The dark before dawn, February’s new worm moon.

By Elizabeth Reynolds McGuire

To be honest, I think that February is the toughest month of the year. I am certain that it has to do with the fact that it is a deeply transitional month, a portal you might say, from winter to spring. And while many people find much joy and hope and excitement in the coming spring energy, I find it hard to say goodbye to the dreamy, mystical energy of winter. I am a contemplative old soul, more suited to the dark, earthy energy of autumn and winter. I love the process of slowing down, turning inward, and coming home. And, to me, February signals the end of this inner, mystical time of the year. Instead, it invites and calls me to begin to leave winter behind and to release all of that deep, inward, resting energy. Now, it is time to open my eyes, to begin to move my stiff bones, to open my windows, to set my bare feet on the ground, to emerge from my cocoon, and to slowly rise to life again. But, I’m not ready to. 

Let me be clear, though. I do actually love the light and the beauty of spring and summer. The carefree, hopeful energy inspires me. However, my soul truly thrives in the quiet, reflective, deep wisdom of the darker seasons. So, year after year, I find it hard to leave it behind. 

However, years ago, I began to truly live in rhythm with nature, aligning my everyday life with the energy of the seasons and following the phases of the moon; and that means that, like it or not, the seasons change, and so must I. Now, February’s new moon is here once again, welcoming me to flow with the transitional, quickening energy that is swirling all around. And, while I accept and love the changing of the seasons, it doesn’t mean that I find it easy. 

The medicine of the earth.

February’s new moon is also known as the worm moon because of the waking, transitioning energy in the air. Slow, quietly, silently nature is stirring. The earth is thawing, buzzing, stretching. Roots send new energy upward to plants, sap begins rising and slowly flowing, snowdrops peek out from the hard, cold ground, light returns as the days grow noticeably longer, birds begin to share their morning songs, and the worms and bugs silently wiggle and wake in the soil. The first signs of the coming spring are emerging.

The new moon of February is the third and last new moon of winter. Spring is well on its way now. This is the time of the quiet dark before dawn. It’s unmistakeable how magical and breathtaking it is. However, this new moon is also a clear end to the winter season. It is time for me to find closure, to release the seasons that I love the most, and to welcome in a new beginning. It is the perfect month for me to prepare for March’s new moon, which ushers in the spring equinox and marks the first day of the light half of the year. 

The medicine of the new moon.

Of course, all new moons are new beginnings. For me, each new moon is a time to mark the passage of time and the turning of the seasons. New moons occur once a month and mark the phases that the moon goes through as she orbits earth. During the new moon phase all is dark. The night sky may be full of stars, but no moon is visible. It is often seen as a magical, cosmic time representing new beginnings. A clean slate. A time to set intentions and, if you wish, to engage in some rituals.

As I follow the rhythms of nature, I take each new moon as it comes. I choose how I want to celebrate (or not) each new moon. Sometimes I meditate, sometimes simply walk or stand under the night sky, sometimes I do nothing at all, sometimes I journal, sometimes I light candles + pull cards. On a rare occasion I take a ritual shower, focusing on the cleansing and washing away of the old to welcome in the new. But, no matter how I choose to celebrate and tap into the energy of the new moon, I always take a moment to simply recognize the shifting of the phases, the turning of the earth, the orbit of the moon, and the ever-changing and evolving of the seasons.

And this February new moon invites me to recognize the uncomfortableness I feel with the changing of the seasons during this time of the year. She is a clear sign that it is time to drop into the ever-flowing energy of the seasons, to move on, to begin to wake, and to prepare for something new. 

So, I do my best to settle into the flow of February’s new moon cycle. It is a messy cycle, moving back and forth between unsettling energy and invigorating energy. Shifting between cold, windy, dreary late winter days to bright, sunny, warm early spring days. The transition is tough. It is slow, random, irritating, and all over the place. But it is also a slow, organic, perfectly imperfect unfolding. The question is, am I able to really drop into the flow or will I fight it? Can I accept the messiness, stay present in the energy of each moment as it passes, and move forward?

I think that somehow the waking, rising energetic transition of February tricks me into thinking that things have to speed up and become hyper-active with the arrival of spring in March. And my quiet, contemplative soul wants to keep things slow and intentional. I want to stay grounded, rhythmic, present. But, even as I write this, I feel February’s new moon whispering to me that waking and rising does not meant that I have to throw off the warm bed covers, shock my system into wide-eyed alertness, and then burst out into the new spring and summer days, rushing from one thing to the next. I am not intended to lose my grounding or presence. Nature never hurries. Nor do I ever need to. 

Wisdom, mindfulness, and slow living.

This new moon cycle is my opportunity to learn to keep it slow - even as the energy builds. And that is where the magic is. That is what magic is. The magic of the moon cycles is the fact that life is ever changing, evolving, and transforming. The seasons continue their cycles and rhythms. And right in the middle of it all are the moments that touch my heart and inspire my soul. The moon cycles are simply there to help me slow down, gain perspective, and remember that all of life – every single little stardust in you and in me and in everyone – is part of this divine, sacred cycle of life. Just as the moon cycles faithfully continue, so do we also cycle through life. We learn, grow, make mistakes, learn some more, surrender, die, find wisdom in the dark – and then start the process all over again.

It’s how we learn. How we evolve. How we mature and transform and change and become more and more our true selves. Align. Fall out of alignment. Rebalance and realign. And do it all over again. Reaching higher and higher, and deeper and deeper with every learning cycle we experience.

This is the flow of the moon cycles. This is the flow of the seasons. This is the flow of the universe. And this is the flow of our lives.

So, as we mark February’s worm moon and the shifting of the seasons, find some time, if you want, to pause. Look up. Breathe deep. Feel the energy rising. And then allow yourself to very slowly begin to wake and wiggle, like those little earthworms that begin to emerge as a signal that life cycles on. 

Let it be our deepest intention under this new moon to embrace the dark before dawn. To fall into rhythm with the moon, the sun, the earth, the plants, and the animals as we welcome the new day that is slowly, quietly dawning. 

xoxo. liz. 

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