The moon asked me to meet her in a field tonight.
I think she has amorous ideas.
—Rumi—
When the moon calls, I don’t ask her to clarify her intentions.
I run.
I go to the darkest place and follow the light until I find the phase.
Until I find her shape and movement, until I find her placement in a sky full of brilliant stars far above so many people who have worried too much that day.
Far beyond people who have carried heavy loads, the kind you can’t describe and you might not recognize during small talk.
But their eyes give it away.
The weight of what can’t be seen easily, what has been given and passed down. What was quickly noticed by a child’s eyes and tattooed beside the heart; a set of instructions about what to do, what to know, what to expect.
What to deserve.
Of Waxing & Wanting
There is a weight to perception; a responsibility, even.
Being seen comes with a dose of vulnerability and an opportunity to feel absolutely naked (and afraid). And to be unseen comes with a heaviness, the kind that could drag you to the ground.
I have had many moments of feeling seen, like really, really seen. And those moments are quickly followed by a brain that wants to protect me from that rawness, from that opportunity to take it in. Heck, even believe it.
Because I was taught I did not deserve it. Not to trust it.
That a ‘good’ person didn’t need it.
It doesn’t really matter where I learned it. What does matter is this: I have a playlist called, “Get Off the Floor.” (It’s private, no you can’t see it.)
I created it in 2020 when all I wanted to do was to disappear. All I wanted to do was hide away from the world, and while the pandemic ‘helped,’ I was also publishing my first bookS that year. I couldn’t hide for long.
I was separated, my mentor had just died, my dad almost died, and if it weren’t for my new kittens, I might have added another sad chapter to that story.
Nonetheless, I knew I needed to keep moving. I wanted to keep moving. I wanted to grow from all of this, but I was sabotaging myself at every turn.
I played small. I stayed isolated. I didn’t say anything unless I was losing my mind.
And even then, I held back.
Yet…I wanted to keep going, even if it was aspirational. I wanted to believe somewhere, deep down, I deserved more—even if it seemed life was conspiring to prove me wrong.
So I clung to one song in particular, “Wait for It” from the Hamilton musical.
This song, in case you don’t know it, includes this chorus that follows a verse in which Aaron Burr describes his parents.
Death doesn't discriminate
Between the sinners and the saints
It takes and it takes and it takes
And we keep living anyway
We rise and we fall and we break
And we make our mistakes
And if there's a reason I'm still alive
When everyone who loves me has died
I'm willing to wait for it (Wait for it)
I'm willing to wait for it
Somehow, this song taught me about deserving, that I deserved something more because I was there to want more.
I was alive enough to want more.
The Too Bright Sky
I watched my parents help others time and time again. From visiting the elderly to making sure at least one person showed up to someone’s funeral, they were caring and kind humans. They wanted to give what they could to those in need.
But unless you knew them, you wouldn’t know this. They wouldn’t tell you in casual conversation. They would look uncomfortable with praise. They would downplay anything slightly praise-ish. They would look away.
(My child brain determined this: doing good things means discomfort, dismissal, and disappearing. Got it.)
But it was confusing. They wanted good things for me, but somewhere I still thought, At what cost?
Nearly every time I get a compliment, I feel soooooo good. And then soooooo bad. It’s no wonder I still sabotage myself, so I’m not ‘too’ good. It’s no wonder I stay within safer places where I trust (mostly) what I hear.
If there’s a reason I’m still alive
When everyone who loves me has died
I’m willing to wait for it.
Death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints. It took my parents. It will take everyone I love. And I will not deserve that.
Maybe I will have to wait to believe in my deserving of more.
But I’m willing to try anyway.
*****
Thanks for reading.
May the moon hold you and remind you of the things you need to hear.
xo
Irisanya
Wanna make some magick with me (and deities and humans)?
July 27 & 28: Pearl Pentacle - with Irisanya, Riyana & Stephen - Vallejo, CA
August 3 & 4: Iron Pentacle - with Irisanya & AManita - Santa Rosa, CA
Wanna hear some interviews I’ve done recently? You can listen to all of them here.
This post is so good! From your heartfelt prose to the hamilton quote 🥹 it was medicine for my heart.