Dark Moon Bear

The beginning of the Dark Moon is only a day away. The phase of the Dark Moon is essentially the few days before the moon has waned itself empty and dark in the sky. Those from the earth religions see it as a time of deep power, a time of intuition, testing, and communion. For many women, this is a time when the womb also empties itself. A time of retreat and introspection.
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The week of the Dark Moon, I am again my bear self for a few days. In this shapeshifting experience I lose sense of my humanity, shred by shred. It is a strange, painful, and enlightening metamorphosis. Like a neophyte in the desert mountains of old Mexico, having taken my dose of peyote for the journey inward, I am filled with body-wretching sickness while another form of vision takes hold. It is psychotic, agressive, and raw, but also deeply knowing and wise. In old times, women stayed apart from regular community activities during the Dark Moon; their power was considered to be too overwhelming during this time. So they would congregate for a few days in the women's tents, and enjoy some contemplative rest and communion with their sisters.
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Despite my caution of segregation, I understand some of the benefits of allowing women to take time away from regular daily activity during these times. I personally think that I would be doing myself and those around me a great benefit to be gone during the Dark Moon. When the time approaches, and the metamorphosis takes place, I can no longer see as my normal self. Things become clouded and dreamlike. My nails elongate into thick, sharp claws. My senses and my instincts sharpen. My back hunches. I grow big and gruff. I let out long, deep growls with the exhalation of breath. My family run for cover as I slowly barrel around the house, carrying myself like the thousand pound creature I feel I have become.
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Tomorrow is the start of the Dark Moon. Today, I can feel her pulling me in. I had a nap this afternoon while the sun was still high and bright in the frozen world outside. My cats guarding me like sphinxes on either side of the covers, I effortlessly slipped into the world between waking and dreaming, becoming shrouded in strange visions. I drifted in and out of a deep, hormonally drugged sleep, weaving the last threads of a blanket that will begin unraveling tomorrow. I know that kind of sleep means it's almost time. I can feel the tingling in my finger tips where the claws will break through. When I awoke, still groggy, I scuffled over to the cupboards and polished off all the 'forbidden' things, namely the rest of the shortbread. Carbohydrate overload. I think I just felt a button on my shirt pop. But I don't care, because I can't say no to the bear. She's hungry, and there is no denying her.

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