Turning and Returning by Tina

Last night I asked Reverend Jane if I could come and walk her labyrinth under the full moon.  It was partly cloudy, so I couldn't see the moon at all times, but it was always there, just beyond the shifting clouds.

This is the waning Blood Moon, the October moon.  It is only only a week until Samhain season, my fourth since I started walking this path.  So for tonight I did a ritual to honor beginnings and endings, the cycles of life and time.  I followed the path that many others have walked before me upon entering a labyrinth -- release, receive and return.

I brought my cauldron filled with pomegranate seeds and a red candle.  I lit it as I entered.  Jane had brought some Native American flute music -- she played this as we walked.  As I turned the first circuit, I thought of all the things I wanted to release. Attachment, need, requirement.  Judgment and blame, guilt and regret.  Fear -- of the future, of the past, of not being fully present.  When I reached the center, I placed my cauldron on the rock and lay my hands on it.  It was cool.  Somewhere in the woods, I heard an owl.  I released all these emotions into the earth, grounding them, returning them to the ferment of the universe, fertile matter for creation.  I released stagnation and obstacles of all kinds -- into the earth, into stone, into the keeping of Mother Earth. Jane calls the stone Mama Rock -- I understand.

After a moment, still in the light, I ate six of the pomegranate seeds, to symbolize the taking on of darkness, willingly and with full knowledge.  To accept it, like Persephone.  To grow and change in its cool receptive nurture.  To break all unhealthy ties and sever all connections that do not serve the highest good.

I blew out the candle.  The way back now lay in darkness.

And then I opened to receive.  Grace, abundance, and acceptance.  All the forms of peace and all its parts -- patience, love, faith, connection to spirit.  And these I hope to return to the world, to return myself into the world as their vessel.  I exited with this thought in mind, turning back to the labyrinth for one final moment of gratitude.