June's Strawberry Moon

If you stepped outside last night, you may have noticed something different about the Full Moon. It seemed to hover low in the sky, glowing amber as it rose, as though it had drawn a little closer to the earth.

Known as the Strawberry Moon, June's Full Moon takes its name not from its colour, but from the season of ripening. Traditionally, it marked the time when wild strawberries were ready to be gathered. A quiet reminder that nature has its own rhythms of growth, abundance and harvest.

This year's moon seemed to amplify that feeling. Hanging unusually low above the horizon, it invited us to lift our eyes and slow our pace for just a few moments. Perhaps that is what we need most at this time of year.

June has a habit of becoming wonderfully full. School events. Holidays to plan. Gardens to tend. Even the longer days can somehow persuade us to fit more into them. Yet nature doesn't respond to longer days by rushing. It ripens.

And there is a difference.

Ripening cannot be hurried. Fruit sweetens in its own time. Seeds become flowers without checking the calendar. Trees put on another ring of growth without fanfare or applause. Perhaps we can allow ourselves the same patience.

Instead of asking, What else do I need to do? this Full Moon invites a gentler question.

What in my life is already quietly ripening?

Maybe it's confidence that wasn't there a year ago.

Maybe it's a relationship becoming more honest.

Maybe it's your capacity to rest without guilt.

Maybe it's simply the growing awareness that your worth has never depended upon how productive you are.

These things are easy to overlook because they don't arrive with fireworks.

Like strawberries in the hedgerow, they are discovered by those willing to slow down enough to notice. Yoga teaches us much the same. Every breath, every practice, every moment we return to ourselves is rarely dramatic. Yet over time, these small acts accumulate. They soften us. Strengthen us. Root us more deeply in who we already are.

Writing this on July 1st, the rising of the Full Moon has now passed, yet its invitation remains.

Spend a little time outside over the coming days. Sit beneath a tree. Notice the fullness of early summer. Ask yourself:

• What is ripening within me?

  
  

• What have I been overlooking because it has grown so gradually?

  
  

• Where can I trust that life is unfolding without forcing it?

Sometimes the greatest wisdom doesn't arrive like lightning. Sometimes it rises quietly above the horizon, asking only that we pause long enough to see it.