ways than one.

Mid-March this year, I decided to self-isolate with my partner in his apartment, a choice we made because his place offered the most comfort and versatility for our needs. I knew I’d miss my own home, but was excited about the change nonetheless.

Moving in, I brought home with me, both metaphorically and directly, through a handful of candleholders, textiles, crystals, and a few small lamps. I’m a designer after all and my interior affects me greatly, so I needed some things to create a feeling of home away from home.

Our outer worlds reflect our inner worlds and vice versa. In this case, a few of my tokens brought from my place acted as manifestations of my presence, which was made evident in ways beyond my physical occupancy of his home or that of my things.

A few times during this time I returned to my own apartment to check on things and found that, despite everything being where I left them, my home felt empty and soulless; uninhabited. The thought of returning made me uneasy. It didn’t feel like my home in the same way.

Discussing this with my bestie and partner-in-crime, Morgan, she reminded me that my home is me and not my space. I revisited Anne Truitt and thought about how my home only feels like home when I occupy it—energetically as well.

The ache for home lives in all of us

—Maya Angelou

When the time came for me to return to my own flat last week, I was nervous but admittedly excited: Although I’d managed to bring a sense of home with me, I ached for alone-time—more space for me.

Upon arriving, I promptly started to make changes. I took a week offline and off writing, to paint walls, clean and reorganize. Some of these changes were long-overdue, yet, they felt like they needed to happen right now, almost as a manifestation of the changes this period of time had caused internally:

My external space needed to catch up with my inner-world.

When you reach the end of what you should know, you will be at the beginning of what you should sense

—Kahlil Gibrán

This full moon in Scorpio on May 7th, the last super-full moon of the year, “guides us to honor the beauty of endings”, predicts the site Forever Conscious: “It is highly cleansing and detoxifying, and will be preparing us for the Eclipse season that follows.” It’s a time for new beginnings (in this so-called new-normal) and a time to focus on our own physical and energetic space; our physical and metaphysical homes.

Let’s come home—into ourselves.

As a ritual, I invite you to go inward and explore the meaning of home for you, in whatever way feels good and right. To guide you, I’ve created a two-hour-long playlist, as a serenade to the moon, featuring most of my favorite contemporary classical musicians. What you’ll hear is a very accurate taste of what my evenings usually sound like. In that regard, I’m inviting you home to my living room as well.

Because I can’t help myself (…) I arranged the titles of this playlist into a found poem that perfectly sums up the last two months for me:

An ending, a beginning

Abandon window! The departure; flight from the city

A short walk in the hills Homemade mountains: A model of the universe

My friend the forest Rare things grow; opening

I am a thought; breath; gaze; home

Hum Tomorrow’s song: Full moon sonata

Eastern sun Eclipse

Eyes closed and traveling By night Near light

Radiant city Heading home; the end of all our exploring?

Lay down beside me

I promise I will make room for you Because this must be Another dream

You are your own home!

I leave you with a passage from a book I stumbled across the other day called She: A Celebration of Greatness in Every Woman.

Dear Wide-Eyed One,

You carry your sense of home within you. There are times when you want to just fold yourself into the familiar. Travel offers lots of first times and elegant uncertainties. Sometimes you just want to do something so known to you that it could be accomplished without a second thought.

In the midst of unrecognized views, and roads you have yet to see it is a comfort to remember that all the roads ultimately lead you home.

It’s a sweet knowing you hold — confident that after a short time with habit and pattern you will be ready for another adventure.

Cherish the transition times, the crossroads, the intersections. Cherish them for all the instructive gifts of memory they become once you have finished one road.

May the wind fill your sail and may you have a following sea.

—Mary Anne Radmacher and Liz Kalloch

With that, I wish you comfort and strength through transition, a gentle full moon—and welcome home!