I've watched all of my children become intrigued by the shadows they cast down upon the Earth. It comes early. They realize this thing is following them around and that it moves when they move. Then there comes that moment of realization that it is indeed a reflection of their own person and they start to play with it. I actually consider that moment and looking in the mirror for the first time a really big deal. It's the beginning of our spiritual journey, in a way. It's an awareness. The first instance when you realize you are separate and distinct. It is the beginning of a whole chain of other thoughts that come in different stages of your life and build upon one another.
Watching the shadow of the Earth creep so slowly across the moon was one of those moments too. The exact curvature of the Earth mirrored back. Then, once covered entirely, the moon hung there, obscured and smooth and dark red like a Christmas ornament. Watching the edge of the Earth creep so slowly was a reminder of that feeling of separate, a viewpoint that we almost never get to see in this way.
My father likes to say every time we are on the little beach on the lake in Maine, "In our universe alone, there are more stars than all of the individual granules of sand on this beach, more than you could even count. Isn't that amazing." He is full of wonder. Even at 75, he is always full of curiosity and wonder.
It took 12 hours to get home. It is so remote and separate there, but quiet and peaceful, a good chance to notice things like shadows and see how they play across the water and the moon. Love can do that too, reflect back the soft edges of ourselves.
'Moon and Water'
by Mary Oliver
I wake and spend
The last hours
Of darkness
With no one
But the moon.
She listens
To my complaints
Like the good
Companion she is
And comforts me surely
With her light.
But she, like everyone,
Has her own life.
So finally I understand
That she has turned away,
Is no longer listening.
She wants me
To refold myself
And, bending close,
As we all dream of doing, she rows with her white arms
Through the dark water
Which she adores.
Watching the shadow of the Earth creep so slowly across the moon was one of those moments too. The exact curvature of the Earth mirrored back. Then, once covered entirely, the moon hung there, obscured and smooth and dark red like a Christmas ornament. Watching the edge of the Earth creep so slowly was a reminder of that feeling of separate, a viewpoint that we almost never get to see in this way.
My father likes to say every time we are on the little beach on the lake in Maine, "In our universe alone, there are more stars than all of the individual granules of sand on this beach, more than you could even count. Isn't that amazing." He is full of wonder. Even at 75, he is always full of curiosity and wonder.
It took 12 hours to get home. It is so remote and separate there, but quiet and peaceful, a good chance to notice things like shadows and see how they play across the water and the moon. Love can do that too, reflect back the soft edges of ourselves.
'Moon and Water'
by Mary Oliver
I wake and spend
The last hours
Of darkness
With no one
But the moon.
She listens
To my complaints
Like the good
Companion she is
And comforts me surely
With her light.
But she, like everyone,
Has her own life.
So finally I understand
That she has turned away,
Is no longer listening.
She wants me
To refold myself
And, bending close,
As we all dream of doing, she rows with her white arms
Through the dark water
Which she adores.
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