The Blue, Full Moon in Libra (Round Two): That Time We Broke Up

Cinderella and the prince
lived, they say, happily ever after,
like two dolls in a museum case
never bothered by diapers or dust,
never arguing over the timing of an egg,
never telling the same story twice,
never getting a middle-aged spread,
their darling smiles pasted on for eternity.
Regular Bobbsey Twins.
That story.
~Anne Sexton

This Full Moon in Libra is at her peak April 19 at 5:12 am MST, illuminating the High Romance, encoded at a cellular level the moment we took our first breath.

With the Full Moon in Libra last month and the Blue One right now, you might’ve been revisiting some of the love stories you’ve lived in this lifetime–the ones you’re at peace with and the ones that still hurt, calling you to see where and with whom our true heart lies.

Mine rests in the kind hands of a man named Chris.

(If you’re eager to get to the Full Moon in Libra ceremony, please scroll down below where the suggestions in how you might prepare for such a ceremony have been lovingly laid out.)

MY LOVE STORY

I wrote a one-page vow in the summer of 2012 to spend 12 months dedicated to understanding my choices in love.

I was requesting authentic insights and personal truth about why someone (okay, me) with my Moon in lovestruck Pisces and five planets in lovesick Libra had been burning with a dream to fall in love with “The One.”

I also needed to know why someone like me (okay I’ll own it outright—me) continued to make choices that resulted in some painful chapters around love.

Knowing what I do about a person’s astrology chart, I’d clearly set up my astrological blueprint, my Sacred Life Plan, to understand the Libra intent to evolve through mastery in intimate relationships.

But I’d become exhausted in blaming the men I chose to help me on this “mastery” path, seeing how I was the common factor in all of these relationships.

Losing touch with who I was, I’d become caught up in massive swirling, sucking energies of the potential of whoever I fell in love with.

In 2012, I promised myself one year.

No dating, no searching, no longing for love–except for the love I felt for myself and for the Great Mystery all around me.

I figured that after one year of contemplation and building a practice of self-love, I’d be ready for my partner in the Divine Marriage I knew I’d come to experience.

I wished I’d been struck by a lightning bolt of self-adoration in that first week, but the blue skies were endlessly clear.

I soon realized a towering wall was secured around my heart, so words like “self-love” and “self-approval” could never breakthrough. I’d have to see what the wall was made of.

With no man to distract me, I devoted my energy to my inner life. I travelled on pilgrimage to Mexico and India, worked intensely with a spiritual teacher, attended many classes and retreats designed to support my intention to heal what needed to heal.

When I wasn’t working or travelling, I spent hours reading and immersing myself in spiritual practice that opened up within me a greater depth of clarity and a wider capacity to hear my own thoughts, my own voice, my beating heart.

Eventually, I learned to crave the silence of going within, grow wildly curious about my authentic desires and enjoy the peace that came from my own company.

I started to pay attention to the important messages my body was communicating about the undigested, unexamined emotions I’d repressed for years (maybe lifetimes). My body was begging for mercy and kindness, asking me to heal–and now I was listening.

A particularly poignant turning point arrived when an especially painful breakout of eczema erupted covering the entirety of my left hand. I remember looking down at the hot, oozing, blistered skin. I started weeping, planting dozens of butterfly kisses in-between cries of I’m sorry.

I was struck by the preciousness of what this hand—my hand—was trying to show me, the sweetness of this body—my body—that had endured so much and the gratitude I felt in having the presence of mind and the fullness of heart to gift myself this space to witness both the pain and the healing.

The love I felt for myself and for my life in that moment was profound: a new bar had been set—the knowing and feeling, the giving and receiving of kind love.

Moments like those became more frequent in the one year that became two. While I opened myself up to the possibility of a romance in that second year and had met and befriended a few good men, I hadn’t met anyone who I thought I might open my heart to.

That was until my phone went off in the summer of 2014, a text from a man asking to meet with me. He’d heard of the energy work I was doing and wanted to chat before he decided if and how we might work together.

When he strolled through my front door two days later, I wasn’t prepared for my bubble to burst with the thunderbolt of light that he brought in.

But once his eyes met mine, his smile illuminating his young face, the light around his entire body exploded. <i>Ka-boom</i>. I looked away the light was so blinding.

But not for long. I was enchanted by this delightful, intelligent, charismatic human being sitting on my couch ten feet away from me. He was just at the beginning of an inner journey that found him recently ending a relationship, moving cities, changing jobs and was now questioning what it was that he truly wanted in life.

We talked for hours that first night.

Three weeks later, we went on our first date, strolling through a heavily treed path alongside a swiftly moving river. Three hours later, he hugged me goodbye at my front door.

I was frantic as soon as his orange jeep disappeared around the street corner.

It had been two years. This was my first date. To feel this strongly for him so soon—this was wrong. Clearly this was self-sabotage and God was testing me.

At least, that’s what the scared part of me said.

But just as he had almost immediate clarity about loving me, I knew I loved him too.

I called Chris and told him what I’d been through in the last two years trying to find the balance and the still-point in the swirling energies of my own love.

I asked for six months—maybe then we could go on the second date. He laughed but understood, saying he’d wait as long as I needed.

I exhaled.

The timeline of six months was significantly shortened after five weeks of talking on the phone for hours each day. I was ready to take the leap and be that Fool for Love I’d been praying to God about for years—the Fool with the courage of an open heart, willing to go on the Adventure that True Love will bring.

I wish I could tell you Chris wrapped me up in his big, loving arms on that second date of ours and then sweetly kissed me after we pledged to live our happily ever after.

But it would turn out that after three months, our “happily ever after” had not yet been written.

You see we triggered each other’s biggest fears around unrequited love, freedom, independence, trust, commitment, forgiveness and acceptance.

Astrologically, we should have been a slam dunk, having some of the strongest cosmic connections two people can have in a relationship chart that pointed to us inevitably being together.

But at what cost and on what timeline?

We’d spend the next 10 months trying to figure that one out.

I remember being so upset with God at the time of our first breakup (there were three in total), demanding that all my romantic feelings for him be taken away.

I was so angry, feeling more the fool than the Divine one I thought I’d aligned my heart to.

When I realized that wasn’t going to happen, I begged for mercy, asking for the love I felt for him be turned into a more “neutral” unconditional love (what I really meant was take away the pain).

If I had a few thousand words to spare here, I’d paint you a vivid picture of the hell this process of healing actually was—I’ve learned not to cover up the pain with pretty-sounding Libra lies for the sake of making things looks good.

What did happen though was that the more anger and hurt I released the more I loved him for all the emotional dross he was bringing up to be transformed into this higher love.

Sometimes I would feel pure ecstasy running through me when I would think of him—my soul loving his soul and being so proud of all this healing I’d done—and hopefully he’d done too.

I didn’t know if we were ever going to be together again, but I was okay with that because I saw that as two souls, we would always love and be rooting for each other.

I could see us one day being the best of friends, caring for each other so deeply and making sure we were living our highest potential no matter where that took us and with whom we were doing that with.

I knew he felt the same way. Chris used to repeat this one sentence (like a mantra) during the times we were broken up but still talking: “I don’t know what it looks like, but I want you in my life the rest of my life.”

Me too.

After months of releasing and forgiving, of rewriting and rewiring a different story in love, Chris wrote me an email in late August 2015, saying how much joy it would be to talk. The anger, the hurt and the sadness over his physical absence in my life were gone, making room to go on an Adventure in Love with another Divine Fool for Love.

We’ve been together ever since.

I’ve written a small part of our love story because the search for the High Romance in which Libra offers us a teaching has been one of the most important stories I’ve lived to tell.

And I’ve dedicated my life to helping people understanding their own Love Stories, to heal the ones that hurt and to write the ones that heal.

And much of that healing has been done under the light and the dark of the Moon.