Monday, January 31st
Full Moon in Aquarius at 9:47 pm PST
January New Moon: A Black Moon Dream Time
by Blanca S. Villalobos
This time of year can bring up a lot. It is a time of year when personal and intergenerational wounds resurface through somatic memory and waking life occurrences. Yet, deep down I know these memories come up for breath so that they may be tended to. While it slumbers, the earth is still alive. The heart of winter invites us to slow down and witness our own processes in quieter, more interior ways.
We are cyclical beings. Cycles can be observed in nature when we consider the seasons, the transition from day to night, and perhaps the most obvious, the Moon. In Aztec cosmology, there are multiple energies or deities associated with an element or being. The energy I most consider when thinking about the Moon is Coyolxauhqui, whose Nahuatl name roughly translates to “bells-her-cheeks.” Coyolxauhqui is often depicted as a dismembered femme on a circular stone. In various texts, Coyolxauhqui was dismembered by their brother after a confrontation and was then tossed towards the heavens, solidifying their presence in the sky as the Moon. When I look at the night sky over a period of time I can see Coyolxauhqui become whole again, recovering and possibly retrieving different parts of themself.
If you have experienced trauma, or are someone who works with survivors of trauma, you may have noticed that the memories associated with a particular incident are often fragmented and hard to recall in a linear fashion. Whenever I hear my parents tell stories of their lives in México, the details of these memories shift over time, especially when they are recounting lived experiences of violence. In my own work with therapy and EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing), my therapist has me focus on a particular memory associated with trauma while I follow their finger back and forth at a constant rhythm. The intention behind this therapy is to reduce the intensity of the trauma and support overall healing by processing memories associated with a traumatic incident. Dreaming does something similar, in that once we are in the stage of our sleep cycle called REM (rapid eye movement), our eyes begin to move back and forth at an incredible speed and our dream world begins to unravel.
It is my belief that dreams can help folks process memories associated with wounds, even those from previous generations in our lineage or communities. Much like Coyolxauhqui’s cosmic cuts, our dreams often present us with fragmented pieces of information, leaving us with the responsibility of tuning in and creating space to invest in their meaning. Dreams do not adhere to linear time, they are cyclical and also thrive in darkness, in liminal spaces. If we can carve out time and space towards a dream practice, we can begin weaving together certain aspects of ourselves or our lineage that were perhaps lost, taken, or given away.
How do we know what has been lost, taken, or given away?
—Excerpt from the 2022 Many Moons Lunar Planner. To read Blanca S. Villalobos's exclusive dream ritual to honor this lunation, grab your copy of the Planner by clicking here or download the January Guide by clicking here.
Blanca S. Villalobos (they/she) is a cultural worker from the San Gorgonio Pass of Southern California with ancestral roots in Jalisco, México. They are a proud, queer daughter of immigrants and comes from a lineage of artists, educators & dream practitioners. They are currently developing their practice on the ancestral lands of the Cahuilla & Yuhaviatam/Marrenga’yam people and holds space for community well-being through their online offerings. Learn more about Blanca’s work by visiting www.blancasvillalobos.com and check out their Patreon at www.patreon.com/bsvillalobos. You can also follow them on Instagram: @blanca.s.villalobos.