Daily Archives: June 7, 2012
Flashback to November of 2003, the day of the Harmonic Concordance. Several dozen of us had gathered over a bonfire to view the lunar eclipse while the stars were lined up in the shape of the Merkaba or Star of David. It was a powerful opening and it was topped off by the full moon lunar eclipse.
Man it was a cold day. And under regular circumstances, I would have been tucked away under a blanket somewhere by a warm fire. Instead we all huddled together over a beautiful raging fire, coming together with many others around the globe who were gathering on the same day to hold the intention of ascension.
But then the “worst” happened. Cloudy skies covered the Mid-Ohio Valley like a blanket, making it impossible to see even a glimpse of the moon. But the group wasn’t to be deterred. We watched the skies and we called for the clouds to part. I don’t remember the exact words that we used but we chanted together and asked for the clouds to part. It seemed an impossibility.
But then it happened. For a few short minutes the clouds parted and allowed us to see the full glory of the eclipse. It was a gift indeed and we were overwhelmed with excitement and gratitude. Interestingly, circumstances forced us to stay into the wee hours of the morning to wait as the fire burn itself out. So we sat out on our lawn chairs, watching the fire and the sky, hearts brimming. About half hour after the eclipse, the skies cleared completely and not a cloud could be seen for miles. I often wonder if was a delayed reaction to our call.
Flash forward to Winter Solstice 2010. Another full moon eclipse. Now it was happening on the Winter Solstice.It was not just a rare combination that we had known was coming for years, but on a very deep level, we understood that this MATTERED. And, like the Harmonic Concordance, people all over the world gathered.
The day was not cooperating. Not only was it overcast all day, but a foot of mature snow covered the ground. We had planned to gather at Turtle Mound (Quadranou), for ceremony as we watched the eclipse. What started as the promise of a sizable crowd whittled down to just a few of us. Me, Nancy, Susan, Diane and Diane’s friend. Though we had very little chance of seeing the eclipse, we made the pilgrimage nonetheless. After a quick trip to Tim Horton’s for a hot beverage, we were off to the mound.
Fortunately some ambitious kids had set out to make an igloo, using up snow and leaving accessible patches of barren earth on which we could comfortably stand. As as we stood there, setting intention and saying prayers, we chanted once again. And once again, as if on cue, the clouds parted. It was like magic and we were overwhelmed with gratitude.
We were able to watch the entire eclipse, from the moment it started until the moment it ended. At the precise moment that the eclipse ended, or perhaps a moment before, the clouds covered back over the moon. The moon was not to be seen again for the rest of the night.
Flash to present day (well, yesterday actually) for the Venus Transit. It was an event like no other. Anticipated for more than 100 years, an anomalie in our own lives. The last time in our lifetimes that venus will traverse the sun on our exact elliptical plane to transit the sun for us to see.
The forecast showed partly cloudy skies. And since the Transit would last for 6 hours, it seemed an inevitability that we would be able to soak up the energy of the Great Serpent Mound while watching Venus transit the sun. With eclipse glasses in tow (I had 10 pair!) we headed off to the mound under, yes, partly cloudy skies. The sun was hiding but we were certain that it would clear by the time we got there. Indeed we arrived more than 5 hours before the Transit was to start and thought for sure we would see it.
Instead, the clouds settled in. It was a blanket of the highest order. Clouds darkened and rain began to fall. The rain was an unexpected gift. Because of the rain, everyone who was scattered as individuals around the mound, moved to the shelter house. As the rain fed the mound and fed our spirits, dripping of the sides of the shelter house in a song of her own, one lone drummer picked up her instrument and began to play. Others brought out food, prepared for the scheduled talks, or just talked. One drum joined another until the rain and the resonance of the instruments congealed into a recognizable melody of nature and man. Dimensional doorways opened as we stepped into a group trance and the heightened energies of this anticipated event brought us together in that way we all long for. The longing for true connection permeated the area as people released their boundaries in the desire to connect.
It didn’t matter that we had never “met” before. It didn’t matter that we came from different places, even different countries. We were one.
The drumming ceased as Ken Harsh took center stage. Ken was the epitome of “walking your walk.” You see he lost his life partner of 16 years only 24 hours before. It was a profound knowing that she chose the energy of the full moon lunar eclipse of the day before to make her transition. I like to think that the eclipse provided a doorway to opportunities on the other side that might not have shown themselves on a different day. Other dimensions or planets. I certainly don’t know but I love the poetry of it nonetheless.
Ross Hamilton followed Ken and talked about the Serpent and her luscious power. Ross was in rare form. Having experienced lead poisoning during a particularly ambitious experiment in alchemy, Ross has been in compromised health for some time. The result is that his voice grows tired easily and he can be hard to hear. But yesterday was different. The man was in his element and his enthusiasm brought him to life as he invoked the possibility that this was the actual home of the Garden of Eden. Perhaps we were here on the very spot where it all began and the kundalini energy of the serpent was ready to awaken.
Finally, the rain stopped and the ceremony began. Ken donned his ceremonial gear and off we went. The blanket of clouds still covered the sky but deep down I KNEW we would be honored with at least a glimpse of this magical experience.
And yet as time passed, my heart sank. In the horizon, you could see that it was clear SOMEWHERE and so we went on a quest to find it.
The quest was fruitless and a sense of true sadness set in. For a brief second, around 8:00, it seemed that we might get a glimpse, just one would have been enough. But the moment passed and the blanket of gray clouds settled in once more. Followed by dusk and then dark. Never a glimpse was to be seen.
We arrived home around 11:30 and headed straight for the computer. I quickly located the live feeds out of Hawaii and Kyoto, Japan. Frankly, I’m always amazed that I can be standing in my backyard and see the same moon that you can see, no matter where you are. I love to call friends on the phone who live far away and watch the moon together. It has a way of bringing us in to the same room and invokes a deep sense of intimacy, no matter how many miles divide us. And the same is true of the sun. Its the same sun. Somehow we are all part of this same system. The sun, the moon, the stars, the earth. We are all connected through them.
And so sitting here in my office in Vienna, WV, I was able to watch as Venus transited the sun. And I realized that I am indeed the luckiest girl on earth.