Why Do We Call It A ‘Blue Moon’? Symbolic Meaning of Blue Moons
At the time of this writing a blue moon is approaching tonight, May 21, 2016. What’s up with that? What’s does the blue moon mean? Plenty.
Let’s start by explaining what a blue moon is. Basically, there are normally three moons in a season. Every couple years an extra moon crops up. Hence the cliché “once in a blue moon” akin to describing a rare event.
Pretty simple explanation, right? But what’s up with the colorful moniker? Why do we call it a blue moon? Why not “weird extra moon”?
I mean, blue moons aren’t even blue all the time. They can be any color. The hue of this moon comes into play as an effort to identify an anomaly. Why? I’ll explain.
As par with all assignments in symbolism – it’s hard to pinpoint an exact origin. The term “blue moon” crops up in lots of places during different eras.
It’s widely agreed blue moon is a term of the Old Ways. It started with those savvy country folk who lived and died by the rule of Nature. In ancient Gaelic, the word blue identified the color, but it also had dodgy connotations. In Gaelic slang, the word blue was used to express indecency or inappropriateness. In old French, blue signified a low mood. Hence the phrase “I’m feeling blue”.
If we pull on this blue thread, we might wonder why dub an extra oddball moon as a bad thing? Pretty simple answer. Country folk of the Old Ways were profoundly connected to the earth. When I say they lived and died by the rule of Nature, that is oh-so-true. From crops to cows, cures to ceremony – earth and sky was the source of it all. So what’s the blue moon connection?
An extra moon in a growing season can do some really wonky things to everything. It affects human behavior, animal behavior, and it certainly influences growth of crops/plant-life. Full moons pack powerful punches once a month. But twicea month – whoa Nellie!! Stand back for a walloping effect. Ergo, this renegade extra moon became known as the ‘indecent moon’ or ‘inappropriate moon’. Basically it was an unwanted moon because to ancient country folk, it wreaked unpredictable results in life.
So that’s the winding road to answer the question “why do we call it a blue moon?” But I can’t leave it at that. I have this compulsion to turn frowns upside down. What if we flip this bad blue moon rap into a better perspective?
We can look to the same ancient folklore that gave the blue moon its indecent proposal from the beginning. The Old Ways tell of amazing results when we appeal to the power of the blue moon. Whoa? Yeah! Instead of getting freaked out over the unknown influence of this moon – we can harness its power – purposefully and profoundly.
This rare’ish lunar event is a perfect time to get serious about our affirmations. When we solidify our intentions during a blue moon, this moon blesses it in a big way. Think of it like sowing super-sonic powerful seeds in our lives. Then consider the blue moon adding magic lunar juju to our seeds – insuring the likelihood of successful sprouting of our dreams.
In short: Offer up your dreams and expectations for the future to this blue moon. Connect with Dame Bleue Lune on a personal level. Envision this dynamic, cerulean Lady Luna as a giver of second chances and big gifts in your life.
Blue moons have historically proven themselves to be catalysts for mind-blowing life-events. Don’t miss the chance to utilize this thin slice of night life. It’s time to boogie in the moon light and dare to dream for your best future.
Interestingly, the Old Ways document a domino effect with this action. If you engage the blue moon to aid you in your future manifestations, it will set factors in motion that will last until the next blue moon – which is about three years in the future. Considering this is a time of impressive influence, energy and potential – it behooves us to choose our wishes for the future wisely.
I hope this post on “Why do we call it a blue moon?” was illuminating. At very least, I’d like to think this post inspires you to wander outside and simply appreciate the bountiful beauty of this blue moon (even though it likely won’t be blue). If you do go lunar-watching, do me a favor. Just give thanks. Thanks for the little things, big things, and everything in between. But especially give gratitude for this glorious universe in which we live.
As always, my thanks to YOU for reading!
Bright lunar love,
Click the links below for more symbolic meaning of moons…
Friend, mentor, teacher, compatriot. I’m talking about Vera, a fellow “walker-in-the-woods” of life’s winding and wonderous paths. I adore her perspective, and her writing. You’ll see why in her guest post below. Please warmly welcome Vera as she takes us on a journey through her garden gates, where wild things romp and wisdom hangs its hat on every blade of grass.
Vera is my chosen name, belonging to my grandmother, who lamented never having someone named for her. To remedy, I call myself after her…. besides we look so much alike! Imagine Hobbit hill woman, hands on hips, elbows out, hen-like, poking and scratching the ground, yep that’s me, with the pointy gnome hat, magical shoes with shiny buckles cobbled by industrious elves.
I’ve been invited to guest blog ….. so here goes……
Morning’s these days are a riot of noise, coming from the bush outside my bedroom window. In gladness, birds sing up the sun and call forth the newly greening of the ground. Spring’s herald in my neck of the woods wears a robin’s red breast, the yellows and purples of April’s harlequin fool…(violets, crocus and daffodils are first to leave the gate) and the starry undeniable presence of the Orion over head in the early evening sky.
I’ve been blessed with my own little patch of earth to steward, and once again, it’s time to take stock of all the merry volunteers making their thrust toward the light. This is also the time to survey what was lost, as sometimes even with best efforts, some thing’s just don’t take. (oh no! Not the new roses….. Good thing the nursery has a one year guarantee!)
Tedious chores like tossing gravel back into the driveway that was shoveled into all manner of nooks and crannies of the yard and lawn from last winter’s snow management, or gently removing the odd chaff collected here and there demand attention. What shall I do with the tree limb that fell during a particularly vigorous wind? Cut, stack and burn in some sacred fire when ready of course!
I’m struck by how many different shades of green there are. Dusty sage, kelley, chartreuse, teal and all manner of the afore mentioned variegation to name a few. I’m blown away by what’s already a foot high, tulip…dock…crown imperial. It’s like welcoming back old friends, and I’m so glad to reacquaint!
Tiny splashes of green do this magical Monet-like spotty appearance as seeds fulfill their promise, that take on familiar patterns and shapes, most are welcome, some not so much (may all your weeds be wildflowers!).
Where I’m from, most trees are still in stasis now, with the exception of the globe willows that now sport the faint blush of leafing out. That welcome green of living color grows stronger every day.
Sunlight feels different now, sweetly stronger, warming like a lover’s kiss as it teases in playful hide and seek behind clouds pushed about by winds that still have a bite.
I have an endearing nickname for pansies. I call them “smiling faces.” They cheer even as they shiver in the breeze. This year I chose a wine-berry mix for the box by my door and yellows and red for the bowl by the street.
Heck, all blooms and blossoms to me have that effect…their beauty is their smile. Can you tell yet that out-of-doors is my element? That my personal hero was Tasha Tudor? That I’m partial to “flowery” language with a hint of tongue in cheek?
My prized possessions are perennial in nature like peaches, strawberries and apples, and the smell of roses or shade from my favorite tree on a hot day. My constant companions are chickens and a couple dogs.
My heart’s desire are for wild things to drop by for a visit, like quail, cock-pheasant, martin and wren. Owls and hawks are welcome too, only if they behave themselves with peaceful intentions.
In closing, I am so pleased to meet you all through words. To those who may have been sent into a diabetic coma, I beg your pardon. I’m new at this. :)
Welcome to my garden, and kindly tread softly, living things grow below.
I recently had the opportunity to interview Mike Bastine, a Native American Algonquin, who has been speaking about the necessity of re-connecting to Nature as a means to reform consciousness. It was an utter delight to spend time with Mr. Bastine, and equally uplifting to share common views with him. He’s got revolutionary insights anchored in ancient wisdom. Perhaps his words in this interview will contribute to your own conscious-reform for the better. Or, perhaps these views might maintain your own re-connection to the Mother (Nature). Enjoy!
The landscape cracks open like an egg in my view. The bright orange yolk of sun hangs, suspended in the albumen of a clear liquid sky. I’m driving along a curvy route to a quiet rural town to meet with Algonquin visionary and educator, Mike Bastine.
On the drive, the scenery unfolds like a Monet; billions of auburn-amber leaves splatter like dots on the rolling hills of Autumnal glory. It’s a two hour drive, stuffed with Natural beauty. The soft ride offers ample opportunity for me to ponder the upcoming meeting with Mr. Bastine.
Although diligent about suppressing any kind of pre-conclusions about this interview, electric expectation still amplifies my anticipation. I am meeting a Native master of tenets that have ignited my own elevated understanding; tenets essential to the broader soul-growth of so many people over human history.
My time with Mike Bastine, however, produces no glamour. No spiritual huff-n-puff. No fluffy clouds filled with insubstantial vapors about spirituality. Rather, Bastine proves to be a Plymouth rock of foundational wisdom. He radiates reverence for simplicity. He is rooted in the value of rekindling the heart of humanity; encouraging attunement with the energies of Nature, love and respect. No fancy juju; just bare-boned wisdom, exposing a soulful, nurturing marrow.
My car pulls into his driveway. Beyond the weathered, wood-clad exterior of his home, rests acres of maples waving goodbye to their own falling leaves. Rows of cornfields maze the back yard, their husks brown and crinkly, jutting up to the glassy sky.
My ears perk, hearing a yawning creak from the front screen door as I gather up my notebook, camera, and recording device from the car. It’s Mike Bastine walking out to greet me.
Mike’s Native blood etches clear evidence of his Algonquin heritage in his appearance. His skin is naturally tawny, obviously unaided by the sun’s tanning effect, especially as winter begins her progressive swallowing of solar rays. His hair is long, pulled back in a pony tail. It shines in onyx iridescence and reminds me of silky crow feathers.
He welcomes me with a smile; a smile that equals the cheer reflected inside his home. I struggle to pull off my boots before entering. “Oh no, you don’t have to do that.” Mike says, chuckling, as I almost topple over. “Keep those on. Stay warm. Snow and mud aren’t sticking to the bottoms of our feet just yet.” We both break the initial conversational ice by agreeing how mild this year’s autumn has been.
Mike and I sit at his kitchen table. Pens and pencils stand at attention in a clean white cup, anxious to be put to use. Books and papers are neatly stacked on the table too. Mike thoughtfully pulls out a few of the many articles written about him for me to read. He pauses for a moment and pulls out a few books for me to look at too.
Pam, Mike’s wife, offers me a hot cup of green tea and a cinnamon pecan danish. I’ve just met these people, but it feels I’ve been a welcomed visitor in this kitchen for an eternity. Time is irrelevant. Indeed, the energy of their home is timeless, comforting and tremendously safe. I am calm, I am at home in their presence.
The black pot-belly stove churns out its warmth as Mike begins to do what he does best: Weave his spoken words into exquisite tapestries. Native wisdom is his loom, and Mike threads rich value into each sentence spoken. His voice is a smooth, lulling tenor and his words are framed in the rhythmic compassion that steadily beats within his heart.
For decades, Mike Bastine has travelled the US and Canada speaking about the wisdom of his Native ancestors, illustrating how Native ways are a catalyst for healing, renewal and reconnection to a higher way of living life.
“I’ve been bringing up a few terms in my workshops lately.” Mike begins, his soft brown eyes sparkling. “Terms we all learned in early schooling. I ask people how they feel about the phrase ‘Divide and Conquer’ and most people tell me it’s kind of a standard of life today.”
Mike explains that the modern Western civilized mind has been trained to weed out ‘weakness’ and conquer life by working hard at maintaining status quo. “Mainstream thought mostly adheres to popularly accepted, spoon-fed education and doctrine.” He says in his sing-song dialect. As Mike talks, my understanding lulls into compliance with his argument with this commonly accepted phrase.
“Today, most people’s perception of strength and weakness is skewed. There’s more strength in the gentle than there is in the bold. Gentleness accumulating over time – that’s where the power resides.” Mike taps his calloused-covered fingertip on the Xerox copy he gave me of Chief Seattle’s speech. “That’s part of what Seattle is saying in this address.”
Mike closes his eyes, and I wonder what scenes are playing beneath his eyelids. “The idea of ‘conquer’ is equally misleading.” He says, “What is there to conquer? If we each lived aligned to our True Nature, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation!” He pushes back a bit from the kitchen table after finishing this thought, as if sitting objectively – seeing a broad view of the human condition from his wicker-backed chair.
“The idea of ‘divide’ is just an illusion. Nature shows us different. Nature shows us progress only comes with inclusion, acceptance, absorption. Nature shows us surrender. That’s what evolutional progress is about.” Mike lets out a lightly exasperated chuckle, with a slightly discernable shaking of his head.
” I ask these same people in my workshops how they feel about another common phrase we’ve all been taught: ‘In God we Trust.’ I get the same kind of mental agreement. But I have to question this. How can we believe in ‘Divide and Conquer‘ and ‘In God we Trust’ at the same time?” Mike’s passion about these points of contention is clear, but his core demeanor does not waiver. He remains solidly anchored in a place of peaceful contemplation as he speaks to me.
The Algonquin Elder continues his thought-stream about Western culture’s unconscious acceptance of these two statements. “How can we be divided and yet trust in one God? This mentality is where the breakdown of disconnect to Nature stems.” Mike says softly, sad kindness lacing his voice. To him, unity is a far more viable solution to living a life of true freedom.
Mike leans forward on the kitchen table to drive his point home: “Prior generations had Elders to teach us about relationships. Primarily the marriage between humans and this planet. But now those teachings have fallen by the wayside. This causes separation. We have become distanced from the higher wisdom of Nature, love and goodness.” Mike further contends this disconnection has lead to an inflammation of humanity’s highest conflict: The conflict between the heart and the ego.
“We must think independently. We can’t think what we’ve been educated to think, because it’s not what this life is about. We must observe what’s going on today and rejoin the ranks of our Elders who looked to Nature for assistance with answers.”
Mike Bastine gently illustrates how many of today’s youth are no longer educated by their Elders who have been steeped in the nurturing, honorable ways of the Great Spirit and the ways of Nature. Today, our youth are educated by capitalist systems whose primary impetus for functioning is money and conformity. It’s a disturbing observation. Mike points out a fundamentally flawed educational system that produces fact-filled sheep, designed to follow (and not overthrow) the powers that be, namely, the government. More unsettling, is the valid observation of mass-media’s role in raising our youth.
“If we look at the bigger picture of what’s happening around the world, and we see the events – how they connect. How they unfold. How they evolve. We can start to see that disconnection is the source of great upheaval.” Mike’s hands are upturned; his arms slightly raised in a supplicating gesture as he utters these words. He speaks like a man who sees problems and feels frustration because he knows how simple the solutions are.
The furrow in Mike’s brow smoothes back into its customary serenity as he expands his revelations: “This disjointed gap….the inability to connect human thought and behavior with the deeper functions of Nature….this is the sole flaw that prohibits the flow of peace.” This flaw, Mike explains, is aggravated by the lack of unity and acceptance being taught by our modern elders, who are our politicians, educators, doctors, etc.
“I wish there were little manuals written about how to be a good human. How to make choices that honor and respect our world and all that lives in it.” I nod my head and smile, thinking about how Mike’s ‘How to be a Good Human’ manuals might not be the most ideal replacement for wise Elders in our modern-day global tribes. But, I silently agree these manuals would be a good start at defining simple steps for reconnecting to the Golden Truths inherent in every human heart.
“When enlightenment dovetails and becomes manifested into the outward happiness of being, do you think something like the definition of ‘a metaphor’ is essential to sustaining that education? No! It doesn’t take rocket science to gain a higher education. This is about human interaction conducted with respect.” Mike makes this statement with conviction backed by the wisdom of his lineage. His faith in the cathartic, healing practice of unifying with the foundational energy of Nature, humility and honor is unshakable.
As Mike Bastine carefully crafts his words and purposefully narrates his perceptions, I recognize him as a visionary educator. Why? Because he can see into the human heart and there he greets only the heart’s inherent potential for goodness in spite of the presence of malignant understanding. It takes a visionary to see the spiritual gifts hiding behind ugly curtains of the ego.
I get the sense that Mike is not entirely aware of his ability to overlook the presence of fear feeding the human heart. His unsinkable faith in each human’s inherent goodness overrides the presence of fear and pain glaring back at him when he speaks about ‘consciousness-reform.’ In every word and movement, it’s apparent Mike knows the path to higher societal evolution is born from virtue and devotion to the grounding cornerstones of Nature.
Mike continues his mission to reveal the true values indwelling every heart, and how each heart is hard-wired to reconnect with all life in loving ways. His unwavering belief in human potential makes him both a visionary, and an exemplary educator in the realm of thoughtful unification with elements of life that truly matter.
The warm bubble of the Bastine’s hospitality cannot be popped as I drive back to the pointy edges of city life. The yolky sun is pressed behind me now, enhancing a sense of warmth and nourishment. Driving back the way I came, my mind turns with the soft curves of the road as I think about our discussion.
My intent for this piece was to capture the essence of Native American wisdom; writing about how the ways of Native Elders provide healing to the human heart – – healing wisdom that prepares each of us for future global shifts we are all destined to experience in the process of living life on this Earth today.
But really, after listening to Mr. Bastine, my lofty intent dissolved into particles of more substantial import. As the hills of the countryside roll behind me, I think of Mike’s parting thoughts:
“The value of simplicity. The value of independent thought. The value of re-connecting to Nature and its wisdom. These are small, incremental choices of honor we can all choose to make. These are the functional building blocks for re-connecting to life’s vitality.”
Ultimately, Mike Bastine helped me understand that it is not so much the intellectual or spiritual path we choose, but how we utilize our faith and educational choices – that is the true catalyst for global unification and peace. Essentially, every moment is an opportunity to ‘Unify and Conquer’ rather than divide and perish.
Last night, in the dreamtime, symbolic seeds were sown into the meaty furrows of my brain. Their manifested identities known only to my deeper consciousness. It was a fabulous sensation. The grey matter of my mind seemed willing, pliable and moistly awaiting the first touch of root to mental-membrane.
A good dream. An oracle of potential growth. A sign of depositing new ideas into old rows with the hope and promise of a bumper crop of…of what? Creativity? Productivity? New kinds of nourishment? Food for a hungry mind? New neuro-network patterns?
Who knows. Dream-walking advances at a far different pace than common ambulation. That means, I’ll have to walk calmly between multiple time-lines to see the cycles of growth these dream seeds represent.
But in the meantime, while I’m weeding, feeding and cerebrating over these dream seeds, I thought I’d sow a few symbolic thoughts on seeds as a symbol of consciousness.
Traditional symbolic meaning of seeds include:
Several years ago, while dining with a colleague, he asked: “What’s the symbol for consciousness?”
In response, I pulled out a pen and drew a single dot on a paper cocktail napkin.
“That’s it?” He asked.
“Yep, that’s it.” I said, “The dot represents a single point of awareness. It is, essentially, a seed. It is the point of pure potential. This present moment of focused consciousness gives no clue as to which side of the polarity it leans. There is no gender, no higher or lower, no light or dark. It simply is.”
My colleague protested: “But isn’t consciousness expansive? Pervasive? Everywhere at all times? This dot, or seed suggests limitation, and that’s not how I see consciousness.”
I loved this observation, and after pausing a moment to let his implications sink in, I responded:
“Yes, I agree with your model of consciousness. However, I chose this dot to represent a seed as a symbol of consciousness because it is the point of initiation. Awareness must be initiated. And the concept of initiation is inherent to the ancient symbolism of seeds. So, it’s the idea of initiation…specifically, initiating the potential that is powerfully packed in a small unit (a dot, a seed) that I’m emphasizing here.”
I was reminded of this conversation when I woke from my seed dream.
Those crazy brain seeds! That tiny dot drawn on a cocktail napkin. A single unit of initial potential!
These images made me want to become that dot…to become a seed and
Auger a sense of stillness in the midst of daily bustling.
Be as a seed is: Patient, Potent, Packed with potential.
Be silent, rest in a damp darkness, suspended.
To “just know,” and own remarkable wisdom without the necessity to prove it.
Submerge in resolute assurance that transition, growth and ascension is inevitable.
Realizing I haven’t written much on beetles, I thought I’d share my insights here.
Suggested symbolic meaning of beetles (at-a-glance):
Beetles speak to us of groundedness. They move with bellies always close to the earth, and so their wisdom is sacred and deep. They are connected to the core of earth, and so they are rooted in their knowledge about the way of life and nature.
Beetles also talk to us about steady, gradual progress. Observing them, they do nothing without pragmatic, methodical movement.
Beetles impart messages such as:
“Get to the root of your desire”
“Be practical in your expectations of progress”
“Find stability in simplicity”
“Anchor yourself in honest, true, natural ways”
Beetles also remind us of the simple things in life, and point our attention to the magic in the small. A friend of mine, Kim Gould at www.loveyourdesign.com says this: “allow yourself to be tamed by the small and gentle.” Beetles can tame us because of their simple, unassuming presence.
The symbolic meaning of beetles also offers protection. Their own hard shells do more than just convey glimmery beauty. They protect. And so, the beetle (in countless cultures, particularly Asian) is considered a symbol of protection too.
The colors of your beetles will also offer meaningful messages.
For example, greens talk to me about the heart chakra which is the center for healing, love and compassion. Blue hearkens to the throat chakra which encourages creative expression and vocalizing our real truth…our genuine truth…I’m not talking about speaking a false-truth like “I am sick” I’m talking about the realtruth that recognizes inherent health & well-being indwelling the body/soul at all times.
Beetles also reminded me of the Egyptian scarabs which are all about building our best, most incredible opportunities from the poop around us. :)