how to find the full moon fully
"hurry up! we have to get there in time to see it rise!" I called to my 7 year old adventure buddy. We drive out and up to the highest spot around, parking just outside a nameless vineyard to await the arrival of the big pumpkin moon. We wait and wait, until the gloaming light is nearly gone. "will it every rise?" he wonders. And then, like magic, there she is. "wow, it's rising so fast!" he says, but really, it's us that's spinning like a slow motion top, and as that information settles in we both stand still, dumbfounded, as the big belly of the moon is revealed to our little spot on earth. thank goodness for gravity, I think. we clap. we sing a silly song. we give thanks. we get giddy. my body is noticeably lighter as I look on in wonder at the now floating orange orb, the outline of the oaks, the first stars, my child howling with coyote-like abandon. In celebrating something outside of myself, I get to be a part of the celebration, and it is medicine to my often-overwhelmed state. it's almost as if awareness is infectious, and the more we notice, the more we are noticed. I'm reminded of David Abrams words in The Spell of the Sensuous:
"to listen to the forest is also, primordially, to feel oneself listened to by the forest, just as to gaze at the surrounding forest is to feel oneself exposed and visible, to feel oneself watched by the forest."
It's a heady way of saying, "yes, when you love the earth, the earth loves you back." duh. why is this so easy to forget? Anyone else out there having a difficult time remembering to love the earth on a daily basis? It seems to require one thing to do so, and that's simple: to notice. but whole religions are made up on that notion, so I guess it's not all that easy.
We drive home, invigorated by the chilly night and the moon that now seems impossibly high, and climb into bed with the keen awareness that we are spinning - fast and constant - hurtling towards the morning light, with the sun already getting ready to make it's own grand entrance, if only we are there to applaud.