Sunday’s Full Moon Hike was absolutely fantastic and powerful. After a sacred pause in silence with the moon shimmering in the waters of the bay and a couple earth poems, eight of us up on the rock immersed ourselves in a discussion on the theme this month: Hunting Our Wholeness.

Everything in nature tends towards wholeness, towards its unique and powerful expression. Everything in Wild nature is unabashedly, unashamedly itself.

What is it in us that can get in the way of our own Wholeness and self-expression? Can you imagine a river saying, “Well, I’d like to go to the ocean, but what would the red alders think of me?” Or the Sitka spruce wallowing in self-doubt about sinking roots and growing new bright green needles? What if the purple flower hid behind its thistles?

There was a time when I was unaware of whole facets of myself. Slowly, and often painfully, I discovered tools, contexts, resources both within and without that could help facilitate my expansion. When I learned some of that, I still had plenty of those bogeymen of doubts and anxiety about the perception of others if I was too (_____ fill in the blank).

Nowadays, I take plenty of moon and tree and river medicine and practice waxing my wholeness continually, knowing that I am not and the world is not served by hiding.

As the bats flitted about and harbor buoys rang out, the moon lent its bright wisdom to us while we shared individual experiences of hunting our own wholeness, as well as the ways we hide, how we sometimes get in the way of our own light.

Moon is an Elder that teaches many lessons, including how to stand in one’s power. Yes, there are times to wane, to rest, to hide–all important modes and energies. But there are times to claim one’s fullness and round out one’s wholeness.

It reminds me of a quote by Bill Plotkin:

“Remember that self-doubt is as self-centered as self-inflation. Your obligation is to reach as deeply as you can and offer your unique and authentic gifts as bravely and beautifully as you’re able.โ€

With the light shimmering impossibly across the bay, one moonbather shared a poignant haiku:

Broken and broken
again on the sea, the moon
so easily mends

And so, with rolling waves completing the soundscape, and a great horned owl meetingย  us at the end of the trail to tuck us into our dreamscapes–we departed a little more rounded, a little more still, and a little more mended into our wholeness.


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