The New Moon: Asking for your devotion.

There are New Moons that arrive with excitement—

and there are New Moons that arrive in stillness.

This one comes like silence at the edge of dawn.

A calling to pause.

A breath held just long enough for truth to rise.

This Sagittarius New Moon does not stir the mind toward more wanting.

It gently turns us inward with a question:

What are you devoted to now that the noise has fallen away?

Not every beginning announces itself.

Some enter as a calm nudge, steady, yet clear, and unarguable in their stillness.

This Moon feels, to me, like another path quietly opening.

A moment of orientation rather than movement.

The kind where the soul doesn’t rush forward, but recognizes the ground beneath its feet and says, Yes… this way.

Sagittarius carries the medicine of the long path—the pilgrimage, the vow, the quiet commitment to live in truth. Under this Moon, the invitation is not to expand outward, but to stand faithfully within what already is unfolding and devoting to that blooming.

And just a breath later on the calendar comes the Winter Solstice—the deepest night and the turning point of the year. On December 21, the Earth enters its longest night, a sacred pause where the Sun appears to stand still before beginning its return.

This is darkness as nourishment.

A holy stillness where roots gather strength and anchor even deeper,

where what is forming does not yet need language or shape.

If you’ve felt tired of striving, this Moon understands.

If you’ve felt ready to stop explaining your knowing, this season honors that.

If devotion has been returning—not to an outcome, but to a way of living—this threshold receives you.

Tonight, my intention for you:

To choose what already has chosen you.

To walk with what is devotion to your unfolding.

To release the need to rush what is already forming.

To continue to cultivate that which your spirit is longing to acquire.

The seed planted now is not meant to rush the surface.

It is meant to root deep.

As this New Moon and Winter Solstice open together, I will be entering a devotional communion—holding prayer, intention, and presence for the collective community. Those who feel called to be included may message me directly.

I hold this devotion often without naming it. As I am called to publicly mention it, I welcome those intentionally needing intercession. There is no need for any specification just your Yes to this process.

I hold this work within a sacred understanding of reciprocity—that when energy is received, energy is also offered in return. This does not belong to any single form. It may be a prayer, a gesture of devotion, an offering, or a tangible exchange—whatever arises naturally and honestly.

When divine reciprocity is alive, the stream remains clear and the work remains pure.

As I sit with this threshold—Moon and Solstice converging—I’m aware that some paths are already gathering those who recognize them.

And beneath all of this, I am asked to speak plainly about discernment.

I do not claim my knowing through theory, lineage, or borrowed language.

What informs me has been shaped through listening—deep listening—to the body, to life, and to what moves quietly beneath the surface of things.

Over time, I learned to recognize a quality of guidance that arrives without force, without urgency, without ego. It carries humility. It carries clarity. It carries a steadiness that does not need to convince. When I follow this current, there is coherence—within my body, within my relationships, and within the wider stream I am in relationship with.

Much of what I trust today comes not from what I studied, but from what healed. My body has been a faithful teacher. Through attuned presence and reverent attention, long-held patterns softened—breath returned, pain loosened, vitality reorganized itself. Not through opposition or control, but through alignment.

I offer this not as a declaration, but as a gentle inquiry for you as well. In this new moon..

Where do you source your information?

Who—or what—are you listening to?

Discernment is not about collecting ideas. It is about choosing who you trust to inform your becoming. I would not ask a bartender how to bake bread, nor seek instruction from someone who has only read the recipe. When something matters—when it touches the body, the nervous system, the soul—I look to those who have lived it, breathed it, and been shaped by it.

Cultivating this kind of discernment is essential.

It honors the body. the nervous system.

It keeps the heart in right relationship with truth.

I remain in conversation with life itself—with light, with others, and with the collective stream—to stay honest, responsive, and humble in my listening.

This is where my confidence comes from.

my certainty—my coherence.

May this New Moon and the still night of the Solstice remind you of what you already know:

You are just where you need to be at this moment.

You are called to continue this devotional path.

You are exactly here—

at the moment where the path becomes clear. And to this, we are never good enought not to require to be better. As wholeness does not end becoming.

Much love to all beyond human understanding,

Rev. Pauline Peralta