I wish I could remember the first time I saw the moon. I mean, the first time I really saw the moon. It would have been a moment like tonight, when my car turned the corner en route from pizza carry-out to my house. It was the most ordinary, unremarkable drive, until that moment when I turned my steering wheel toward home. Shining down on me was the full moon, radiant and glowing. The moon greeted me, beaming, like the face of an old friend.
I even gasped a bit, and my daughter instantly clued in. She shrugged at my awe over the obvious. “Yes, Mom. It’s the moon, Mom.”
I could ask “why?” Why am I do drawn to the moon? I am not sure the quest to answer that question would be any more rewarding than the simple awe of being present, face to face, with my full moon companion.
I think I do know the answer to that “why?” question, though. The answer lives in my soul, rather than my head. It’s because I know the dark, and I know that the light that shines in the darkness is not from an internal power source. Rather, the light that shines in the darkness as reflected in the moon reflects a power so much greater, more powerful, and yet hidden from our immediate view. We can almost forget about the Sun when we stand in the glory of moonlight on a dark, clear night. But the moon holds and reflects that light. The moon is a vessel, not a source. The moon collects, holds, releases.
I sit and feel the moonlight spill through my window. That light is evidence of the glowing sun, even in the dark of night when we cannot see. The darkness itself is made beautiful in the radiant light.
I sit tonight, pondering on the moon. I recall my dark nights of the soul, and the most clear moments of awareness. The moon has been my constant companion.
I have felt abandoned and alone; but I was never alone.
I have been unsure that there was light in me; yet, light reflected.
I felt suspended; I was actually held.
I have been caught in an inescapable pull; I was, indeed, orbiting.
I have reflected the radiance of divine Light not because of my own worth, but because I continued on each phase of my journey.
Tonight I look in the face of my friend the moon. I am aware of my waxing and my waning. She knows my light and my dark, both parts of the same whole. I have no need to hide in my radiance nor feel diminished when I am only a sliver of my true self.
Wisdom in the moonlight.
A small point of light.