At the top of every month, I'd like to leave you a little note, a tone-setter of sorts for the period of time we have immediately ahead, and a moment to reflect on the weeks that have passed.
Today brings us another full moon, which marks a renewed opportunity to release that which no longer serves us. In our little family of three, we like to head to an outdoor space (which in New York City, usually means our rooftop), set up a station of candles and crystals, and wave our smudge sticks around each other (we get wonderful little smudge bundles from the women at Bohaus down the street, that they make lovingly with sage, rose petals, and sacred Palo Santo wood). We take pieces of paper and write down all the things we would like to let go, and set them on fire, watching as the smoke swirls into the wind, carrying worry and fear away with it. We wait until the embers cool, and return to our daily flow with a revitalized sense of purpose and unfettered focus on what lies ahead.
I feel like writing does the same thing as our little full moon ritual does. Putting your story into words allows you to let go of it, making space for a new chapter in your life. In fact, while reaching out to beautiful souls to contribute to our Story Bank, I have found that it is often those that are raring for a reset that jump at the invitation.
The stories that have been submitted so far are just a tiny slice of the range of the female experience. There is some interest to be had in both the story, but also the manner in which the stories are retold. As we all may very well know by now, hindsight is 20/20, and I hope the redemptory nature of September's stories remind those of you in the midst of trials of the potential of what comes "after" — after tragedy, after tumult, after the student has fully absorbed what the Universe is trying to teach her.
Currently reading "The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck" in which Mark Manson highlights why suffering is essential to the human existence. He says that plowing through our pain doesn't eradicate suffering from our lives, but it does help us suffer better—that both Warren Buffet and the hobo on the street have money problems, but that Buffet, because of all he's learned from his mistakes, has "better" money problems.
I believe that while lessons are best learned when you yourself have been burned, this does not always have to be the case. Gleaning experience from the lives and journeys of others helps exponentially in frog-leaping your way to your best possible life.
Which is, again, one of the reasons why this Story Bank exists. Let us live, and live to tell the stories that so shape us. Life can be poignant and beautiful, and reminders of the tender nuances of humanity might be exactly what we need to combat the panic that continues to grow elsewhere on this web of the world.
And so I leave you with some writing prompts for the weeks ahead, inviting you to explore, as the new moon approaches: finances, sex, intimacy issues, mental health, psychological examinations, self-examinations, research, or letting go of what no longer serves you.
These themes are timeless, but also timely, as so many of us (and those we know and love) struggle with mental health issues, matters of intimacy, and our relationships with money.
If you are moved to, you may e-mail Story Bank submissions for consideration to us at firstname.lastname@example.org