Full moon in Covid

It’s the full moon in cancer tonight, and the night before New Year’s Eve, when resolutions are created, or the old ones are dusted off for promise of a better year.

This year has been an oxymoron for me. The world seemed to go to pot, countries around the world were essentially shut down, businesses closed for long periods of time, and some not to open back up at all. Planes were grounded, as were the plans we had to visit family, friends and explore parts of the world that were once open to us.

It seemed like it was all doom and gloom, and for a bit it was. At the start of the Covid-19 pandemic, I was obsessed with numbers — the number of cases, the number of countries affected, the rate of infection, and even more morbidly, the number of deaths. At first, these were just numbers, a gauge, but as more and more of the world’s population were affected closer to home here in Scotland and back in Canada, the numbers turned into faces.

I saw faces everywhere — my cousins, my brother, sister-in-law and my nieces and nephews, the kind man down at the local convenience store, close friends, not-so-close acquaintances — we were all affected. We all had a personal story to share, of how Covid shaped us. And, last night, I saw another face — in the full moon in Cancer, riding high in the clear night sky over my West Lothian cottage.

I did a moon salutation, much to the amusement of my neighbours, I’m sure. I drank in the moonlight, and I would have even danced if I weren’t nervous about slipping on the pathway leading up to the door. It had snowed the night before, big, fluffy flakes, and I did dance that night, raising my face to the sky and taking in the quiet of what was really the first big snowfall of the season.

My neighbour danced too, or more specifically, she slid, all over the back laneway, amidst the falling snowflakes, the stars hidden by the clouds, and the quiet of the night shrouded by the promise of peace on earth. And, for that brief moment that first snowy night, and in last night’s moonbeam, peace seemed possible.

It still does. 2020 was a big year of change for me. It was the start of my big Scotland adventure, and the year that I took my promise back, and held it close to my heart. It was the start of believing in myself, my future, and in taking back the voice I thought I had lost in my childhood. It was a resurrection of Me. Linda. Writer. Author. Visionary. Rebel. It was the start of becoming who I have always wanted to be, who I had always been but had hidden away. I was unapologetically Linda.

I did a moon shower last night, and I will most definitely dance tonight. I will also bask in the promise of a new year, one day before the actual Eve. I will meditate. I will levitate, and I will see faces in the moon instead of numbers on a chart.

The Covid pandemic did a lot to us this year, but also for us. It reminded us that the status quo was not working. It wasn’t working for us, the earth, or our humanity. We had to think of new ways of doing things, of FaceTime and Christmas Zooms. It caused us to look outside of our bubble to envision a new reality. It did cause us to shirk away from hugs and kisses, if for a little while, but it also highlighted the importance and necessity of togetherness and unity against an invisible foe. I will never forsake an embrace again. It’s the one thing I miss the most. Forget the cancelled flights or the trips outside of my immediate area. It’s the ability to hug when I want, whomever I want, to show my love, care, concern, and importance of my loved ones. It’s the importance of making new IRL connections in my new home of the heart.

This year, many messages, memes and posts reflected on the past, the two World Wars, the Spanish Flu Pandemic, the Depression, where the world was at its most bleak, where people were dying and families were separated, as we are now. Then, the Keep Calm and Put the Kettle On message got us through, unity saw us to the other side. The war ended, the Spanish Flu was defeated, but it took time, it took effort, and it took all of us working towards a common enemy to defeat it. Covid is no different.

I may not be popular in the belief that this pandemic shut the world down for a reason: to right the earth and provide a restart for us all — to look at our life, our ways, our status quo — and figure out other means to create a world, a career, a mindset that will not only see us through, but will allow us to prosper, to elevate, and to ascend.

Tonight, I will dance in the moonlight, I will thank the moon for its guidance, and I will mediate on the next steps in my journey into 2021 and beyond. More importantly, I will thank the universe for the lessons it has passed on to me, and I will ascend into this new decade, with resolve, vigour, and with the kettle on.

Happy Full Moon, everyone.

Linda Erskine,

is a Canadian writer, author, and journalist, who lives with her boxer beast in West Lothian, Scotland. The first in her children’s series, George and Mildred: The Attack of the MeanieGirls, was published in 2020. The second adventure, Life’saBeach, is due to be released in Spring 2021. Linda is also the Director of Children’s Books for Oxygen Publishing, and is constantly inspired by stories. She hopes to guide other authors to realise their authorship potential. Visit to find out more about George, Mildred and their human, Linda.

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