Dear Moon wRiters

Some people don’t really bother much with remembering; it seems such a useless activity. But most writers are addicted to it.- Alice Munro

The seventh Moon considered the most important of all the Moons is the Oak Moon, Moon of Strength and security. This is the sign of greatest lunar influence. For this is the home of the Moon, the sign of Cancer. This is the moment of the year when the Sun has reached it’s zenith and we are entering the domain of the longest day.

Time to work on financial security and personal strength.This period signifies a time of the earth’s pregnancy, a time when the earth came to crop under the watchful gaze of the Oak Moon. But the safe delivery of a healthy harvest has to be worked for. It is much the same with our writing. We cannot rest on our laurels, neglecting to put in the practice.

The oak seed planted early bears fruit in organic time, like our writing when tended to, gives birth over time to an Oak Tree. Seventh Lunation Oak Moon, Moon Of Strength and Security also known as The Blessing Moon Colours Brick, Earth and WhiteScents Geranium, Frankincense and SandalwoodLunar Herb – Rose HipsLunar Animal - HareNumber 7Seasonal

Celebration Summer Solstice falls on June 21st 2006, the longest day of the year when the Sun is at it’s most Northern point and Lithia, the Sun’s energy is at it’s peak. Summer Solstice is a time to gather with family and friends. In the past this was a time of vigilance of prayer that the earth, now pregnant carries full term and bears a fruitful crop.The Oak is tried and tested. Its wood is dense and close grown. And it endures for several hundred years growing in the forest. It’s wood is the strongest and most endurable for building. The tree is a symbol of strength, endurance and security.

Strength Stories Standing at the highest point in Brockwell Park is a huge Evergreen Oak. It’s sprawling branches of emerald green leaves are present and in abundance almost all year round. It’s branches stretch through the surrounding air and tilt, hanging much like the serpent’s tails from Medusa’s hair down to the ground. A hundred people could fit under her shade and not be touched by a drop of rain.For two years this Tree was my spiritual home. I would go jogging in the park at ridiculously early hours of the morning and when finished seek refuge under her green wings.

Under her peaceful gaze I cried tears during a period in my life where I was ‘Broken Open’. I meditated and wrote in my journal sitting at her feet. For two years this Tree was where I found my ‘Shelter’.The human soul hungers after Strength Stories. Stories that speak to the journey of overcoming against the odds and stories of triumph over adversity.

Our Oak stories are testimonies to the human spirit. These are our Medicine stories. On Friday I played hostess to Empowerment and Motivational Speaker Iyanla Vanzant at the Hackney Empire. Iyanla as expected was in fine form with her message of Mothering, Men and Money. Iyanla’s reminds us that, ‘telling your story is a way of healing’.With the guidance of this Month’s Moon we will gather together and tell our stories both on and off the page.

We will take time in class to record our strength stories, we will work on recording those moments in our lives when we have overcome.I will be introducing tips from the brilliant book by Sheila Bender, ‘Writing Personal Essays – How to shape your life experiences for the page’ and we will be using this to guide ourselves on the page.

Dad’s Memory Book Moved by the events of my father’s death on Sunday May 7th 2006 I purchase a large silver glazed book from Paper Chase and dedicated this as a Memory book to Dad.My intention was to take the Memory Book to Barbados and on the days leading up to the funeral and on the day of the funeral itself to collect as many verbal and written memories of Dad from family and friends in one of the rare opportunities when the majority of our family would be in the same place at the same time.

However family dynamics, the arrangements for the funeral and the funeral itself left me too exhausted to formally gather the memories from everyone. So instead I made mental notes and jotted down short lists of the things people said to me about my Dad and snippets from overheard conversations. At a later date I will sit down and enter these into Dad’s Memory book.Back in Barbados I slept in the room my Dad spent his last days in before he was admitted to hospital.

The second morning after arriving I began sorting out several items that belonged to my Dad on the dresser. It was early in the morning and It was comforting to touch items that I knew my Dad would have touched in the last year. Soon I found myself re-arranging them all on one shelf and soon I had created an Altar of Dad’s things.In amongst the collection was a set of keys, reminding me of Dad’s habit of collecting bunches of keys and having them scattered in drawers everywhere.

If you broke a lock on something, there was always a chance that dad might have a key with which to open it. There was a pair of cuff links, three watches, a jar of Red and White Brylcream that for years Dad had used on his hair. Each item held a strand of a memory of Dad. During the day I informed some of my brothers and sisters of what I had done and each took their moment to come and be with some of Dad’s things.

This is a memory I will record in my Dad’s Memory Book. These moment’s small as they may be, are exquisite moments for the writer to capture on the page. We do not need to concern ourselves with the epic adventure or story that amounts to something big like the Titanic or the Poseidon Adventure, no let’s leave those to the big screen. The writer can captivate the audience as much in the intricate details of small things as one writer whose name escapes me, famously said, ‘God is in the small things’.

With our packed and busy lives it is so easy to overlook the simple moments which when looked back on from the future hold meaning and value.Writers are historians of our world, gatekeepers of our stories, griots and storytellers of truth. Don’t let your stories die. Don’t allow your thoughts and views rot and decay because of lack of exposure. Let the page be your vestibule, your crucible, your mission. Give your stories life.