Over the last decade, I’ve become deeply connected to the cycles of life—mostly through the rhythms of seasons and years. That cadence has brought a kind of steadiness to my nervous system and a reminder that things bloom, fade, rest, and begin again. Not everything needs to happen all at once.
Lately, though, I’ve felt pulled toward a more daily and monthly rhythm through the moon and the sun.
(Honestly? Part of me has resisted this because I’ve wondered: if I really commit to noticing these rhythms, could I keep up with them?)
Still, the pull has been there.
So last week, I finally I sat under the full moon and meditated.
I’ve sat with the moon before. I’ve been part of rituals and drum circles and collective gatherings. But this felt different.
This was personal.
Just me, the still night, and the bright, receptive moon reminding me to pause, turn inward, and listen.
I found myself reflecting:
What has become clear to me in recent weeks?
What am I quietly done with?
What am I still holding onto?
What feels heavier than it needs to be?
What is releasing right now?
And what surfaced surprised me a little.
I realized shame has been more active than I wanted to admit.
Not dramatic shame. Just that subtle shaping force that keeps asking me to measure my life against other people’s definitions of success while also saying survive, subsist, squeeze yourself into the cracks and be grateful for whatever space you’re allowed to occupy.
That’s a narrow crevice to live in.
But I think I’m done with that.
Or maybe more honestly: I’m ready to learn the lesson and step out of it.
Because shame gets us nowhere.
What’s becoming clear is that I’m a natural teacher—but that doesn’t mean I always need to be the leader. I’m realizing I want to build things in my business that are not merely enough, not just functional or surviving, but complete, beautiful, nourishing, and FULL.
The phrases “lush life” and “bhakti yoga” kept floating through my mind.
Not indulgence for indulgence’s sake. Not performative abundance.
But a life rooted in devotion. Presence. Love. Service.
Fill and take space.
Linger.
Journal.
Nourish.
Love deeply.
Grow intentionally.
Take the extra moment and the extra step—not to prove worth, but because care matters.
Luxuriate not in excess, but in attention. In reverence. In allowing life to be fully inhabited instead of merely endured.
Something about receiving the moon and creating ritual under her felt like a first step toward that kind of life.
A slower simmer. A fuller inhale. A different way of belonging to myself.
And now I’m curious:
Do any of you work with celestial rhythms as part of your grounding or regulation practice? Moon cycles? Sunrises? Seasonal rituals? What does that connection look like for you?
I’d love to hear.
Love, Renee