My moods are often so reflective of the current moon phase that it was not surprising that I found myself uncluttering a spare room closet today.  I will enter a place of storage within our home with a clear purpose of procuring one item in particular, and end up discovering several items that are no longer serving their purpose.  If the moon were not in its current waning phase, I may not have become so hell-bent on discarding unwanted incidentals.  Otherwise, I would have located the gift wrap that I had originally set out to find without becoming so totally distracted by all the other things that were perfectly fine right where they were.  Instead, I plucked things from their hiding places within the closet and started a formidable discard pile.  I thank the waning moon for all the black garbage bags gathered from the Bean home over the years. They have since found a place to serve elsewhere.

We have moved so many times in the past decade that there are still several boxes stored in and around our home that remain unpacked.  The majority of these boxes are filled with mementos, mostly keepsakes and souvenirs that we have acquired over time but were not yet ready to part with.  I spent so much time and energy organizing, securely packing, and labeling these boxes that it was easier throughout every move to just keep them sealed and ready to transport to the next house.

Now that we have been in our current home for over four years, the number of these boxes has decreased significantly, as each was given proper re-evaluation when time allowed.  Among the few boxes that remain are those that belong to each of the kids (who can decide the fate of their respective contents) along with a few boxes of my own.

The box that I came across this morning is one that I had packed at least a dozen years ago when Mr. Bean and I moved from our first home.  I had not forgotten about it, but knew that since it contained several possessions from my childhood years, there had never been any reason for me to open it and re-evaluate its contents.  Until this morning.

Before my younger sister Evie came along to ruin my baby status, I had enjoyed ten glorious years of privileged attention.  During those years, I had received an assortment of jewelry cases as gifts on many occasions.  I have kept a few for sentimental reasons, among them a small rectangular white box painted with small flowers on the top and sides.  As I poked through the contents of the long unopened storage container this morning, I was drawn to this one in particular.  I snapped open its tarnished brass latch and was delighted to be greeted by the little pop-up ballerina when I opened the lid.  I wound the turn-key on the back, pleased to hear that the components of the music box were still intact.  I smiled as it played the familiar tune “Fly Me to the Moon.”  (And that’s not even the best part of my morning!)

Among the various trinkets that were scattered within the faded blue lining of the jewelry box was the soft pink beaded rosary that had been given to me by my godmother for my First Communion.  For those of us who may be counting, that would be at least forty years ago.

As the energetic vibrations surrounding our physical existence may expand and travel in a pattern similar to the grand sphere that we reside upon, I would say that my spiritual experience has come full circle.  Let me attempt to sum this up without writing a chapter book:

Any individual who was raised in the traditional mainstream practice of Catholicism never really ‘leaves’ the church officially.  Some of us sort of ‘duck out’ over time when we begin to question the decision made by our ancestors to delegate the task of influencing the Universe to a select few individuals who are elevated to positions of authority.  Some of us may even pretend that we still attend mass for awhile, particularly when in the company of our older relatives.  Eventually the guilt wears off enough (or maturity sets in) and we refrain from that charade, as well.  Certainly there are a few of us who do not broadcast to our elders that we have found comfort in another denomination, since we may wish to avoid the week-long crying and shouting festivities that may ensue among them.  And finally, although I would never advocate having to hide articles in your own home from visiting relatives, there are yet a few of us who find it a lot less trouble to slip the Goddess necklace under our shirt when we are outside of our home visiting older relatives.

That being said, I was fortunate to have had a grandmother who retained her pagan ways, although she did so “in secret” for fear of being judged.  The few insights that she was able to pass me under the table, so to speak, may have been the catalyst to my initiation into a local coven over fifteen years ago.  Being baptized and confirmed in the Catholic church, along with the fact that I attended Catholic schools for twelve years, had assisted in providing me with a natural comfort level and familiarity with the aspects of ritual practice.

Although I retain my sisterhood among my coven, I have found my spiritual expansion most gratifying (as well as practical) when practiced among my fellow Beans and in solitude.

And now here is my rosary, an artifact saturated with an old energy that would most likely have highlighted my faults and limitations.  To reconnect with this tool provides an opportunity to cleanse and transmute its properties to reflect the new energy of that which I have become.  In last night’s post, I wrote of the inherent power in the sound of a prayer.  How timely to have discovered a personal vehicle to communicate with the Divine.

Perhaps I will sing a new Hail Mary in french!

Tags: Catholicism, Goddess, moon phase, new hail mary, paganism, rosary, waning moon