Friday Musing: Hanging Out With the Moon

This morning, I relish the gift of cooler air, sunshine, a bright blue sky, and white clouds slowly moving from west to east.

It is such a different scene than last night, still so deeply present in the light of day.

Around 8:30 PM, I turned off all the lights and stood at the tall kitchen windows to watch the rising of the last supermoon of the year.

It is my full moon ritual, to witness the beauty and make wishes on it.

There’s the song about when you wish upon a star, but I find myself always wishing upon the full moon, sometimes out loud. I pretend it is listening and is paying attention to my hopes and dreams.

Last night, the ritual turned into absolutely mesmerizing moments as I observed the journey from just above the horizon… up, up, up into the sky.

I fell completely under the moon’s spell.

All of the clouds stood still.

They froze in place, as if waiting their turn to be illuminated by the supermoon’s light.

The moon, for its part, had the most delightful time playing with the clouds on its upward journey.

The huge orange ball rose from behind the wall of pine trees, letting itself shine through the various arrangements of branches, a bit of orange here, a bit of orange there, teasing out the longing to be seen and felt in its fullness.

And then…and then the very roundness of its top began to peek above the treetops.

I fell into a deep well of observation, more as if I was immersed rather than simply dipping.

The immense, sheer beauty of the clear orange ball was so bright I could hardly take it in.

That is what is most photographed when there is a full moon. It is the big orange ball in all of its observed placements around the world. People patiently wait to catch just the right photograph…the one they have been hoping for.

After showing up in spectacular clarity, on its stage of the sky, the moon began to meet the clouds that were waiting.

It felt like a game of hide and seek. Parts of it disappeared and other parts of it appeared between the designs of the various cloud shapes. At one point it looked like the new moon, at another, like the half moon.

Finally, this fiery ball of energy was completely hidden.

And yet it wasn’t at all.

The moon surprised me with the favorite moment, a moment when all I thought I had been waiting for disappeared behind the clouds.

While I could not see even a speck of orange, I noticed that its light spectacularly illuminated the clouds that stopped in place, their wait over.

A backlight shone behind them.

They seemed to be given center stage, changed in their appearance and presence.

Their rims became magnificent outlines of glowing light.

The total effect was one of the most beautiful moments of nature I have ever seen.

This is the thing.

The moon lit up the clouds.

It transformed them.

As I was bathed in the magic, the question I asked myself is, “How can I shine a light, even if just to touch the clouds of this world in some way that lets me focus on the potential for beauty?”

There are so many varieties of clouds on this planet right now, as there always have been and always will be, just as there were in the sky last night.

When we choose to be in their company and shine from behind them, on them, and through them or around their edges, it makes all the difference in how they are seen and felt.

They can be transformed, just as last night’s array in the sky.

This is what the full moon showed me in its glorious moments of hiding, yet not hiding at all.

Not needing to always be seen, not always center stage, and yet being completely present in such a way that transformation happens, or perhaps at least begins.

The moon is the one I want to hang with for a while. I want it to continue to teach me, to illuminate the rims of my life when it is full and has my back. I want it to continually inspire me to do the same for others.

I invite you to come hang with me and realize the differences we can make.