I'm breaking fast today.
It began on the spring equinox, March 20th with an unexpected urge to stymy winter-in-the-northlands habits. Pancakes and maple syrup. Quesadillas. My hand reaching out for a bite of whatever was on the counter. Bad, bad me. Out of the blue-(green forest), I added a fast to my equinox fire and drum. Spring clean from the inside out. Empty and see what drops in.
Perfect timing, to begin with the energy shift of spring and end on the new moon, three days later. I didn't force it. If I wanted to quit any given day I gave myself permission. I longed to taste will power again, a distant player since Saturn has had his foot on my neck for over a year. He lifts it October 4th. Be guaranteed, by then I'll know the exact moment he lifts leg and walks on.
I hadn't fasted in several years. I'd forgotten the diamond clarity that envelopes the brain. The way aches go away; swelling dissipates. The volcanic burst of energy. What I hadn't forgotten was how beautiful it felt, in this world of womb-robbing politicians and kill-club voices, to control something.
It was surprisingly easy to drink water with maple syrup and fresh lemons (with a dash of cayenne) for three days, which tells me how badly needed it was. As if my soul recognized a vital path; an escape hatch to another part of myself. A hibernating chunk of spirit that needed an elbow in the ribs.
The final day of no food, yesterday, the new moon was in Aries. My moon is in Aries. I was furious with hope as I slugged through over a foot of new wet snow for a couple of miles, accompanied by bird songs of sex. I cleaned floors, did laundry, stretches and then I collapsed into my New Yorker magazine and John le Carre's final book.
I want to fly the coop. Wings are set and plop, a foot of white stuff. Plop again, another foot. This morning, 3 new inches. I'm editing an article set for July publication on "Watching the Wild." And, I'm figuring out what to eat this morning. I don't want to let go of this journey and it's crystalline balance; I like that my one-legged stretches are impeccable; my body doesn't teeter or totter.
Spring equinox marks the day the earth begins. The season of rebirth. I'm giving it all I've got, stretching to the limit.