Remembering enchantment

As the new moon comes around, I am asking myself "who cares? Why track these cycles and seasons?"

Hi friends,

Twenty years ago I sold my house, left my job, and took myself to Ireland where I apprenticed with a traditional healer. My American middle-class worldview was turned on its head. I learned many things but, most important and enduring, I came to know that this planet we call home is dripping with enchantment, mystery, and everyday magic…. if we only have eyes to see it.

Two decades later, I’ve moved from Ireland to Philadelphia to Asheville; made new friends; shifted my work landscape. Within my body, my cells have turned over, my estrogen has declined, my hair has gone to gray. In other words, I have changed, outside and in.

So I’m fascinated with what remains from my time in Ireland. Which teachings and learnings have become so central that my life has ebbed and flowed around them? What practices have structured my existence? Which philosophies still have the gleam of something true?

If you are reading this on Tuesday, January 28, tomorrow is a new moon. Over the weekend, we step into a cross-quarter holiday. Cross quarters mark the point between a solstice and an equinox. The one coming is called Imbolc in pagan circles, St. Brigid’s Day in Ireland, Candlemas in the Christian church (because at this time the candles were dipped for the years’ masses), and Groundhog Day in modern America.

Over the decades since Ireland, I have occasionally kept an altar, read my tarot cards, laid out crystal grids, and made full moon elixirs. I have intermittently meditated and done journey work. I’ve studied various energy modalities and worked with the elements. I’ve had my astrology chart read, worked with flower essences, and took a deep dive into essential oils. Each of these learnings has enriched my life and helped me sink more deeply into connection with my inner knowings and with the world around me. And, ultimately, each has flowed through me, eventually moving like a current out to sea.

But, no matter what else has temporarily captured my love and attention, I have never strayed from the concept of cyclicality. The breath going in and out, the movement from dusk to dawn to dusk, the cycles of the moon, and the changing seasons.

Why? I asked myself this morning. Why do these things matter? Especially with so much else to think about. Especially in a world that feels like it’s gone mad. Why should I (or you) care tomorrow marks a new moon?

In contemplating this for twenty-four hours, I found that my answers to my own questions are rather simple. In a complex world, this simplicity feels like safety and tastes like truth, like I’m sitting on exposed bedrock— the rough, not so sexy stuff that’s usually covered with dirt and plants. The stuff that, while not flashy or fast moving, is solid enough to support a life.

Reason #1

Living within these cycles means I am always invited to begin again. To pause and look at the world around me and my own life as if it is new and rich and brimming with possibilities.

Reason #2

Constantly feeling into the patterns of cyclicality makes me sure, deep in my bones, that nothing lasts forever. So a headache or heartache becomes more bearable: it won’t last forever. A political season is something that will (someday) pass. The converse is also true: the trout lily will quickly fade back into the creek’s mossy bank, an owl hooting at sunset will drift off to further fields. The wheel will turn. This knowledge is a persistent reminder:

Pause, notice, be with these delights, breathe into these small enchantments.

Speaking of delight, it has become my goal to seek it. To follow the flow of life’s honey… because, let’s face it, there’s plenty to be anxious and concerned about. I need a counterweight.

So…. I’m working on a novel. And my dear friend Steph Jagger and I are starting a new Substack called How to Write a Novel in which we take our readers along for the writing and life journey of figuring out something new, of stepping into creativity when at life’s crossroads, and of handling the ups and downs of midlife together with a good friend. I hope you’ll join us. Keep your eyes out next week for an email from the two of us that introduces the project.

Paid subscribers, I’m going to put some journaling prompts into the chat for you. It’s a new thing I’m trying out to overcome a little Substack technicality.

Happy New Moon everyone,

xx Maia

Want to learn about the wheel of the year and how to flow with the seasons? This is the book!