Time has a way of moving quietly until suddenly we look around and wonder where the days, months, and years went.
One moment we’re wishing for tomorrow, and the next we’re longing for yesterday.
I found this to be true lately, because I turned around and wondered where the Summer has went. I see evidence to it’s end in my garden, and I can feel it in the air. The breeze against my face is different. There are days in these late Summer days, where I feel I’m running to catch something, and I can’t. You can’t catch time, or can you?
Maybe the lesson is to stop trying to catch it, and stay with it.
To notice the morning light.
Savor the conversation.
Laugh a little longer.
Hold the people we love a little closer.
Because time doesn’t slow down for us, but will indeed stay with us.
Stay with time, so we keep it close. ✨🌿
“There is a time in the last few days of summer when the ripeness of autumn fills the air,and time is quiet and mellow.” — Rudolfo Anaya
The Sturgeon Moon, the full Moon of August, rises on Friday, August 28, 2026, reaching its peak at 12:18 a.m. EDT. (Time and Date)
Named for the great lake sturgeon traditionally found in abundance in the Great Lakes during late summer, this Moon carries an ancient connection to water, survival, nourishment, and the rhythms of nature.
Our Sturgeon Moon invites us to pause and ask ourselves: What have I survived, and what am I ready to release?
Late summer is a threshold. The garden is overflowing, the days are beginning to shorten, and nature quietly reminds us that every season has its purpose. The Sturgeon Moon arrives with that same wisdom.
Growth does not mean holding onto everything we have gathered.
Sometimes growth means knowing what to let go of.
This particular Sturgeon Moon is especially powerful because it coincides with a deep partial lunar eclipse, with the greatest eclipse occurring at approximately 12:12 a.m. EDT, just minutes before the Moon reaches full illumination. (Farmers’ Almanac)
An eclipse can be viewed as a moment when the familiar light is temporarily altered and an invitation to look inward and notice what has been hidden in the shadows.
✨ The Sturgeon Moon whispers:
You have survived the waters that once frightened you. You have grown through seasons you thought would break you. You do not have to carry everything into the next chapter. Release what has completed its purpose. Make room for what is waiting to grow.
This is a beautiful Moon for cleansing, protection, emotional release, gratitude, and setting intentions for the season ahead.
On the night of August 27, step outside if the sky is clear. Let the Moonlight find you. Take a few quiet breaths. Think about everything this year has taught you and then imagine placing the weight you no longer need into the Moon’s light.
You don’t have to know exactly what comes next.
Sometimes the most powerful magic is simply trusting that the next season will meet you when you are ready for it. 🌙
Several years ago, I discovered that I was born under a Waning Cresent Moon on April 4, 1967. There is something profoundly beautiful about being born beneath this moon. Over time it has helped me work to understand who I am, the whys as to how I move through this life, and this knowledge has insisted that I continue to discover and learn about myself.
While most people are drawn to the brilliance of the Full Moon, there is a different kind of magic in the final sliver of light. In the quiet Moon that appears just before dawn, carrying the wisdom of an entire lunar cycle within her.
The Waning Crescent, sometimes called the Balsamic Moon, is the final phase before darkness gives way to the New Moon. It is a time of surrender, reflection, release, healing, and preparation for what has yet to be born.
And perhaps those born beneath her carry some of that same energy.
🌘 The energy of the old soul
Those born under a Waning Crescent Moon are often associated with deep intuition, introspection, spiritual awareness, and an unusual understanding of endings and beginnings.
There can be a feeling of knowing things without always knowing how you know them.
You may sense when something has run its course before anyone else recognizes it. You may find yourself drawn toward solitude, not because you don’t love people, but because you need quiet to hear your own inner voice.
The Waning Crescent teaches that wisdom doesn’t always come from doing more.
Sometimes it comes from observing. From listening. From allowing life to reveal what it has been trying to teach you all along.
🌿 You may be a keeper of endings
The Waning Crescent isn’t afraid of endings. I can say for me personally, I don’t even like the ending of a TV or Netflix series, let alone the ending of anything else. I do however understand this. I look out and see periods of profound transformation throughout life. Friendships change. Old identities fall away. Beliefs that once felt certain no longer fit.
There is an understanding that everything moves in cycles: beginnings, growth, fullness, decline, death, rest, and eventually rebirth. It does not make anything ending easy, but it gives balance.
And although those endings can hurt, there can also be an almost instinctive understanding that something must sometimes be released so something more authentic can emerge.
The lesson isn’t to cling to what is disappearing. It is to trust the space it leaves behind.
🔮 Your magic may live in the unseen
The Waning Crescent is a quiet Moon. It doesn’t demand attention.
It doesn’t need to be the brightest thing in the sky. And perhaps that is part of its lesson for us
Not all power is loud.
Some power looks like intuition.
Some looks like resilience.
Some looks like walking away.
Some looks like forgiveness.
Some looks like beginning again when nobody else understands why.
This Moon reminds us that darkness is not the absence of light. Sometimes darkness is where the next version of ourselves is forming.
✨ The gift of being born under the Waning Crescent
I was always drawn to this moon. My jewelry reflects this, even before I knew this about myself. Every time I saw any type of depiction of this moon, I would see it. I especially saw it as she lit the sky.
If you were born beneath this Moon, perhaps your greatest gift is your ability to understand the beauty of transformation. You know, somewhere deep within you, that life is not meant to remain the same. You are allowed to outgrow people. You are allowed to change your mind. You are allowed to shed identities that no longer fit. You are allowed to walk into the unknown. And you are allowed to become softer, wiser, quieter, and more deeply yourself.
Because the Waning Crescent carries one of the oldest messages of the Moon:
Nothing truly ends. It changes form. The light disappears, but it does not die. It simply prepares to return. And perhaps that is the magic you were born carrying.
The knowing that even in the darkest moments, another beginning is already gathering beneath the surface. 🌘🌿✨
There is a kind of loneliness that has nothing to do with being alone.
It is the feeling of standing in a crowded room and still longing for a soul who truly sees you. The feeling of outgrowing places, relationships, and versions of yourself that once felt like home.
But perhaps loneliness is not always an empty space. Perhaps sometimes it is sacred space.
A quiet season where Spirit whispers, “Come back to yourself.” 🌙
When the noise fades and the people who once surrounded you are no longer walking beside you, it can feel like abandonment. But sometimes what feels like being left behind is actually being gently redirected.
You are not forgotten. You are not too much. You are not unlovable.
You are simply learning that not every soul is meant to stay for every chapter.
So if you are lonely right now, sit with it gently. Light a candle. Step outside. Put your bare feet on the earth. Listen to the wind. Let the moon remind you that even in darkness, you are still becoming.
Some seasons are meant to be walked quietly.
And sometimes, the most important person you are being reunited with…
We are often taught to think of home as somewhere we can point to on a map—a house, an address, four walls filled with familiar things.
But sometimes, home is not a place at all.
Sometimes, home is a feeling.
It is the exhale that comes when you finally feel safe enough to be fully yourself. It is the warmth that settles into your spirit when you are surrounded by people who see you, hear you, and love you without asking you to become someone else.
Home can be found in a person’s embrace, in the sound of someone laughing in the next room, or in the quiet companionship of a soul who understands you without needing an explanation.
And sometimes, home is found within ourselves.
There are seasons in life when the places we once called home no longer feel like they belong to us. People change. Relationships shift. Children grow. Houses are sold. Friendships end. Paths that once felt certain suddenly lead somewhere else.
It can be painful to realize that what once felt like home no longer does.
But perhaps there is something sacred in that realization.
Spiritually, we are always becoming. We are shedding old versions of ourselves, releasing what no longer aligns with our souls, and learning to trust the path unfolding beneath our feet. Sometimes the feeling of being “homeless” in our own lives is actually an invitation to come home to ourselves.
To listen inward.
To remember who we were before the world told us who we should be.
To create a home within our own hearts that cannot be taken away by another person’s absence.
Home might be the garden where your hands touch the earth and your spirit becomes quiet. It might be sitting beneath the moon, listening to the night, and feeling connected to something much larger than yourself. It might be music that reaches a place inside you that words cannot.
Home is where your spirit can breathe.
Home might be a familiar scent, an old song, a cup of tea held between your hands, or the peaceful feeling that comes when you finally stop running from yourself.
Not because they complete you, but because their presence reminds you that you were never incomplete.
The deepest kind of home does not demand that you shrink, perform, or pretend. It gives you room to grow. It allows you to change without making you feel guilty for becoming someone new.
Maybe that is why some places feel like home the moment we arrive, while others never do—even after years of being there.
Because the soul recognizes what the mind cannot always explain.
Home is where your spirit can breathe.
Where your heart can soften.
Where your truth does not have to whisper.
Where you can take off the masks you learned to wear and simply exist.
And perhaps the greatest spiritual lesson is this:
You are allowed to create home wherever your soul feels at peace.
You do not have to stay somewhere simply because it is familiar. You do not have to hold onto people simply because they once felt like home. And you do not have to fear beginning again when your spirit is calling you somewhere new.
Sometimes leaving is how we find ourselves.
Sometimes losing a home is how we discover that we were carrying one inside us all along.
So wherever life finds you—among familiar walls or somewhere completely unknown—listen closely to what your spirit is telling you.
Notice where you feel lighter.
Notice where you feel safe.
Notice where you can laugh freely, love deeply, and be unapologetically yourself.
Those places are sacred.
Those people are sacred.
And that feeling?
That is home.
Perhaps home was never meant to be a destination.
Perhaps home was always the moment when your soul whispered:
The Full Moon of July 2026 comes to us as a luminous reminder that growth is rarely a straight path. Like the moon itself, we move through cycles of expansion, rest, challenge, and renewal. The full moon marks the peak of this cycle—a moment when hidden truths rise to the surface and the light reveals what has been waiting to be seen.
Traditionally known as the Buck Moon, she will reach peak in illumination on Wednesday, July 29, 2026, at 7:36 PM PDT (10:36 PM EDT).
July’s full moon was named by Indigenous peoples because this is the time of year when young deer begin growing new antlers. These antlers are covered in soft velvet and represent growth, strength, and the promise of what is still developing. It is a powerful symbol that not all growth is immediately visible; sometimes our most important transformations are happening beneath the surface.
Under this moon, ask yourself:
✨ What part of me is ready to emerge?
✨ What gifts have I been hiding from the world?
✨ What fears or limiting beliefs am I prepared to release?
✨ Where is my spirit calling me to grow stronger?
This moon carries the energy of abundance and maturation. The seeds planted in spring are beginning to show results, whether in our relationships, careers, spiritual practices, or personal healing journeys. It is an opportunity to celebrate progress while recognizing there is still room to evolve.
The Buck Moon also encourages us to trust the timing of the universe. Just as antlers do not appear overnight, our dreams and intentions unfold according to natural rhythms. If you’ve been feeling impatient or uncertain, this moon reminds you that growth is occurring even when you cannot yet see the final outcome.
A simple full moon ritual is to spend a few moments outdoors under the moonlight. Reflect on what has blossomed in your life since the beginning of the year. Write down anything you are ready to release—fears, doubts, limiting beliefs, or old wounds—and safely burn or tear the paper as a symbolic act of letting go.
As the July Full Moon shines overhead, may it light your path, strengthen your spirit, and remind you that you are continually becoming who you were meant to be. Trust the process. Honor your growth. And allow.
Your Path Was Never Meant to Look Like Anyone Else’s.
One of the greatest distractions on our journey is the temptation to compare our lives, gifts, and experiences to those of others. We see someone who seems more successful, more awakened, more talented, or further along their path, and we begin to question our own.
With the wrong set of eyes, there will always be someone out there doing exactly what you do – only better. We have to work on adjusting that vision.
The Earth tells us a different story.
No two trees grow in exactly the same way. No two flowers bloom on the same day. The moon itself moves through phases, never rushing from darkness to fullness. Nature understands what we often forget: everything unfolds in its own sacred timing.
When we compare ourselves to others, we disconnect from our own magic. We become so focused on another person’s path that we stop noticing the signs, synchronicities, and blessings appearing along our own. We forget that our soul came here to experience a unique journey, not a copy of someone else’s.
Someone once told be that if you envy or want what another has, you cant pick and chose. You have to take everything about their life. That everything may not be the thing you would wish for yourself.
The spiritual path is not a competition.
There is no prize for reaching enlightenment first. There is no award for having the most crystals, knowing the most rituals, or appearing the most “awakened.” True wisdom comes from honoring where you are right now and trusting the lessons that are finding you in this season.
Sometimes the Universe asks us to grow slowly. Sometimes we are in a season of rest, healing, or transformation beneath the surface. Like seeds sleeping in the dark earth, much of our most important growth happens where no one else can see it.
The next time you find yourself measuring your life against another’s, pause and remember: your ancestors, guides, and the Divine are not comparing you to anyone. They are simply asking you to become more fully yourself.
The moon does not compare herself to the stars. The river does not compare itself to the sea. Each carries its own wisdom, purpose, and power.
So honor your pace. Trust your path. Celebrate your growth, even when it feels small. The life you are creating is unfolding according to a sacred rhythm that belongs to you alone.
January and a brand new calendar year offers us the Wolf Moon. The first of three supermoons in 2026, this moon occurs on January 3, peaking at 5:03 am (EST).
Native American traditions used the name as wolves were heard howling in January. These vocalizations were to maintain pack bonds, define territory, and coordinate hunts.
Different cultures used descriptive names for this moon based on winter conditions, such as:
Cold Moon or Frost Exploding Moon(Cree).
Center Moon (Assiniboine), marking the midpoint of winter.
Greetings Moon (Western Abenaki).
Spirit Moon (Ojibwe).
Bringing nature to ourselves, this gives us the opportunity for introspection, identifying community, and every wild instinct that we can find symbolized by the wolf. Yes, I did say that.
I did a quick Google search about characteristics found in wolves:
Social & Family-Oriented:Wolves live in family units called packs, typically led by a mated pair (often called alpha) and their offspring, working together to hunt and raise young.
Apex Predators:As top predators, they hunt large ungulates (hoofed animals like deer, elk, moose) and sometimes smaller prey, using teamwork, stealth, and endurance.
Masters of Communication:They use complex howls to communicate over long distances, mark territory, and rally the pack, alongside body language and scent.
Vast Territories:Packs require huge areas to find food, covering significant distances daily (up to 30 miles or more) and defending large home ranges.
Diverse Appearance:While known as “gray wolves,” they come in various colors, including black, white, brown, and reddish hues, adapting to different environments like tundras, forests, and mountains.
As we take time to watch and reflect on the gift of this beautiful full moon, it is important to know our pack. Commit to who we run this journey with and feel safe within that community. You have strength in your singularity, but power in the ones you chose.
You can stand in full strength of who you are, while behind you, all around you, and sometimes even running ahead of you is the power of your pack.
Like the wolf, chose this wisely. Knowing who you are, those that run with you know that too, and with authority, you are your own. Even from afar, you will hear them, they will hear you, and your voices together are infinitely – resoundingly – strong.
May peace, power, and community run with us all into this new year.
Our final Super Moon of 2025 will be 100% illuminated on December 4 at around 6-6:30pm (EST.) For the most dramatic view, watch just after moonrise, when the Moon appears larger near the horizon—a phenomenon called the “Moon illusion.”
The Old Farmer’s Almanac names for this moon come from centuries of Native American, colonial, and European traditions. December’s full Moon is most commonly called the Cold Moon (Mohawk), reflecting the frigid season. It is also known as the Long Night Moon (Mohican) because it rises during the longest nights of the year, near the winter solstice, and remains above the horizon for an extended period.
Other traditional names that highlight the cold and snow include:
Drift Clearing Moon (Cree)
Frost Exploding Trees Moon (Cree)
Moon of the Popping Trees (Oglala)
Hoar Frost Moon (Cree)
Snow Moon (Haida, Cherokee)
Winter Maker Moon (Western Abenaki)
Moon When the Deer Shed Their Antlers (Dakota)
Little Spirit Moon (Anishinaabe)
This moon invites stillness, reflection, and release. We are nearing the end of this calendar year, heading into the Winter season, the solstice is right around the corner as the return of the light, as longer days are now also upon us. It is powerful time.
It is sometimes impossible to shut off the noise in our lives and sit in stillness. I often think about fresh fallen snow, and how it acts as a buffer to sound. You can hear the quiet in those moments. This moon is here to remind us the importance of the stillness.
As we enter a busy time, perhaps a stressful time of the holidays, this moon comes to us for a moment of stillness. Reflecting on the past year, reaffirming and also releasing what is keeping the quiet from our minds. Just as the earth takes a break to prepare for spring, the Cold Moon signals the importance of rest and renewal. This is a time to recharge, nurture the spirit, and align with nature’s rhythm of quiet strength.
Let her be your reminder to move away from things that hold you back, take your joy, and keep things all around you loud. Stand in your own light and move closer into reflection in stillness. As we are near the solstice, let your light return with the sun.