Friday the 13th: Lunar, Fertile, and Oh So Yo Perreo Sola.

Every time Friday the 13th comes around, people start acting as if the universe is in a bad mood. Suddenly no one wants to start anything new, take a risk, or tempt fate, as if the calendar itself might be waiting to catch them doing something reckless.

Meanwhile, the moon is overhead doing exactly what she always does, completely unafraid and not the least bit interested in our nervous little rules.

The number 13 belongs to her. There are thirteen lunations in a year, and for most of human history that is the rhythm people trust — not the tidy grid printed in a planner, but the one written in light across the sky, whether we notice it or not.

Friday itself comes from Freya’s day, and she is no shrinking violet. She rules over love, beauty, pleasure, fertility, gold, and desire. She rides in a chariot pulled by cats (which I aspire to, of course), and she sways to her own rhythms without asking permission from anyone with a clipboard.

Friday the 13th Was More About Getting Down

If anything, the number 13 has always been tied to growth, repetition, and the slightly unruly way life keeps renewing itself. In older agricultural traditions, days like this were considered excellent for encouraging abundance. People didn’t stay indoors worrying about omens. They went outside, lay down in the fields, laughed a little louder than usual, and got down in the dirt in hopes that the crops might get the idea.

Want fertility? Demonstrate enthusiasm.

At some point this became a little too lively for patriarchal society, so the story changed. Now 13 is unlucky. Friday is suspicious. Anything involving bodies, moons, or pleasure suddenly requires supervision by people who are deeply uncomfortable with all three.

Meanwhile, the moon keeps moving her way, every day, entirely unimpressed.

How can we celebrate a moment like this?

Go outside. Play music. Move your hips a little. Or a lot. Participate wholeheartedly in LIFE. Let the planet know you’re still paying attention.

Bad Bunny’s Yo Perreo Sola says it all, even if you don’t speak Spanish.

Honestly, that feels much closer to how our earlier ancestors approached Friday the 13th — less fear, more rhythm, and a general understanding that nature responds very well to people who are willing to get into it.

Dancing as I write,
Lori