The time of the dark moon is here. It would be nice to think that I have it all together, and you know what, I imagined compared to a lot of folks I do but comparisons don't count for much. One little word, one spectre of misfortune can set me to worrying. I worry over matters like people paly with sore teeth.

The dark moon is like a sabbath, only more so. On a good old fashioned Sabbath one might do work, but it would turn out okay. Nowadays everyone works regardless of what day it is and no one thinks about Sabbaths or holy days so it doesn't seem to matter. Or maybe it does. Maybe it's because people violate holy times now, that so little of what we do turns out whole. I don't know.

But back to the matter of dark moons. Among hedgewitches or shamans or lots of people with good sense there are only certain times of the year when certain things may be undertaken, and only certain times of the month even when things may be done. After the moon has fulled it is time to let go, and during the days of the dark moon it is an intense sort of sabbath when no new thing should be started. Nothing good has ever come for me from trying to violate this. And so for these days I am stil and contemplative. I meditate and pray more and... worry more... about what I can't change, the things that I cannot force. Tonight, when I close my eyes and go to the place of peace I hear all around me voices that ask a simple question: "Why can't you let go. Let go. Why don't you let go?"

My hands clench so tightly on everything even as I smile and sigh with supposed relaxation. There is so much of which I should let go. And I am so often unwilling.