penumbral eclipse Archives - Owl Medicine: Shamanic Healing

That Was Intense

I don’t know about you, but my experience of this morning’s full moon awakened me out of a sound sleep. In fact, it woke both Karl and me up precisely 15 minutes before it reached its exact moment of fullness (4:30 a.m. ET). While neither of us are light sleepers, I rarely wake up at that hour – probably because I rarely turn my light off before 2:00 a.m. So I have no qualms declaring of last night’s full moon and penumbral eclipse: that was intense.

As far as literally viewing the darkening of the moon as it approached full immersion in Earth’s shadow at 4:42 a.m., I have to admit I was surprised by how brilliantly I felt the moon was shining when I stood at the window taking her in. I was disappointed that I couldn’t discern any evidence of our planet’s shadow falling upon her face.

Granted, clouds were scuttling across the sky at a fevered clip, but there were enough gaps between them to get a clear view of the moon. What I found odd was that I was actually awake to check it out. I honestly had no intention of trying to see the phenomenon, figuring I’d be comfortably enjoying REM sleep at that time.

When Karl realized I, too, was wide awake, he asked me why I thought we were both suddenly bright eyed and bushy-tailed. He had no idea what I’d written my post about. So we were both surprised when I checked the time and exclaimed that we were witnessing the moment of the full moon and darkest part of the eclipse.

The Heavens Opened

Once I paid homage to the celestial event that demanded our wakeful attention, I fell back to sleep immediately. But the next thing I knew, I was half dreaming, half imagining a waterfall cascading somewhere behind my head – only to realize it was rain pouring so hard and fast from the sky that the gutter above the window closest to my head was overflowing in a literal cascade.

Thus began a day of eerie silence, broken only by the pounding of rain at our windows and the rushing, roiling madness of the chocolate milk colored water racing along the creek bed beside our road.

Very few birds and no squirrels ventured outside. Karl and I both jumped when a Tornado Warning blared out of our cell phones advising us to take cover either in our cellar or a safe room in the center of the house, preferably with no windows. The sky turned a deeply unsettling hue of yellow-brown. Thunder rumbled ominously.

I tried to capture the sense of imminent potential danger posed by this front, but I have to say, I didn’t succeed. My biggest disappointment in the photo above is the fact that posting it in the blog robs you of the ability to press your finger to it to activate the ‘live’ feature. Because that is the weirdest part of all: when I press my finger to it, lightning seems to emanate from the trees in the photo. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It is not lightning from ‘outside.’ For the life of me, it looks like the trees are creating the lightning.

Yeah…today was a weird day. And just think – it was only the first day of ‘eclipse season’ 2020.

Full Moon (before bed) 30 Nov 2020 – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-361)

Nearly Full – 28 Nov 2020 – Photo: L. Weikel

Race to the End

Here we are, approaching the eve of the final month of this seemingly relentless year. In an undeniable display of the paradoxical nature of time and our perception of it, few would disagree that this has been one of the longest years in recorded history. And yet in some ways, it feels like we’re in a race to the end.

Is the election really over? Has that major quadrennial event in our country’s life cycle taken place? When did that happen? Did I miss it? I feel like was aware of it, yet it also feels like it has yet to take place – it will, but in the future. Not because of some sad in ability of some people to face the truth of the election but because the election that did take place feels like it happened about three years ago or so.

Thinking back to January of 2020 feels like a snapshot into, oh, I don’t know…2017? And here we are, one more interminable month to go.

Every day enough happens in the news to merit a month’s worth of back stories and investigative reporting.

The worst part is that, deep down, most of us – if we’ve been paying attention – know that all of December and the first 20 days of January hold the potential for some seriously calculated mayhem. What could possibly add to the maelstrom of self-inflicted harm at the highest levels of our government?

How ‘bout Those Eclipses?

The moon, our closest and most intimate luminary, reaches her fullness at 4:30 a.m. Monday morning. Thus, some of you earliest of risers (or those of you who stay up even later than I do!) may find yourselves not only witnessing the fullest expression of the moon but also looking at the darkest phase of the penumbral lunar eclipse occurring at that very same time.

Because it’s a penumbral eclipse and not a total eclipse (an easy scientific explanation is here), the moon will not appear that deep, blood red color of a full-on total eclipse. It will, however, appear darker. (The moon will enter the penumbra – shadow – of the Earth at 2:29 a.m. ET and finally exit that shadow at 6:56 a.m. ET. The moment when the moon is in the greatest amount of the Earth’s shadow (and will thus appear darkest) at 4:42 a.m. ET.

So if you’re an early morning riser – willingly or unwillingly – you might as well check out the astronomical phenomenon that’s ‘kicking off’ the final eclipse season of our most beloved year of 2020. This lunar eclipse occurs in the sign of Gemini (because the moon, being full, is opposite the sun, which is in the sign of Sagittarius).

And as I’ve mentioned before, eclipses happen in pairs. So the fact that tomorrow morning’s eclipse is a lunar one means that two weeks from now (on December 14^th, as a matter of fact) we will experience a total solar eclipse.

Is it me, or do you think this celestial phenomenon may have an impact on the final casting of electoral votes that’s supposed to take place on December 14^th?

Time will tell, I guess.

In the meantime, here is one astrologer’s, Chani Nicholas’s, discussion of the next two weeks’ worth of planetary aspects and how we might interpret them in our lives.

We Can Do This

The long and short of this post is that we’re not out of the woods yet. This year still has some tricks up its sleeve and these final four weeks hold some seriously profound influences that would challenge us in the best of times.

I dare say, these are not the best of times.

But knowledge is power. And solidarity is too. The more we can pay attention and try to understand what’s going on (not only in the minutiae of the workings of our government – for those of us here in the States – but also the much greater, more comprehensive view of the evolution of our country, our species, and our planet), the better able we’ll be to navigate whatever we’re asked to adapt to as we encounter unforeseen and possibly totally unexpected circumstances.

It’s a lot. But we were born for these times. A huge key is sticking together. Communicating. Sharing our fears (so they are halved), but even more importantly, sharing our vision, our hope, and our compassion. We have each other’s backs.

We can do this.