Once in a Blue Moon
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Once in a Blue Moon
| Wed, 05-30-2007 - 5:33pm |
I just googled 'blue moon traditions' and came across this article... I think it's fabulous and really gets me thinking about creating my own blue moon traditions. Read the article, and I'll post my ideas below...
Once in a blue moon
Column: Always in Season
Donna Henes
ReligionAndSpirituality.com
ReligionAndSpirituality.com
May 29, 2007
When a month is graced with two full moons, the second one is called a blue moon. You know, the once in a blue moon blue moon. May 2007 is a blue moon month. May 2 was the Full Flower Moon and the Full Blue Moon is May 31. The cycle of the month with two full moons, the year with 13 moons, is 2.72 years, making it a special, if not totally unusual or unexpected occasion. The last blue moon month was July 2004, and the next in the cycle will occur in December 2009.
The average interval between full moons is about 29.5 days, while the length of an average month is roughly 30.5 days. This makes it very unlikely that any given month will contain two full moons, though it does sometimes happen. On average, there will be 41 months that have two full moons in every century, so you could say that once in a blue moon actually means "once every two-and-nearly-three-quarters years."
Since calendar months of 30 and 31 days are longer than the actual period between one full moon and the next, which is 29.53 days, the surplus hours and days of each month, each year, accumulate until eventually there is an "extra" full moon in one month. Rather like a leap moon, a blue moon is a great big bouncing blue bonus.
Which is not to say that it looks blue. That sort of blue moon is altogether another phenomenon, wherein the light of the moon appears to be tinted blue. This is actually atmospheric pollution created by particles — usually smoke, sand or volcanic dust — from a terrestrial disturbance, which creates a color filter effect. The latest blue-looking moons were created by forest fires in the west and oil field fires in Iraq.
Although blue moons do not cast an actual blue shadow, their very existence is a celestial reminder, a message out of the blue, as it were. A radio signal from the Great Goddess of Outer Space to us, Her very naughtiest and sometimes least sentient children. If, on the night of a cerulean moon, we close our eyes and sit very still; take in great drafts of air; sigh deeply and open our hearts, we will be able to hear Lady Luna sing the blues. Brokenhearted, She watches down on our out-of-whack world, and She weeps.
And Her pain is our pain. In losing our connection to the moon and Her cycles, we have lost track of our own. We have forgotten how to live in conscientious sync with the workings of the world. We no longer see ourselves as active and response-able participants in the universal plan, but rather, the boss of it. Ironically, this leaves us feeling disturbed, disempowered, disconnected, disconcerted, dismayed and disheartened. Stripped spiritually naked and scared to death. This is not only sad, it is clearly dangerous.
In all my years of cross-cultural research, I have never come across any mention of traditional rituals with which to mark a blue moon. But I sense that a contemporary one is in order. I say, let us seize this once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity to transform our sadness into strength. We can start by stopping. Taking the time, noting the process, tuning in, staying with the program, listening with open hearts to Mother Moon's melancholy lament.
Picture a lunar rite of passage into the power of positive change: A True Blue Ceremony in the Spirit of Universal Beneficence.
It seems suitable to me to strike a blue mood. The lights are shaded blue, of course. Blue pine incense is lit. We are bathed in an airy wash of cool blue. Dressed in our best blues, we sip some sort of blueberry infusion. Drink in its navy depths. We put bluebells in our hair. We have become like the Tuaregs, the "blue people" of the Moroccan Sahara whose skin becomes imbued with the indigo dyes of their robes. A becalmed blue aura surrounds us. We are emerged in an ocean of blue: the blue of the sea, the blue of the sky, a morning glorious blue.
Just being in blue, you know, effectively lowers your blood pressure. It is known to affect the pituitary gland and contributes to the reduction of swelling and pain. Restful and calming, blue helps to balance mental confusion and ease anxiety. Hallways, lounges and wards of mental institutions are frequently painted a pale, cool-out blue.
We symbolically clean and bless the streams, the rivers, the ponds and lakes, the big blue sky, the very air we breathe — the entire biosphere. We use bluing as our purifying agent. It's what our mothers and grandmothers bought in bottles or little wrapped cubes, to add to their wash. The same as those little blue flecks in modern powdered laundry detergents.
We dip the blue balls into water and paint emblems on each other's foreheads with the cobalt paste. We anoint each other with blue blessings. We pledge our affinity as co-creators of the working blueprint plan for a new paradigm. We pray for possibility, for a new perspective. We light bright blue candles for illumination.
We chant for peace. We chant. We dance. We spin for peace. We slow to a stop. Stilled. Sated. Steady. Strong. The blue air is charged. We are changed, united in azure energy.
��� — —
Donna Henes is an urban shaman in exotic Brooklyn, contemporary ceremonialist, award-winning author and popular speaker. Visit her website at www.donnahenes.net. Email her at cityshaman@aol.com. © copyright 2007 by Donna Henes.
http://www.religionandspirituality.com/goddess_nature/view.php?StoryID=20070528-102133-2385r
The average interval between full moons is about 29.5 days, while the length of an average month is roughly 30.5 days. This makes it very unlikely that any given month will contain two full moons, though it does sometimes happen. On average, there will be 41 months that have two full moons in every century, so you could say that once in a blue moon actually means "once every two-and-nearly-three-quarters years."
Since calendar months of 30 and 31 days are longer than the actual period between one full moon and the next, which is 29.53 days, the surplus hours and days of each month, each year, accumulate until eventually there is an "extra" full moon in one month. Rather like a leap moon, a blue moon is a great big bouncing blue bonus.
Which is not to say that it looks blue. That sort of blue moon is altogether another phenomenon, wherein the light of the moon appears to be tinted blue. This is actually atmospheric pollution created by particles — usually smoke, sand or volcanic dust — from a terrestrial disturbance, which creates a color filter effect. The latest blue-looking moons were created by forest fires in the west and oil field fires in Iraq.
Although blue moons do not cast an actual blue shadow, their very existence is a celestial reminder, a message out of the blue, as it were. A radio signal from the Great Goddess of Outer Space to us, Her very naughtiest and sometimes least sentient children. If, on the night of a cerulean moon, we close our eyes and sit very still; take in great drafts of air; sigh deeply and open our hearts, we will be able to hear Lady Luna sing the blues. Brokenhearted, She watches down on our out-of-whack world, and She weeps.
And Her pain is our pain. In losing our connection to the moon and Her cycles, we have lost track of our own. We have forgotten how to live in conscientious sync with the workings of the world. We no longer see ourselves as active and response-able participants in the universal plan, but rather, the boss of it. Ironically, this leaves us feeling disturbed, disempowered, disconnected, disconcerted, dismayed and disheartened. Stripped spiritually naked and scared to death. This is not only sad, it is clearly dangerous.
In all my years of cross-cultural research, I have never come across any mention of traditional rituals with which to mark a blue moon. But I sense that a contemporary one is in order. I say, let us seize this once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity to transform our sadness into strength. We can start by stopping. Taking the time, noting the process, tuning in, staying with the program, listening with open hearts to Mother Moon's melancholy lament.
Picture a lunar rite of passage into the power of positive change: A True Blue Ceremony in the Spirit of Universal Beneficence.
It seems suitable to me to strike a blue mood. The lights are shaded blue, of course. Blue pine incense is lit. We are bathed in an airy wash of cool blue. Dressed in our best blues, we sip some sort of blueberry infusion. Drink in its navy depths. We put bluebells in our hair. We have become like the Tuaregs, the "blue people" of the Moroccan Sahara whose skin becomes imbued with the indigo dyes of their robes. A becalmed blue aura surrounds us. We are emerged in an ocean of blue: the blue of the sea, the blue of the sky, a morning glorious blue.
Just being in blue, you know, effectively lowers your blood pressure. It is known to affect the pituitary gland and contributes to the reduction of swelling and pain. Restful and calming, blue helps to balance mental confusion and ease anxiety. Hallways, lounges and wards of mental institutions are frequently painted a pale, cool-out blue.
We symbolically clean and bless the streams, the rivers, the ponds and lakes, the big blue sky, the very air we breathe — the entire biosphere. We use bluing as our purifying agent. It's what our mothers and grandmothers bought in bottles or little wrapped cubes, to add to their wash. The same as those little blue flecks in modern powdered laundry detergents.
We dip the blue balls into water and paint emblems on each other's foreheads with the cobalt paste. We anoint each other with blue blessings. We pledge our affinity as co-creators of the working blueprint plan for a new paradigm. We pray for possibility, for a new perspective. We light bright blue candles for illumination.
We chant for peace. We chant. We dance. We spin for peace. We slow to a stop. Stilled. Sated. Steady. Strong. The blue air is charged. We are changed, united in azure energy.
��� — —
Donna Henes is an urban shaman in exotic Brooklyn, contemporary ceremonialist, award-winning author and popular speaker. Visit her website at www.donnahenes.net. Email her at cityshaman@aol.com. © copyright 2007 by Donna Henes.
http://www.religionandspirituality.com/goddess_nature/view.php?StoryID=20070528-102133-2385r






The seasonal markers, such as the solstices and equinoxes, are among the very few things that haven't lost their meaning for me in the current crisis of faith.