post full moon reflections

if you can't handle my depth, please step off my shores

I don’t know about you all, but the energy here has been a mixture of exhaustion and excitement. Just two days after the Pisces full moon eclipse on Tuesday evening, I’m still feeling the lingering illuminations of hope, trust, and the invitation to allow things to flow.

Full moons are a time to reflect, to really turn on the lights and check in with our wholeness and everything that’s alive within that space. This month’s full moon was in Pisces—fun fact: I am totally a Pisces, both rising and sun, with all my depth, dreams, feels, and flux. So, this full moon has really been (and still is) encouraging us to tune into our emotions, to take a deep sea dive into the feels. One reminder I hold close, as I intersect with so many in this world, is: if you can’t handle my depth, then please, get off my shores. I share that because we all have depth. When we tune into that depth, really listening beyond the surface and the noise, into the undertow of it all, there is great wisdom. There are insights and gifts there. There’s so much more to us than what we tend to bring out into the world, and sometimes we even forget. But here is the opportunity to remember…

A Pisces full moon paired with a lunar eclipse—change is in the air, my friends! This is a time to release the need to fight the currents and instead, lean back and let them move you to where you need to be. Let it bring you everything you need. Trust that the same forces moving us cosmically, consciously, and naturally are alive within you. And please know, you’re not alone in that work. I, along with many others, am experiencing the messages of slowing down, resting, resisting the need to do, and instead, just be for a while—and then for a while longer after that. There are so many synchronicities around letting go, allowing what is no longer stable or supportive to dissolve and dismantle, whether it’s our internal patterns or the ones we’ve spun into culture. So much of this human experience—individually and collectively—is rooted in tradition, fixed in "the way things have always been done," no questions asked. Yet, our bodies, minds, emotions, apathy, and attitudes are all begging us to begin anew. Tear it down. Keep what’s worth keeping, and leave space for what will truly remedy the pain, release the toxins, and allow us to rise into the fullest potential and bloom we are meant to embody.

Rest and resistance. Trust and flow. All of these energies are reminding me that it’s okay to let go of the timeline. It’s okay to set aside the plan and tune into the needs, wants, and joys within me. To allow the inner dreamer to emerge into the world, creating a life of joy, ease, service, and support that I know and believe I am here to experience. What about you? What’s been surfacing? What’s surging below the outer layer? I hope, with all my heart, you trust it, tend to it, and take your time.

As a Pisces, I hold a deep hope for a world where we can be more sensitive, more dreamy. Where empathy reigns over apathy, and we all show up as the creatives we are—using our gifts, our pain, and turning what was once poison into potent potions of love, joy, and ease. One of the greatest epiphanies I’ve had these past days—and maybe even weeks—is that for far too long, I’ve submerged these qualities, gifts, and strengths deep down. A few days before the full moon graced us with her light, a memory surfaced from grade school. I remember being in middle school, having different—but good—ideas. When it came time to ask questions, I had learned to listen first to those around me. As a brown-skinned, brown-haired, brown-eyed little Garcia girl, I quickly learned to be small, to take up as little space as possible. Be polite, be nice, don’t disrupt the status quo. Little did I know, I was creating a pattern. A pattern of silencing my questions and perceptions because when I heard my peers, I doubted my own. My ideas seemed too far from the ordinary, so I didn’t raise my hand. I learned not to share my thoughts, and that has lived in me since.

I learned not to give my wild and wonderful thoughts a chance, based on comparison and the fear that I was too far from the box. My epiphany is that I’ve been doing this all my life. What if, more than ever, we need ideas that are outside the box? We need voices that have been quiet or silent for most, if not all, of our lives.

Here, at 37 and a half years old, I am finally waking up to the power, purity, and potency of my ideas. And the time feels right to begin trusting them. I think, I feel, and I believe I am here to share the sparks within me that don’t always match or align with the outer world—and I’ve got to, I must, I will begin to trust that inner voice that has been guiding me all along. A voice with questions that stretch, with curiosities that call, with wonder that just might be the antidote to feeling more well.

I’m allowing insecurity to fall away and empowerment to rise. I know that not everyone—maybe even you reading this—may like what I have to say, or agree with what I see, or want to hear my truth, and that’s okay. For 37 and a half years, I’ve held space for everyone around me. In the lingering glow of this moon, I know the time is now to hold space for myself and let it all come flowing through.

I’ve played it safe and silent to conform with the current ways of the world, and maybe that was needed to bring me here. But I know it’s not what’s needed to transform the world or myself into what needs to be. I don’t judge the ways insecurity has kept me shallow. We can only be as well as the environments and energy around us allow. Insecurity is woven deep into our systems and selves. Enmeshment is real—we sync into that orbit, we take form in hopes of fitting in, we do what tradition and familiarity teach us to do. All of it has brought me to a place where I know security within myself. I know solidness. I know Sacredness. I will water it, feed it, trust it, and let it guide me into my creative ways and roles. For that, I am excited, energized, and hopeful to step outside the box and bounds, and be who I was born to be:

Curious, compassionate, fierce, and faithful…

Again and again,

If you can’t handle my depth, I kindly ask—with so much love—please, step off my shores.

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