It was a Black Moon. Lilith, See Me as I Am.
The sky brought a Black Moon as a closure for this intense month of September.
The Moon has risen in Libra, so relationships are at stake. It has been dark and powerful, so some of you, dear old friends, have left or will soon leave your space as October begins.
Some of our past relationships, identities and belongings must die when such a Black Moon speaks, because new beginnings want us entirely, wholeheartedly and fully committed that time.
Some of you, creatures of what is about to become the past, have never seen us for what we truly were, and never loved us purely, without the filter that expectations oftentimes bring in relationships.
Sometimes, the truth is that we love people for what we believe they are.
My old friends, of course I know how much you’ve cared for me, but you never truly understood and felt who I was.
I can feel the cords that you tried to place around my body because I left or because you couldn’t come with me to the other side, and they’re still holding me back.
This weight I feel is the guilt that the ones who decide to leave for a new life suffer, for those who stayed.
As October begins, and for the sake of this future that awaits, I need to get rid of the pressure of the past.
You’ve forced such a weight on my shoulders, imagined so many successes, achievements and exploits about me, you’ve pictured such a grandiose destiny — but all of those were never mine.
You would see me as a princess, an heiress, a model or a businesswoman. I would picture myself as a physician, a medicine woman, a soldier, an artist or even a dancer.
We never agreed, see. I’ve told you, but you never listened. Instead, you would smile in a kind and condescending way, thinking that I was such a lovely dreamer and that I would grow up perhaps, one day.
You’ve judged because you couldn’t understand. You’ve thought that I was going the wrong way — that’s what we do when we disagree, we’re human beings.
You were looking for some rational explanation in every move that I made. But I’m of the artists’ blood, of the ones that write the world in colors, and the recurrence of your questions have drained me, for so long.
You would see me as an academic or climbing all the ego-stairs up, while I would picture myself dancing in a long golden dress of the color of the crown and with a bright smile — the ones that only holy prayers give birth to.
You would see me bundled up in unaffordable suits, while I would visualize myself dreaming, as a thinker of words or a player with paintbrushes, making magic with letters or painting sunflowers with my hair blowing in the wind and my green eyes warmly tinkling.
You would see me behind working desks, while I was spaces, deserts, and dreamt of flowing like the wind.
You would see me as a scientist, but I’m a poet. You would imagine me as a geometer, an organizer or a banker, but I’m a priestess, a defender of the weak and a kind heart.
Let’s forget about that, shall we?
I understand that you haven’t.
I understand that people ignore when they can’t see. I remember that judging is easier that understanding.
This is the past, and there it shall stay.
But I have accepted your identities, your suits, your scarfs, your own expectations, your degrees and projects. I have tried and tried to see the good in what you were doing, and even to help, sometimes.
Just like I have supported you while you were navigating through those waters that seemed so impure to me, could you, as I have forgiven your hollers, your slowness, those cords that you placed, the yelling and judgmental words, forgive me for being who I am ?
Could you, as I have listened, understood and accepted you as you are, see us, the sensitives and artists, as we truly are ?
I’m wondering, could you accept that the world is immensely wide and that we all have distinct hearts?
But if you can’t, that’s okay. But could you at least let me go, would you let me fly and be myself?
Will you understand any time soon?
If not, that’s okay. You are the past, and I believe there you shall stay.
My tribe is waiting, and I must go.
I’m sorry, but my life will be for other souls from now on, and because sometimes — as was the case a few days ago with Lilith up in the sky — life is either black or white, big decisions shall be made.
The Black Moon has demanded a decision between the future and the past, for good and for real.
We’re asked to jump on the other side — body, heart and soul — and those who can’t come with us for our next chapters, in the past they shall stay.
Black Moons are witches. They are dark and intense and strong; they usually know no middle ground.
But I’m sure that we weren’t really meant to be, and that you won’t need me where you stand. Actually you never did, because what you were imagining about me wasn’t real, it was an illusion of yours or the picture of what you wanted me to be.
And I’m sure that I won’t need you on the other side either, because as you often said: We’re too weird, too lost and confused. Or perhaps we couldn’t adapt and be in the world as you did — isn’t this what you believed?
I’m sorry, but my tribe is calling, and I must go. I need to make some time and space available for good, if I want the future to happen and find me.
My tribe is waiting for me, and I must follow the route. So, as October begins, I’m riding the Black Moon and traveling to the other side — either with or most likely without you, old friends.
Sophie Gregoire is a thinker. You may often find her with a new idea or a new concept to explain, holding a notebook and pencil. Also found reading and writing, she is more than anything an independent soul. She enjoys traveling and getting lost in new places, namely in Asia. She says it helps understanding our worlds, its people and the humankind. She loves writing to transform her endless thoughts into some kind of reality, and to keep the little piece of sanity she still has. She savors coffee, encounters, Yoga and meditation, and cats… while her own cat is her greatest muse! You could contact Sophie via Facebook, her writing page or her website.