Triple Goddess, Triple Moon

The door closed behind me with a shhh-thdd, the sound barely noticeable beneath the audible layers of frog and night insect song. I became instantly alert. I haven’t been able to relax into the night out-of-doors since something attacked our rabbits in the garage, toppling one cage and making a furry occupant disappear in ominous smears of blood. Her sister is alone now, she of the moody disposition and the powerful name. Hecate, misnamed because in my early learning I confused Ostara, the springtime maiden goddess of rabbits, with the crone goddess Hecate, who is often accompanied by a pack of hunting dogs. The name fits better than the other would have for a black rabbit of fierce disposition and independent inclination, and it has proven lucky. Of all her family, she alone survives: her mother and older sister mysteriously died within two weeks of each other, and now her littermate carried off as somebody’s dinner. I could cry for how lonely she must be, used to the comforting warmth of her fluffle. It is the kind of echoing aloneness I feel when outside by myself on nights like that one.

“Hail, Diana,” I said aloud, raising one arm to the waxing moon before resting the palm over my heart. It always feels like an ancient rite, turning to the moon in solitude at night. She hangs there, dependable as the tides in her ever shifting forms. I spent a few moments bathing in her soft glow before gathering up the clothes’ drying rack I ventured out to collect. Somehow, when the moon is near full like this, she always finds a way to call me out to her. The full moon seems to have a regulatory effect on my body, like a pendulum finding its rhythm. I am home in my body, steeped in stillness and calm. Hail, Diana: a two-word mantra that initiates my homecoming on nights when the moon is bright. Diana, like Hecate, is associated with the moon, fertility and childbirth, hunting, and the underworld or death. They are both formidable women to emulate. It is only in this full or nearly full state that I feel comfortable doing so. I think I am beginning to understand why.

Diana, like Hecate and countless other goddesses around the world and across time, is a triple goddess. Her energy manifests as virgin/maiden, mother/mature woman, and crone/hag/wise woman. Compared to the goddesses, very few gods apart from the Christian Trinity seem to manifest in multiple form like this. The Goddess triple form is, of course, linked to the cycles of life that every woman walks through and which is more obvious for women than for men, due to the substantial changes our bodies undergo before, during, and after our “childbearing years.” These life cycles are tied to the phases of the moon: waxing, full, and waning. In a way, the moon reenacts the entire lifespan of a woman every 28 days. It is no wonder so many of us feel drawn to her gentle light and healing energy! Although it has been my intention this year to pay closer attention to the moon in all her phases, it is a habit I have had difficulty establishing. I am not accustomed to going outside by myself at night, the evening is for finishing up those last few kitchen tasks I didn’t get to earlier and then crashing on the couch to fold laundry and watch Netflix with my husband until we stumble off to bed. Evening is not when I ground myself with moonglow. Unless, of course, I happen to have a reason to go out, like laundry forgotten in the dinnertime rush. Or perhaps I didn’t really forget at all.

On Sunday I attending a workshop called Fire of Desire led by multi-faith mystic of the Divine Feminine, Mirabai Starr. For an entire hour three thousand women from around the world—and a few men as well—warmed our hearts in the blaze of Divine Feminine love and connection. During that time, we were directed to write nonstop for several minutes about “our deepest desire.” What came out surprised me, as such writing usually does. “My deepest longing,” I wrote, “is to embody myself as Divine.” I wasn’t supposed to stop or pause but I did, looking down at the brave words my subconscious had printed on the page. What does it mean to embody one’s self as Divine? I moved on, perhaps answering my question.

I wish to take on the world in cycles, virgin, mother, and crone. None all at once but each in turn. To be set apart and focus on me. To nourish, protect, and create. To lead and speak as a voice of wisdom, one to be heard, a voice worth heeding. I long to follow these cycles, perhaps in tune with my cycles, or the moon, Diana in triplicate, Herself and myself and us together beating our hearts into the rhythm of life here on earth, our hearts in tandem with the Mother, our hearts as One.

Deep down, I am longing for balance within myself, and unity with the Divine. Deep down, I feel that I can achieve both through the intentional practice of Moon-Goddess phases.