If you want to change the world, love a man

 By Lauren Wilce 

Shared with me by my mother, sometime in my teens.

If you want to change the world love a man; really love him
Choose the one whose soul calls to yours clearly who sees you; who is brave enough to be afraid
Accept his hand and guide him gently to your hearts blood
Where he can feel your warmth upon him and rest there
And burn his heavy load in your fires

Look into his eyes, look deep within and see what lies dormant or awake or shy or expectant there
Look into his eyes and see there his fathers and grandfathers and all the wars and madness their spirits fought in some distant land, some distant time
Look upon their pains and struggles and torments and guilt; without judgment
And let it all go
Feel into his ancestral burden
And know that what he seeks is safe refuge in you
Let him melt in your steady gaze
And know that you need not mirror that rage
Because you have a womb, a sweet, deep gateway to wash and renew old wounds

If you want to change the world love a man, really love him
Sit before him, in the full majesty of your woman in the breath of your vulnerability
In the play of your child innocence in the depths of your death
Flowering invitation, softly yielding, allowing his power as a man
To step forward towards you…and swim in the Earth’s womb, in silent knowing, together

And when he retreats…because he will…flees in fear to his cave…
Gather your grandmothers around you…envelope in their wisdoms
Hear their gentle shusshhhed whispers, calm your frightened girls’ heart
Urging you to be still…and wait patiently for his return
Sit and sing by his door, a song of remembrance, that he may be soothed, once more

If you want to change the world, love a man, really love him
Do not coax out his little boy
With guiles and wiles and seduction and trickery
Only to lure him…to a web of destruction
To a place of chaos and hatred
More terrible than any war fought by his brothers
This is not feminine, this is revenge
This is the poison of the twisted lines
Of the abuse of the ages, the rape of our world
And this gives no power to woman, it reduces her as she cuts off his balls
And it kills us all

And whether his mother held him or could not
Show him the true mother now
Hold him and guide him in your grace and your depth
Smoldering in the center of the Earth’s core
Do not punish him for his wounds that you think don’t meet your needs or criteria
Cry for him sweet rivers
Bleed it all back home

If you want to change the world love a man, really love him
Love him enough to be naked and free
Love him enough to open your body and soul to the cycle of birth and of death
And thank him for the opportunity

As you dance together through the raging winds and silent woods
Be brave enough to be fragile and let him drink in the soft, heady petals of your being
Let him know he can hold you, stand up and protect you
Fall back into his arms and trust him to catch you
Even if you’ve been dropped a thousand times before
Teach him how to surrender by surrendering yourself
And merge into the sweet nothing, of this worlds’ heart

If you want to change the world, love a man, really love him
Encourage him, feed him, allow him, hear him, hold him, heal him
And you, in turn, will be nourished and supported and protected
By strong arms and clear thoughts and focused arrows
Because he can, if you let him, be all that you dream

If you want to love a man,
love yourself, love your father, love your brother, your son, your ex-partner;
from the first boy you kissed, to the last one you wept over

Give thanks for the gifts; of your unraveling to this meeting
Of the one who stands before you now
And find in him the seed to all that’s new and solar
A seed that you can feed to help direct the planting
To grow a new world, together

On Father's Day

To everyone out there for whom Father’s day is tricky, sending you love, and I relate. Here is some honesty in some words for you, that you may feel less alone.

Father’s day brings mixed emotions for me, grief (it never does leave you), pride, anger, gratitude...
Grief...because you were my world. I was a daddy’s girl and til you suddenly passed at 52 when I was 14, my life consisted of trying to make you proud. Grief is simply a measure of how much we loved.
Pride...because you were the most talented and charismatic of men. St Germans Priory Church is massive and it was standing room only at your funeral. Your legacy continues to protect and provide for me when I visit a new community in Cornwall.
Anger...that you died so early, that you didn’t take care of yourself, that you were emotionally unavailable and that I feared you often. Anger that the maternal woman in me now looks back and does not approve of some of your parenting techniques. Anger at my lack of safety net and the ways I had to raise and protect myself because not even mum could replace you sometimes.
Gratitude...for all of the above because I would not change any of it. Gratitude that I have learned how to raise and protect myself. Gratitude for the fact that you played Star Trek computer games with me and built me an ever-growing spaceport out of packaging behind the sofa. Gratitude that you decided I was a leader the moment I was born and made sure I knew it every day. Gratitude that you educated me about the world, explained the evening news to me and made sure my life was full of fun and music. Gratitude for the freedom I gained when you died. People don’t like to talk about that, but it’s a thing. Gratitude to Vanessa Johnston Williams, for raising me without you through those tricky teen years and beyond. Gratitude to Jo Tyler, Tracey Spring, Liz Evans and others for welcoming me into your families when I needed it. It takes a village. Gratitude for my talents, inherited or nurtured.
Gratitude that I’ve grown into a woman I like, and that dad, I feel you around me every day. Thank you for the message you sent me through Jo soon after your death:

“Think of me, I’m as free as I’ll ever be.”

And I do. And I’m glad.
Happy father’s day all. May you find the magic in the mess and the gratitude in the chaos that love brings. ✨💕♥️
#writing #fathersday #dad #mum #village #family

Am I Christian or Pagan? I'm both.

It’s Easter and someone asked me yesterday how I reconcile my Christianity with my Paganism, having grown up in both traditions. I've not been well lately so this has been on my mind - especially since the recent visit of my cousin Mike Jones and family. He is a Pastor in Canada and I loved touring churches with him - and I also found that in tour-guiding them around Cornwall, my Paganism was also on display. So I decided to write this blog to try to articulate an answer, as I get asked this question about reconciliation every now and then. In doing so, I’m afraid that I’ll meander between my own emotions and my family history, and I'll probably go on too long - but that’s just the truth of my reconciliation journey, so thank you for reading.

I believe that Jesus was a real person, that he was a great spiritual leader, a talented healer, and a community activist, and that the prophets Muhammed & Abraham were equally important.

A huge part of who I am involves connecting with & humbling myself before God/spirit/source/the Holy Spirit/Gaia/the universe/quantum energy/Allah etc. To me, it’s all the same. I’m pretty sure that God doesn’t care whether we refer to God as he or a she, nor what name we use.

Christianity is important to me as a framework for community and communion, for praise and healing and for unification with others through art, architecture, song and music. My home Church (where I was baptised) is St. James Episcopal Church, Austin, TX, and my paternal Grandmother Nancy Belle Johnson (nee Lawrence) was one of the original members when it was founded. St. James’s connection with music can be best understood through the annual Jazz at St. James event. My Father and Grandfather have both taken turns as the Church’s musical director and I know more than one soul whose life and/or sanity was saved by that church.

The other important churches in my life have all been Cornish: St. Cleer Parish Church (many harvest festivals and much singing); St. Germans Priory Church (my maternal Grandmother was confirmed there and my Dad’s funeral was there) and St. Clement Parish Church (my Grandmother was married and laid to rest there with her husband, and I was married there).

My Cornish family (the Tregonings) also have a long Church of England tradition, and through their mining heritage, work for the unions and later through their tinplate/metals/shipbrokerage fortune they funded and drove a lot of Cornish Church of England activity. Consequently they also funded and led health, education, fair wage (the 1874 list) & charity work through the Guardians of the Poor, the Working Lads society etc. in 19th Century Cornwall (mainly Launceston, Lezant & Tregadillett) and South Wales. The Dolcoath window in Truro Cathedral was donated by the Tregonings (and the Edes) as a memorial to the miners lost. My ancestor John Simmons Tregoning (JST) was devout in his faith and his work in building houses, schoolhouses, libraries & reading rooms for workers and their families was a great example (paternalistic as it was) of how Christianity, applied with love, can result in charity, activism and progress for oppressed communities. I’ll blog about all this properly sometime but if you're family or an interested Cornish history buff you can google his name for more info.

Both JST’s example and that of my Grandmother in Texas have played a part in my belief that Christianity, and organised religion in general has a purpose and positive role in shaping modern society and in positively influencing the actions of humans - despite the many violent examples throughout history of religion’s negative effects.

All of that said, it's a fact that much of Christianity is based on ancient Pagan rituals and festivals - even the date of Easter is still dependent on the date of the full moon. Other examples of this are abundant, including the sites of our holy wells in Cornwall, many of which were built on Pagan ritual sites.

Paganism is also an important spiritual framework for me, especially when it relates to my relationship to the natural world, the seasons, the collective, and for answering day-to-day emotional questions/my own introspection. I’d describe my musician mother as a pagan, though I’m not sure she would describe herself at all. Labels aren’t really her thing.

Growing up, we celebrated the solstices, we spent a lot of time at stone circles, went to spiritual events and festivals all summer and many of my childhood games where concocted using medicine cards, quoits, streams, or the art of Carolyn Hillyer. Most confusions were explained by the moon’s phase or by someone’s planetary birth chart. I feel Paganism on a more instinctive level day-to-day, but actually my most transcendent spiritual experiences have been in Church. I tend to cry when singing in Church, but then at home tend to meditate over tarot cards rather than pray to God for wishes to be granted. But also, attendance at midnight mass on my birthday (Christmas Eve) very often happened growing up.

I dislike individualism in both Christianity and Paganism. Witchcraft is very much still alive in Cornwall and though it’s not my thing, I know some very wonderful witchy women. Wicca, the occult, spell-casting and all that goes with it feels to me way too much like worship of one’s own will. I find that the worshiping of one’s own will (as opposed to trusting in something higher) is counterproductive at best, as a worldview. At its worst I have seen it become very self-serving and destructive. I put praying to God for “wishes to be granted” in that same category.

Asking a higher power for strength, grace or guidance, and practicing gratitude for all we receive (whether we wanted it or not) makes much more sense to me. We have to trust in God’s plan (aka The universe’s power to balance) in order to commune with it/him/her and in order to commune with each other. I find this helpful when answering the question “how can God let this awful thing happen?!” When we view God as the ultimate balancing power, and believe that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, then actually, the injustice of some of God’s “actions” suddenly makes sense. This balancing force could also be interpreted as quantum physics or as karma - depending on whether your belief system is science, Buddhism or a mixture of many. Or just “The Force” if you’re a Jedi ;)

I also dislike some of the rules and martyrdom in Christian teaching. Parts of the Bible read like a manual for a codependent relationship with an abusive spouse. There is humbling yourself, and then there is martyring yourself (or even punishing yourself) and I don’t think that the latter is healthy.

As an aside, Buddhist teaching is useful in finding balance between attachment to outcomes and giving of ourselves to others.

We also have some Judaism in my family a few generations back. I don’t know enough about Judaism, but like Islam, (which I know a bit more about), I respect it as another framework for spirituality. Also while we’re here - did you know that Muslims also believe in Jesus? They don’t believe in the resurrection, but they believe that he ascended to heaven after being raised there by God/Allah. To each their own and peace be with each.

As a mixed race woman, I identify as black AND as white, but not if one excludes the other. I feel the same about my Christianity and my Paganism. I will not be one if it means I can’t be the other, because I am both. I can’t deny my Paganism any more than I can deny my whiteness, and I can’t deny my Christianity any more than I can deny my blackness. And neither would I want to. So I claim all of it as part of who I am. Along with being Cornish and Texan, too.

Happy Easter, Happy Spring Equinox, Happy Passover, Happy sunshine...

No thanks

Perfect is the enemy of good

And perfect is the enemy of done

Love doesn’t care very much for perfect 

And perfect isn’t very fun

Life

There are great loves and good loves, painful loves and swift loves, life-long loves and momentary loves, learning loves and safe loves, passionate loves and comforting loves, vain loves and selfless loves, hot loves and mild loves, blinding loves and enlightening loves, whirlwind loves and meandering loves, quiet loves and triumphant loves, but as long as there is love, there will be life.

Capricorn season, aka baby-making season

How is Capricorn season treating everyone? In my experience as a Capricorn, people don't 'get' our sign. They're like "oh you're a stubborn goat" or "oh you're so ambitious" but they forget that we're the sign that starts the year, we bring the sun back when it disappears for a few days in the far northern hemisphere at the solstice, which kicks off Capricorn season. We're little combustion engines that can and we can't help it. We're cardinal earth. We're instigators. We're goats AND we're mermaids. It's in our nature to climb mountains and swim the depths of emotion, sometimes simultaneously. And I'm betting that's what everyone, regardless of your sign, is trying to do right now, with varying results, because we're now all deep into Capricorn season.

Sure, Cappys can be intense, and sure, we can struggle to live in the moment...but we're bloody good at forward motion and unblocking emotional barriers. Which makes sense when you look at our season. Everything is frozen rain but don't worry, we'll carry whatever you want from Christmas through to February. We'll get you through the darkness. We'll carry YOU if you like. And we'll help everyone process and feel their emotions while they're sitting in the darkness. We're perfectly adapted to January.

Any time of the year, we're the ones you want on your team when the proverbial is hitting the fan. Because we'll make a plan, start the task, make sure it gets finished and then our playful mermaid will come out and we will throw an awesome party to celebrate its completion. People think that we're the work hard, play hard sign. But what looks like hard to you is just our regular modus operandi. We don't know any different. We're moving to stay warm/alive. We were born in the freaking depths of winter. So that's why you're working so hard right now, in our season.

And I have lost count of the times I have been called emotionally detached or aloof. We may be good at your emotions, but we're told we're rubbish at our own. Being seen that way is a Capricorn thing, apparently. But we're just focussed, and earning our respect isn't very easy. If you're a fellow cardinal sign (Aries, Cancer, Libra) or a mutable sign (Virgo, Sagittarius, Gemini, Pisces), you probably think Capricorns are way aloof. But you fixed signs (Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius) know. You see our inner combustion engines and all the emotion bubbling under the surface fuelling our trek up whatever mountain.

And that's the crux of it. What seems like Capricorn control-freakery/emotional detachment to most people is actually just an ability to harness our emotions and use them for fuel for whatever needs to get done in this frozen month. We haven't got time for your drama and we're so direct because those who don't DO in January are starved and/or frozen by the time Aquarius season rolls around. A conversation I had the other day:

Friend: Anna, you're a Capricorn, how do I know whether this Capricorn wants me or not?
Me: He doesn't.
Friend: What? How do you know?
Me: Because if he did, you'd know already. We're very direct like that.

And that's the energy we're all living through right now, in Cappy season.

Capricorns also age in reverse, so it is said. We start out all 'should' and responsibility in our teens and twenties and get mellower and more fun as we get older. This is definitely my experience. And so it is the same with Capricorn season. The season starts off all preparation and family pressure for the holidays, and by mid-January, everyone's throwing caution to the gale-force wind and leaping into bed with each other to make babies. As a dear friend just reminded me, September is by far the most popular month for birthdays (hi Virgos!) because Capricorn season is baby-making season. So there's also that. It's in Capricorn's nature to just effing do it AND it's in our nature to be sensual sirens. Therefore, forward-focussed Capricorn season being the month when couples not only look to the future but CREATE the future is totally logical. And when it comes to sex for Capricorns, it is also all about that Cappy combustion engine. This is true of every Capricorn I know. Capricorns will use that skill of harnessing all of that emotional energy to get whatever task done. And then if you're lucky, we'll harness it to get you done. But you have to be very lucky (and direct), because we are as picky as you'd expect a mermaid-on-a-mission (who doesn't really want to stop moving in case she freezes) to be.

Hey presto, Capricorn energy = baby-making season. Forward looking, sensual, combustable, but with goals.

Hope you're all snuggling and seducing and working and achieving and don't worry, the full moon eclipse in Leo is on the way and we'll all have a good and healthy cry about everything then. Until then, try to avoid the things we do in excess in order to numb our emotions. Whatever that thing is for you, be it alcohol, food, netflix, sex, exercise or something else, know that by numbing your inner mermaid this season, you also numb your inner mountain goat. Your emotion IS your motion. Your emotions are your combustion engine. So feel them, accept them and use them to propel you forward into Aquarius season...see you there <3

Advent at Midlife

So this woman wrote my current emotional state. And before anyone tries to tell me that this is not my midlife, I know, but I have subconsciously lived my teens and twenties as though I’ll die at the same age as my dad, who popped off at 52 when I was 14. Which led to a whole lot of fun and games in a short space of time. 

Therefore, this feels kind of like midlife from one perspective. If this is the middle of my life, I will live twelve years longer than him and that’s good going in my book. I’m not living so fast anymore, and I intend to get really old and cranky... 💕

But it’s interesting to note the extra layers of stuff that grief leaves behind for us to sort through. Wednesday was the 18th anniversary of his death, and only this year have I been realising this aspect of how his departure shaped me. And it’s beautiful really, because it just shows how important he was, and is, to me.

I just stumbled across this poem last night and it is totally where I’m at just now. The irony is that as soon as I stopped rushing, I realised how much waiting I had also been doing, and then I realised I was no longer waiting, either. Because waiting and rushing are the same. They both assume that there is more than now, and that now is not enough. Or that I was not enough. Turns out it is, and I am. So that's nice 😉

It’s a lovely place to be, emotionally. I literally burn my best candles every night before bed. And I’m grateful. ✨

Advent at Midlife, by Mary Anne Perrone

I am no longer waiting for a special occasion; I burn the best candles on ordinary days.

I am no longer waiting for the house to be clean; I fill it with people who understand that even dust is Sacred.

I am no longer waiting for everyone to understand me; It’s just not their task

I am no longer waiting for the perfect children; my children have their own names that burn as brightly as any star.

I am no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop; It already did, and I survived.

I am no longer waiting for the time to be right; the time is always now.

I am no longer waiting for the mate who will complete me; I am grateful to be so warmly, tenderly held.

I am no longer waiting for a quiet moment; my heart can be stilled whenever it is called.

I am no longer waiting for the world to be at peace; I unclench my grasp and breathe peace in and out.

I am no longer waiting to do something great; being awake to carry my grain of sand is enough.

I am no longer waiting to be recognized; I know that I dance in a holy circle.

I am no longer waiting for Forgiveness. I believe, I Believe.

Photo: Christmas Day 2018 at mum’s

Art in photo: Lucy Turnbull Photography 

In memory of Lord Paddy Ashdown

Politics is indeed a very tribal business, and tonight, my tribe is grieving. Paddy Ashdown was already a hero to me, but when I met him a few months ago I was in already in awe when he gifted me some time and some extremely kind, encouraging, inspiring and hilarious words. He delivered this pep talk with his trademark cutting wit, dry humour and gung ho attitude. So sane, so direct, so clear in his observations, so willing to help. You can see by my face how he had the power to just make a person feel fantastic and moreover, he made us feel brave. He made a point of introducing his amazing wife Jane, for whom we are all feeling so much tonight. He tried in vain to get her to join us in this photo, and his adoration of her was so evident. Paddy was a legend, his quirks are the stuff of folklore within our tribe and the world is richer for his service to it, both as a Marine and in politics. Crying as I write this, but if anyone deserves a really great rest, it’s him. I’ll always remember this last full moon of 2018 as Paddy’s moon, and I’ll whisper a prayer that we can all find some of the stuff that he was made of. He was the best of us.

Your spirit, lover

No you’re not a project

You’re perfect as you are

There’s magic in your mess

And dark between your stars

Your universe can balance

Without its tenterhooks

You’ve left yourself the clues

In the margins of my books

You can read my pages slowly

You wrote them anyway

Though I cut out and rearranged them

Your spirit, lover, stayed.

On grief.

I love this time of year. November is my favourite month. I love Samhain and Remembrance Sunday and the turning of the seasons. I love the dark nights and the crisp mornings and the woodsmoke. Facebook memories tells me that 7 years ago today, Paul and Ally and I went on a pilgrimage to remember dad. Along the way we stopped at the Rod & Line pub in Tideford to see the plaque they put up for him. I think that the fact that I know my birthday (24th Dec), Christmas and the anniversary of his death (the night of 26th Dec) are right around the corner helps me to love November. I know that the hardest time of my year is right in front of me and somehow that makes me extra grateful for November. This wasn’t always the case, grief never leaves you, but it changes. Time can do almost anything, and I think that November reminds me how much is possible and how far we’ve come. Perhaps this pilgrimage 7 years ago helped with this. 

Over the next few weeks, let’s remember that for many people, the prospect of Christmas brings up grief and loneliness and let’s be gentle with each other.

 

Did you dance on the beach today?

Mum (just now, without a hint of self-consciousness): Did you dance on the beach today?

Me: No? What makes you think I may have danced on the beach?

Mum: Well - you were there by the waves and you took a video of them.

Me (laughing): Why does that mean I danced on the beach? Is that how you see me? That I just go to places and start dancing?

Mum (also laughing now): Well, no...I suppose that's what I do.

Me (laughing even harder): Yes.

Mum (a little indignant): Well you were with Julia's heart! 

Me (still laughing): Her family home is there. We walked around the cliffs to Harlyn and back. I did sing a bit, but we didn't dance on the beach. I love how you think that's the logical thing to do in this situation.

Mum: I just do a lot of dancing. 

She's such a legend. ✨😍 

Winter in the Valley✨🍂🍁

The light is as yellow and low as the sun

And I notice the length of shadows

The tribe hunkers in

To snuggle, eat and sing

And anticipate Yuletide to follow

The village is hushed, the tourists have gone

The air smells of woodsmoke at night

Hugs become bumper 

Through layers of jumpers

And the frost turns the moorland to white

The biggest night out of the tribal year 

Samhain, we dance and we laugh

We whoop and scream 

And let off our steam

And gossip in the aftermath 

Then Remembrance for boys who gave up their lives 

Our own chief, we’ll all hug him tight

Remembering when 

His brave absent friends

Sat proud to his left and his right

The seasons turn prompt in this here red valley 

Our Green Man has long since retired

Indian Summer’s

Officially over

When the landlord lights the pub fire

Softness and wool and velvet and sparkle✨

With a party dress worn underneath

The valley has mist

The air starts to nip 

Gathering greenery for my Yule wreath

Reunions, euphoria, stories and smiles 

Been upcountry but ended back here

Take stock with our kin

I’ll get the drinks in

We made it! To another year!

🍂🎃🍄🍁 

Kedgeree

Mother mine

Port Isaac maid

A tribute

To the life you gave 

You gave your love

Your magick life

To raise and guide

This awkward sprite

Made kedgeree 

To keep me strong

And when I sang

You heard my song

Paused your busy

Sat on your knees

To see my latest

Masterpiece

You wisely saw

Inherited smarts

Couldn’t compensate 

For a kind heart

Showed me that

The spirit world

Owed nothing to this

Loudmouthed girl

Create my own

Is what you prayed

Make it happen

Don’t be afraid

Responsibility

Didn’t always come

But you persisted 

Brave, tired mum

To know myself

You showed the need

For integrity

Thought, word and deed

You taught me manners

And not to blame

Be accountable

And hold others the same 

Invisible 

To all but you

My teens felt hard

We made it through

And now a woman

Here I stand

Sculpted by

Your artists’ hand 

Your music, magic

To me you give

A role model

Of a life well lived 

Your ear is there

And always was

Never reproach

Simply love

No matter the word

The deed or thought

You never judged

But always taught

I rebelled against

Your hippie ways

Went to the city

Tried “straight-laced”

But now contrite

My soul and bones 

Have returned to our 

Ancestral home 

Now Ma I find

Your Cornish song

Your way was my way

All along

And I consider

With clearer sight

That maybe mother 

Was always right!

Full Wolf Moon January 2017

Having lived by a tidal river for nearly half of my life (the River Tiddy/St. Germans Estuary and then in the Tamar Valley), like most people in those areas, I have a healthy respect for and connection to the moon.

A full moon high tide is very often something to behold, if not something to be warned about. Emotionally, a full moon can lead to all kinds of mischief within a tribe. Just as the Farmers Almanac thinks the moon is relevant for the best times to grow things, we need to pay more attention to it in our own lives. The moon features in every religion, and it moves our water in huge ways, every day, every month, every year. And remember, we are 78% water. So whatever your religious persuasion, the effect of the moon will be felt, so I think we should talk about it.

I pride myself in being a fairly logical person, but I'm also very intuitive, so I am moved to write about this full moon based on my own experiences/observations of nature and based on research, reading and listening to other moon-watchers, nature lovers and empaths talk about it. There is just not enough information around on this. I wish we had more writing about the full moons and less about the zodiac.

Wolf Moon

The Full Wolf Moon in January was traditionally called this by Native tribes based (as all their traditions are) entirely upon the observation of nature. The weather is bitter and the wolves are howling outside of the village for food. It was also called the old moon, the cooking moon, the quiet moon or the ice moon, depending on which tribe you were (on both sides of the Atlantic).

It's a time for reflection, protection, intuition and recuperation. You may naturally feel the need to sleep more during these short days and build up your health and energy post Yule, pre-Spring. It's often a time that the most physically hard-working among us rest a little and as a result, their body relaxes and they get sick - picking up whatever is going around their tribe. If that is you, REST MORE. Even if it is not you, take this time to be still and restful.

Recuperation - The Old Moon

Anything you may be feeling - low moods, existential tension or anxiety - can be explained by the time of year. It is not a good time of year for control freaks. If you try to fight the Wolf Moon and power on through without slowing down and practicing some self care, it will set the tone for you for the next 2-3 more moons ahead, and you'll be on the backfoot trying to catch your breath and refill your energy reserves. Prioritise rest and steady progress now.

Reflection - The Ice Moon

I say steady progress because the Native theme of the Full Wolf Moon is traditionally "Man vs Himself". Because there will be no harvest or plants for a long while, people and animals are naturally anxious, tired and the weather is cold. The lack of vegetation affects the whole food chain. This time takes an awful lot of mental resilience to keep going. You'll be tested by everyone else's low energy, low ebb and low moods. Hope may be low in those closest to you. But do keep steady. Keep plodding on with the wind in your face and the snow at your paws like the wolf. A hard new year exercise regime or extreme work on new ventures is not for now. Any attempt to light a fire under yourself just now is likely to end in you burning out quickly and spectacularly like a firework. Light a steady burning candle or a fire and pray.

Protection - The Cooking Moon

As the tribe hunkers down to rest and get through the month, we feel a sense of protectiveness, like a wolf mother and her pups. Use this time to connect and be gentle with your loved ones - eat nice, comforting food. Do not be neurotic about your health, and certainly not about your weight at this time of year. Forgive your loved ones everything. Now isn't the time for conflict or self service. Huddle for warmth. It will aid your recuperation.

Also, part of this protection is the need to let go of whatever or whomever did not serve you last year. Avoid those people (don't confront them - that comes later in the year). Take time for yourself, and huddle with those who make you feel peaceful, or with whom you can easily reach a state of peace with some forgiveness or humility on your part.

The practical part of protection is to prepare your home and your tribe for the year ahead. Organise your finances, check your smoke alarms, plan your holidays and festivals, buy furniture or lovely home luxuries in the sales. Because this isn't the time for production or plenty, purchase any essentials to help you to earn your money and enjoy yourself this year (workwear, swimwear etc.) and get the car serviced. Be grateful for it all and keep shopping trips short, and screen time low. This is recuperation time.

Intuition - The Quiet Moon

You will naturally feel your wildness is very close to the surface this month. You may have more dreams and you may find yourself thinking about your favourite natural place. The wolf is primal and hungry at this time of year. Don't let this become anger - don't snarl. Make love not war, as your sex drive may increase. Indulge it. Make as much love as you possibly can. It'll aid your connection with others, open your soul, help you recuperate and be strong, and it will aid circulation and keep you warm! As I said - huddle for warmth! This is a particularly sexy moon, so if single, you'll find that flirtation and promiscuity may surround you. It's ok, don't overthink it - people just want someone to huddle with! It's no coincidence that September is the most common month for birthdays - November, December and January are peak baby making months!

Also, whatever your spiritual persuasion, pray. Because your wildness is prevalent, your intuition is piqued and your connection to the spirit world is strong. Sit by the fire, pray and listen to what you are being told.

Finally, it may sound counter-intuitive for the recuperation month, but a few solitary leisurely walks (wrap up!) on high ground will actually aid your healing towards the end of the month. You are transforming as you recuperate, so let your old skin be blown away up on high ground. You'll also find that, like a lone wolf, the solitude on these walks helps you recharge, so you can go back to camp and get back to connecting, cuddling, cooking and lovemaking!

In strong support of Kanye West

So Kanye. Glastonbury. Sure. I admit it. I got annoyed at points of his show (Bohemian Rhapsody? No Kanye. Just no) - or worse, sometimes, I was bored. But in those boring moments I just muted him for a bit and before I knew it, he was back to "Diamonds from Sierra Leone" or of course, his big meal ticket, "Gold Digger". His carefully crafted light cube would pulse and the crowd would jump, and all would be forgiven. As an unashamed Kanye lover, I have to stress that I believe Kanye's music cannot be enjoyed for extended periods of time without a mute button for breaks, in any context. It is...intense. But. To enjoy Kanye is to bask in his world of wordplay, aphorisms and ego. Just for a bit. Oscar Wilde eat your heart out.

Here is a modern day musical Napoleon. Master of his craft, clever in his execution, paranoid, proud, sensitive and yet all conquering. Commanding a huge, somewhat evangelical following. Writing songs like "New Slaves" and "Blood on the Leaves". Taking on the modern American class war (the French Revolution this ain't) and writing a new story for black men through his monologues. Talking, (from his substantial platform) about society, his feelings (!) and God. And not giving a flying fig what you think about it. Sorry British public. Kanye didn't grow up in a world where fair play and politeness gets you ahead. So shoot him...

Thing is, he's not even a loveable rogue. He's power itself - a dictator who dresses his wife and probably designed his own lighting rig at 4am in the morning in Barbados and woke the whole household. And he took over Babington during the festival's duration. Here is control freakery for the masses. I really should hate him. But I don't.

Despite all of the petition controversy, when the time came, he went right up there and was his authentic, narcissistic, no-fucks-given self. That's pretty damn rock-n-roll. He's no people pleasing guitar monkey who gives the fans what they want on stage and then smashes up his hotel room later. Neither will he overdose in a bathroom, trying to medicate against his artistic angst. He's too extroverted for all of that. He's a businessman balancing genuine, wildly energetic self expression with shrewd commercial success. I admire Tracey Emin for the same (difference is I hate her work). 

I find watching his total self indulgence as he lets it all hang out on stage a relief both from the stuffy and politically correct shackles of our society, and from the rest of the music industry and its carefully contrived hair gel models. 

Yeezy makes great music, he just does. And if you listen to his lyrics, he's painfully honest and self aware about his super low self esteem and general douchebaggery ("Blame Game", "Runaway"). And no, he can't sing. Does he want to share the glory, royalties or the stage? Absolutely not. So along comes soul-bearing electro-pop concept album "808s and heartbreak" in 2008, and suddenly, auto-tune is a conceptual tool. A Kanye trademark. He OWNS the vocoder. He shows that he doesn't care that he's a rubbish singer, and suddenly, neither do we. For now he is positioned as an intellectual, emotionally literate VISIONARY, and regular singing is for plebs. He produces his own image just as he cuts a record. With a terrifying perfectionism and an instinctive sense of timing.

It is strategy like that which keeps Kanye on top. Would he sell more if people liked him more? Probably. But he's a superstar entirely on his own terms, and whilst I suspect him of being a bit of a massive knob in real life, I admire his raw talent and consider his self aggrandisement both a tool for his rise, and then a treat for himself after working hard all these years. And he has been. "Jesus Walks" (his fourth single) came out ELEVEN years ago. Feel old yet? Kanye is 38 now. The boy is, by most measures, a grown up. He is who he's going to be. 

Why, therefore, shouldn't he marry a glamour model who'll adore him? Why should he not scream "I'm king of the world!" or its equivalent?! He's an intellectual sociopath - he'll never be happy, so he may as well be a hedonist. When he swings above the crowd belting out "All of the lights" in a cherry picker, forcing you to squint up at him, his searchlight all but blinding you as it reflects off the glitter in your eyelashes, he's just getting his kicks and fucking with you at the same time. I get my kicks listening to his music. I don't mind him getting his. Humility is good, but there's also a place for energy, for passion, for yang, for fire and for chaos - it keeps us all on our toes and feeling alive. Without all that, we'd be dead. But we'd be humble, I guess.

Where there is chaos and conflict in music, that's where you'll find Kanye. He'll be the one carefully arranging it into witty poetry, with an African beat and some hi-tech samples. At worst, he artfully skirts between courting controversy and honing his commercial appeal - at best, he fuses the two in a maelstrom of media. He causes a ruckus, sets our news agenda for us, pumps out an anthem and continues to be the world's greatest living rock star. Even if he does say so himself.

"What more can you ask for?

The international asshole

Who complains about what he is owed?

And throws a tantrum like he is 3 years old

You gotta love it though somebody still speaks from his soul"

- Kanye West, Diamonds from Sierra Leone