God is in His heaven; all is well with the world.
“Watching tonight’s strawberry full moon from my window. There is a cup of hot tea by my side. A scented candle floats its warmth and perfume through my room. I have washed my hair with henna and burnt old, useless things; a symbolic ritual cleansing. I am going to meditate and relax. Everything works together for my good. God is in His heaven; all is well with the world”. ~ Olatorera.
The moon has always been important to me. I don’t know why, but it is a constant companion for me… Like a secret benevolent friend that watches from afar and does favors from time to time.
The sun sees all that I do, but the moon, she knows my secrets. In fact, I have a deep association with both heavenly bodies. The sun recharges me. I always feel better after basking in the morning sunlight. Unlike most people who enjoy taking walks when the sun has gone down, I’m the opposite. I get up before the sun, and begin my walk at around the moment she rises.
This fascination with the sun, is one of the reasons I doubt that I could survive long-term in a really cold country. Imagine not seeing the sun for days on end!
The moon however, hits different for me. The moon is cold, but still warm. Sometimes she refreshes me, sometimes she gives me headaches, exactly like a romantic relationship would.
Every full moon, I try to take note and do a little ritual. Usually, I delve into self-care. I wash my hair, take a refreshing bath with touches essential oils and cinnamon. I lay back, meditate and just drift.
This full moon though, I did something different. Many people underestimate the power of manifestation. However, the Bible tells us, that things that were made, were made from things unseen. I am digressing, but bear with me.
I believe in the power of words and gestures to call forth, or dispel something. Especially when it is spiritually inclined. After all, the Bible (again), tells us that in the beginning was the Word.
So I used that power this full moon. First, I gathered everything that holds painful memories for me. It shocked me how very much of those items there actually were.
I realized that for each item, I was holding space within for a painful thought. For each item there were tears left still unshed, bottled up inside.
Apart from those, there were the useless items. The receipts and old pieces of paper— (not jottings or scribblings or notes from my students though. I would never throw those away. Ever)— ragged clothing, old perfume bottles… All these things.
You see, with clutter, there is a certain energy of nostalgia. Nostalgia can be good, but when it has to do with unusable items with mixed or downright unpleasant energy, then it is bad and you should consider throwing them away.
As I gathered each item, I put intention behind what I was doing. I said, I throw this away. I give up the sadness that this draws in everytime I catch a glimpse of it. I let go of the anger everytime I remember the event this is associated with. I abandon the shame that is packaged within this one. This one has simply lost its value, so I thank you for being useful, but now I let you go to make room for new things to come in.
In this way, I gathered a whole bunch of stuff. What was once relevant, was now garbage. That alone, was the first lesson.
My mother often says, in response to the melancholy we feel over letting go of items or (usually), food; “ki l’anje ti kiitan, afi ola Olorun ni’kan ni”. This translates to, “what do we eat that doesn’t finish, apart from God’s wealth?”
This first lesson, was that nothing truly is permanent. I have come to realize that cliched sentences like this one are still around all these years (despite being over flogged and frankly sickening at times), because they are essentially true statements.
With this pile of garbage gathered up, I cleaned up my room. As usual, I was astonished at the amount of space junk had taken up. I was already running out of room for good things. Good things that I crave…
It was already threatening to rain, but I instinctively knew that I couldn’t rush this particular burning. It wasn’t your average burnfest, you see. Almost always, I am against the burning of anything. I am an avid environmentalist, and this is one of the reasons, aside from comfort, that I will not use disposable menstrual hygiene products.
This burning however, was to be symbolic. A cord cutting, releasing and cleansing ritual. So I did not rush. Almost ceremonially, I stood up, taking each step slowly. Down the stairs I went, and out the backdoor.
The clouds were already gathering when I lit the fire. As I stoked the fire, I began to speak. I spoke of all the pain I had associated with these items, and how I was now ready to let go.
Truth be told, my words sounded like spell work so I will not be documenting them here. The flames burned higher and higher, and honestly, I think it was partly the fuel I added, and partly the strength of my intention.
I have never experienced items with high plastic content burn that fast, and what’s more, burn up into honest to goodness ashes. And for you who doubts, I used about a small cover full of kerosene.
As the ashes began to die down, I asked for a cleansing, and suddenly the wind began to pick up. I am no avatar, and I will never claim to have any control over the elements God has created. I will only say, that I have been given permission to decree and have it come to pass. To ask and receive, to seek, and to find.
The wind picked up, as I said and began to blow so hard, that the dying embers of the fire rose very high. I had to shield my face from being burned.
And down came the rain, and how it poured! It washed away every single trace of the ashes, and for the first time in months, I felt truly, deeply cleansed within.
Later, I sat watching June’s strawberry full moon from my window. There was a cup of hot tea by my side. A scented candle floated its warmth and perfume through my room. I had washed my hair with henna and burnt old, useless things; a symbolic ritual cleansing. I sat back, meditated and relaxed. Everything works together for my good. God is in His heaven; all is well with the world.
Tonight I lay typing this. I am not looking at the full moon outside my window anymore, because I know that she is there. She is as constant as the Creator before whom there is no shadow upturning. As I sleep she will be there. And even when she wanes, she will come back next month to refresh my soul and turn the tides again. Change.