There is no Moon in the sky. Not tonight.
Tonight is the night of the Dark Moon.
What does it mean to be a Witch on such a night? We only get 13 of them a year. If you live to be 80, you will only have just over 1,000 of them and you’ll spend quite a few while you’re too young to know what to do with them, or sick, or working, or too old to care.
What are they for, these Dark Moon Nights?
We live, most of us, in a world of “light pollution.” Even late at night, even on a Dark Moon night, we can’t see the Milky Way. We can go years and years without ever experiencing true dark. And, our world is focused on “moving towards the light,” towards “enlightenment,” on ignoring and rubbing out anything “dark.”
But, to be a Witch is to face, honor, and work with all that is. To be a Witch is to dance with “the Dark” every bit as much as with “the Light.” To be a Witch is to face our fears and to refuse to be afraid of the “the Dark.”
Tonight, I will sit in my darkened ritual room, a room without Moonlight. I will invoke my own shadows, talk to them, serve them dark red wine, and face what they will surrender to me. Tonight, I will be a Witch, on a Dark Moon Night, in a dark room, surrounded by the shadows of ancient trees and grounded on land made red as its clay by the blood of those who were forced to surrender it to those who took it. Tonight, I will run my own roots down into the deep, dark places where huge roots of old oaks are linked by mycellium to the newer roots of temple pines.
I seldom dress in Gothic corsets, run in armour down the stairs of ancient ruins, or stare soulfully into dark pools in fantastic landscapes. But I do show up every day at my law firm full of what I’ve learned from the Dark. I bring my own shadow work into my work as a mother, a nonna, a friend, a member of a family and a community. I show up on the Dark Moons and do Dark Moon work and I bring that to bear upon how I handle my work in the Light.