Dandelion Wishes
- Kelly Petersen
- Dec 5, 2023
- 4 min read

“If a lotus is to grow, it needs to be rooted in the mud. Compassion is born from understanding suffering.” “No mud, no lotus.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh.
The full moon connects me to the magic and wonders I experienced as a little girl. She was a wild, free spirit, blowing dandelion wishes into the wind. Even when the moon didn't feel like coming out to play, it taught me about hope. The last full moon unearthed a new layer of healing as I celebrated one year sober. With the days growing darker, and as I’m preparing for the winter ahead, I’ve found this waning moon guiding me back to that little girl.
With last winter leaving me in a deep depression, I could acknowledge the heaviness growing in my heart and the weight in my step. Discussing this with a friend who shared a similar experience, I recognized the season signaling us to prepare for winter and to remain awake through the dark. This new layer of healing connected me to the little girl I abandoned years ago. I found her next to memories of how life used to be, along with layers of suffocating grief.
The Yamas have taught me to check in with myself and my beliefs about the world around me, as we're all interconnected. This first limb reaches into the cracks within the foundation of every relationship, addressing obstacles to happiness. In my wellness plan, I call it my Moon Compass; I focus on yoga's first limb, called the Yamas, right after the full moon. They're foundational to the yogic practice and help to create an environment where my children, inner child, and new layers of healing can feel safe.
The Yamas:
Ahimsa: Non-Violence
Satya: Truthfulness
Asteya: Non-Stealing
Brahmacharya: Use of Energy, Moderation
Aparigraha: Non-attachment, Non-Greed
Each Yama tells me about the condition of my relationships. For example, when I first started my Yoga journey, I became increasingly aware of alcohol's negative impact on my life. Yoga gave me the awareness and tools to be sober, with the Yamas first focusing on my relationship with alcohol. The Yamas go to the root of suffering, the belief system, to shine a light on a more kind, true, honest, moderate, and grateful path.
This recent phase of healing has directed my focus toward my heart and throat, correlating with the heaviness I’ve experienced these past few weeks. I followed my grief back to Samhain when I laid pictures on the All Saints altar to commemorate those dear to me who have departed. The collection of these pictures has grown significantly over the past few years. Time feels relentless, leaving little opportunity to pause and catch my breath from the feeling of loss.
I couldn't stop thinking about those pictures. Their ages felt like a gut punch compared to the others on the table. They are all so, so young. Last week, I felt them scattered in my mind, and I felt an urgency to gather them all into one place. I collected the pictures of all the dear young ones who have passed and made a collage. I found peace knowing they were all together, but knew that this grief was something I needed to process within my root and Yamas.
I like to go for grounding walks to process my thoughts and emotions. They connect me to the earth, the element of the root chakra, and bring me back into my body, which is crucial during these waning and transitional times. I went for a grounding walk recently, (watch my reflection here) and my attention was returned to the collage. Journeying into the dark, I found the pictures shining a light onto my heartache, reminding me of time's healing path.
The leaves were falling all around, crunching underneath my feet and reminding me of the dancing dandelion girl. I played my waning gibbous Spotify playlist (yes, I have a waning gibbous playlist), and like two great friends, it felt like no time had passed since I'd heard it last. Each song fell in sync with nature, like a symphony, orchestrating my every emotion and move. I felt led to make a bouquet from the Earth's elements, which felt like a conduit for my grief to flow through. Each song and falling leaf grounded my step and reminded me I was right on time.
My heart and steps felt lighter when I gave grief a name. I called it the Young Ones and placed them on my heart's altar. Together, they stand like a lighthouse guiding me safely back home to myself. The Yamas have exposed my unhealthy perception of time, and the grounding walk exposed my conditioned habits and stress responses to this unhealthy relationship. The Young Ones live on through me, making it crucial that I stay awake, something my playlist reminded me of with Arcade Fire’s song, “Wake Up".
This grounding walk led me to a deeper understanding of Gandhi's teaching: "Be the change you wish to see in the world." With a new layer of healing, I’ve released the feeling of lost time, which has been an obstacle to happiness. I can “be the change” by finally living a shameless life with sobriety. The dandelion wishes began to come true when I woke up, got sober, and got the tools needed to stay awake. Through my Yamas, I am encouraged to build my support and create calming environments.
I invite you to pause the holiday rush and check in with your heart before the New Year. Let’s strengthen our support with a wellness map and a community to walk with. Check-in with your root, create energy, space, and a playlist for your inner child to dance around. Make a warm home for your dandelion wishes with a safe mind, body, and spirit.
Should you get lost along the way, remember to return to your breath, intentions, and the first step of healing, Ahimsa, by practicing no harm in thought, word, and action. May your dandelion wishes be well-rooted, like a lotus in the mud, and hope restored with the next full moon and new year ahead!
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