I woke up at three in the morning a few days ago, staring at the ceiling and feeling like my head was full of static. Life has been a mess lately—deadlines piling up, the house is a wreck, and I just couldn’t find my center. Then I remembered people talking about this Wolf Moon thing. Usually, I don’t go for the “woo-woo” stuff, but I was desperate for some quiet, so I decided to actually try following the rhythm of it to see if I could find some peace of mind.
First thing I did was get out of bed, wrapped myself in a thick blanket, and just sat by the window. I didn’t turn on any lights. I just watched the moon. It’s called the Wolf Moon because, back in the day, people heard wolves howling out of hunger in the dead of winter. It sounds depressing, but sitting there, I realized it’s really about survival and deep reflection. I started by just breathing—nothing fancy, just inhaling the cold air and letting it out. I spent about twenty minutes just acknowledging how tired I was, instead of fighting it.
Facing the Inner Hunger
I grabbed an old notebook I hadn’t touched in months and started scribbling. I didn’t care about grammar or making sense. I thought about what my “hunger” was, just like those wolves. I realized my soul was hungry for some damn boundaries. I’ve been saying “yes” to everyone at work and “no” to my own rest. I wrote down three things that were draining my battery and literally crossed them out with a thick pen. It felt surprisingly good to physically scratch that stuff off the page. That’s the thing about this moon cycle; it’s the perfect time to identify what’s eating you alive and decide to stop feeding it.
Setting the Space
The next night, I took it a step further. I cleared off my coffee table which had been buried under mail and empty coffee cups. I lit a single candle—didn’t matter what scent, just something to focus on. I sat on the floor and tried to “howl” in my own way. Not literally screaming, but speaking out loud what I wanted for the rest of the winter. I told the empty room that I wanted clarity and a thicker skin. I spent the evening away from my phone, no scrolling, no noise. Just the flickering candle and the shadows. It was the first time in weeks my brain stopped buzzing.
- Unplug Everything: I turned off the Wi-Fi. If you want inner peace during a Wolf Moon, you can’t have pings and dings interrupting the silence.
- Trust the Gut: I stopped overthinking my decisions. I decided to trust my first instinct for once, which is a very “wolf” thing to do.
- Physical Purge: I threw away a bag of junk. Clearing the physical space helped clear the mental fog.
By the third day, something shifted. I didn’t feel like a Zen master or anything, but the “static” in my head was gone. I felt more like a predator—not in a mean way, but focused. I wasn’t reacting to everything anymore; I was just observing. I realized that inner peace isn’t about sitting in a flowery field; it’s about being okay with the cold, quiet parts of your life and knowing you’re strong enough to get through them. I started taking long walks in the evening when the air was crisp, just feeling my feet hit the ground. It’s a raw, honest kind of peace.
I’m keeping this routine up. Every time the moon gets full now, I’m going back to that window. I’m going to keep writing in that messy notebook and keep turning off the damn phone. It turns out, looking at the sky and admitting you’re struggling is the fastest way to actually feel better. You don’t need a fancy retreat or a guru. You just need to sit in the dark, face your own “howl,” and realize that the winter doesn’t last forever, but your strength does.
