From full moon to full moon is almost 30 days. In between the full moons we see varying sizes of slivers. The faithful sliver never disappears. No turn of the earth, nor gravitational pull or tilt will ever hide that part of the moon, that tiny sliver. It is always there.
You can’t, however, say there is only a sliver of a moon hanging in the sky. It is the whole moon. The angle of the sun is what darkens the moon leaving only the sliver for the human eye. Those with telescopes can see the whole moon. Is it the intensity of the magnification that allows us to see the whole rather than the sliver? Or perhaps the lens is the willingness to ignore the sun’s angle, its trick of light, and see the moon as it is now, tomorrow and will be – full. We are astronomers of our hearts and this day. Without our telescopes in full power we would never know the presence that completes the sliver.
I look up to the moon and remind myself to not curse the darkness of the night when I have only the sliver to guide me. I remind myself not to reserve my celebration only for the full moon which lightens and illuminates my way. They are the same, just different angles. I remind myself to see the whole and not just the part.
I will walk with this awareness and like the full moon embrace the slivers. Before you think me wiser than I am, I must confess a tiny sliver in me thinks 30 days is a long time. I miss the full moon.
Showing posts with label gratitude. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gratitude. Show all posts
Monday, April 12, 2010
Friday, March 19, 2010
Longing and Layers
The feet of snow have finally melted and yes I do have shingles on my roof and the grass is still there. The snow/ice sculpture on my roof that reminded me of a dolphin, then a wave and then a question mark is gone. I will miss nature’s artwork when I drive into my driveway. She always welcomed me home after a long day at work and made me smile.
A couple of days in the 50’s and even a 60 degree day kicked the top of the ant hill and we all scurried out of our winter caves. Today, nature chuckled and played the role of prankster and ushered in a taste of winter. Were winter and spring having a friendly joust? Knock knock. Who’s there? And spring replied, “Tis I.” At which time winter laughed and locked the door.
Winter’s clouds have hidden my stars and moon tonight. I look up to see my friends and they are once again cloaked in winter’s snuggly. I must confess, a frown jumped upon my face while I was not looking. But feeling the furrows in my brow my lips drew the drawstring and pulled them back and left me with a smile.
Perhaps this is nature’s way of tilting her head , looking over her glasses, as my mother would do, and with an ever so subtle smile suggest I rethink what I was about to do or say. We may divide the seasons with blocks of time and calendar squares, but they remain eternally layered one upon another. The chill tonight reminds me that the spring and summer’s warmth will come but soon I will miss and look forward to winter’s sweatshirts, thick socks and the silence of the first night snow. Layers.
And so to my hidden stars and moon, like the treasured memories in my heart, sea shells, friends, family and my dreams – I celebrate your layers. I celebrate your timelessness. I celebrate your eternalness. I embrace each of you with the hope of spring, the laughter of summer, the gathering of fall and the reflective winter’s heart. I pull the blanket up over your shoulder, tuck it in and kiss your forehead goodnight. And in my dreams, layered with the seasons and eternity, I shall lay down beside you and myself and in wakeful slumber dance with life.
A couple of days in the 50’s and even a 60 degree day kicked the top of the ant hill and we all scurried out of our winter caves. Today, nature chuckled and played the role of prankster and ushered in a taste of winter. Were winter and spring having a friendly joust? Knock knock. Who’s there? And spring replied, “Tis I.” At which time winter laughed and locked the door.
Winter’s clouds have hidden my stars and moon tonight. I look up to see my friends and they are once again cloaked in winter’s snuggly. I must confess, a frown jumped upon my face while I was not looking. But feeling the furrows in my brow my lips drew the drawstring and pulled them back and left me with a smile.
Perhaps this is nature’s way of tilting her head , looking over her glasses, as my mother would do, and with an ever so subtle smile suggest I rethink what I was about to do or say. We may divide the seasons with blocks of time and calendar squares, but they remain eternally layered one upon another. The chill tonight reminds me that the spring and summer’s warmth will come but soon I will miss and look forward to winter’s sweatshirts, thick socks and the silence of the first night snow. Layers.
And so to my hidden stars and moon, like the treasured memories in my heart, sea shells, friends, family and my dreams – I celebrate your layers. I celebrate your timelessness. I celebrate your eternalness. I embrace each of you with the hope of spring, the laughter of summer, the gathering of fall and the reflective winter’s heart. I pull the blanket up over your shoulder, tuck it in and kiss your forehead goodnight. And in my dreams, layered with the seasons and eternity, I shall lay down beside you and myself and in wakeful slumber dance with life.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Learning to Listen
It is a blank piece of paper with no words, lines or marks not even a doodle. Pure. The once cool metal of the pen is getting warmer as my fingers play with its texture. Waiting. An internet search, made months ago, taunts me-there are over three quarter of a million distinct words recorded in the English language. Abundant. The puppy’s antics attract my attention and I turn to verbally correct but smile and say nothing. Grace. I smooth the tear drop on the unwritten page and close the journal. Touch. I bow my head in acknowledgement of the heart mirror. Gratitude.
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