Snow Moon - Did You Feel It?

The Snow Moon

Presence, Play, and the Power of Embodied Trust

The Full Moon in February is often called the Snow Moon—named for the deep winter snows that once blanketed the land. Energetically, this moon carries a quiet potency. It is not loud or demanding. It asks for stillness, honesty, and trust. It illuminates what has been building beneath the surface during winter’s pause and offers us an opportunity to release what no longer belongs—without force, without struggle.

The moon has always been a teacher for me. It speaks directly to our emotional body, our subconscious rhythms, and our intuitive nature. Full moons, in particular, are invitations into awareness. They amplify what is already present and gently ask us to listen.

This Snow Moon delivered something rare for me—a unicorn night.

One of those nights where everything falls into place with ease.

A Unicorn Night: When Alignment Takes Over

On the night of the Snow Moon, I found myself on my front porch in Connecticut, the cold air sharp against my skin, the moon glowing quietly above. Despite the chill, there was a deep sense of rest and renewal moving through me. I began my usual invitation—one of my favorite practices, corny or not.

I took a breath.

And then another.

And another.

Eventually, I dropped into that perfect pocket—the space where creation begins.

What unfolded was a playful, energetic calibration and release, guided entirely by intuition. There was laughter. Joy. Ease. Presence. A deep trust that allowed me to apply exactly what was needed in each moment—breath, Reiki, movement, directional wisdom—without thinking, without forcing. I wasn’t trying to “do” anything. I was listening. I was responding.

This is the kind of alignment that can’t be manufactured. It arrives when the nervous system feels safe enough to soften, when we get out of our own way, and when we trust the intelligence moving through us.

Breath as the Gateway to Trust

Those who know me know this:

I am a big fan of long exhales to calm the nervous system.

And I am an even bigger fan of breath holds.

Breath holds are honest teachers.

If you want to meet your panic response quickly, practice breath holds after a few intentional breaths. As carbon dioxide increases, the body sends a message: Something is wrong. Breathe now. But the truth is—we are not running out of oxygen. We are training the nervous system to distinguish between perceived threat and actual danger.

This is where trust becomes embodied.

When we stay present through that threshold—grounded to the Earth, focused through the third eye—we pass through the veil of panic. And when we trust the process fully, we are always rewarded. This is not conceptual trust. It’s not something we say. It’s something we do.

Trust lives in the body.

Flow, Wu Wei, and the Intelligence Beyond the Mind

As the night continued, I felt guided into intuitive movement—similar to Tai Chi or Qi Gong—where motion arises naturally from connection rather than instruction. Music played through my headphones, and each song carried its own energy, its own medicine.

I moved through the directions.

I listened to lyrics as vibrational messages.

I applied Reiki symbols intuitively, in different places, at different times.

Each song required something different. Each moment asked for a different response.

This is how intuition is strengthened—not by questioning it, but by using it. When we trust the information we receive—from our body, our breath, our environment—we build the muscle of inner knowing. Life becomes something we move with, not against.

This is flow.

This is Wu Wei.

This is being perfectly in the pocket of life.

Snow Moon Wisdom: Renewal Without Force

There was a gentle but powerful energy with me that night—grounded, wise, playful—supported by what I can only describe as elephant energy. Strong. Present. Protective. Connected deeply to the third eye through breath, guiding me with joy, laughter, and a sense of childlike happiness.

It was the antithesis of striving.

It was the embodiment of true abundance.

For the first time since neck surgery, I moved myself into new territory—breaking through barriers of breath and trust with patience and care. There were waves of elation, bliss, and out-loud laughter. Each phase began with intention and unfolded into aligned action.

No matter where the experience took me, I always came back home.

That is the gift of this work. It refreshes, renews, and rejuvenates us in ways that are undeniable. It teaches us resilience—not by hardening, but by softening. When fear or anxiety arises, we learn to meet it with a quiet smile that says, You don’t get my power.

The Invitation of the Snow Moon

The Snow Moon reminds us that trust is not spoken—it is lived.

Faith allows us to relax.

Safety allows us to receive.

Presence allows guidance to move us.

True abundance often looks different than what the ego asks for. It arrives when we are supple enough to notice it, humble enough to receive it, and grounded enough to hold it.

This moon invited us to slow down.

To listen.

To breathe.

To trust what moves through.

Even in the cold.

Especially in the quiet.

This is where renewal begins.