The message the moon gives me is never half-assed. It’s generally whole-hearted and clear as a bell, clanging the ingredients that live inside my chest out into the universe like a Town Crier—boomeranging far beyond the places that I can see and hear and then ricocheting back around the eternal space I’ve proclaimed for myself in order to be shiny and new, over and over again. I radiate brighter because of the moon. I shine and fill up and plan for my next showing. But mostly I reflect and wallow and wane, knowing that one look up toward the sky will catapult me into a new feeling phase where I will become more lucid.
There are times when I’m able to see what I do and there are times when I am not. In my most brilliant moments I can glance outward and inward at the same time, making sense of what it is I’m creating for myself, what it is I’m creating for the people around me. In my least lovely moments I remain asleep to who I am and what I do.
I’ve made it a point to try to keep myself next to myself, alive and thriving.
In the scrawniest part of my soul I wish I hadn’t chosen to examine and witness who I really am. It seems easier, at times, to be a sleepwalker, bumbling down tunnels of fluff, unaware of outcomes, causes and truths about my own frenetic nature—the way I want and long for and grab at and retreat from. How many times have I wished that I weren’t the way I am?
But as I’ve gotten older and I’ve practiced the job of promising myself to be aware of what I do, I’ve grown to admire the gorgeousness of humility and the far-reaching view my open eyes give me and for the first time in a long time I can take my own breath in and breathe my own breath out and say to myself That’s Beautiful.
Yours In An Alarming Amount of Cornball,
I try so hard to be the vibrant me. The me who goes with the flow, smiling and docile. The me who lets go regularly, almost instinctually, never minding what others think. Focused, free, unencumbered is how I am in those moments when I allow myself to be cemented in everything that is not a reflection of who I am.
Hard work, this being vibrant and whole. Hard work, this being un-enmeshed from all that crowds my lovely over-active brain of who is what and she said that and I think this and he believes that.
But when I slip into that sweet spot of allowing it all to fall away I see the colorful sweetness of separate and I know that vibrant shadow that I have, just waiting to catch up with who I am, is meandering in the background waiting to be of assistance. Waiting to show me who I really am.
Life’s a Goof,
If I could I would tell you that I rely heavily on the evening sky. The colors, mainly, and then the shape of the clouds and how all that shiny gorgeousness acts as the back drop for whatever it is that remains closest to my sight.
The blues and pinks and oranges and yellows show a side of themselves that make me wonder if they would look as gorgeous without the deep, dark backdrop of anything black that seems to balance them and showcase their true startling beauty.
Yours In Contrast Worship,
Amelia the Astronomer
Dear Master of the Universe and what not,
I know you’re overwhelmed with prayers for weight loss from every Tom, Dick and Harriet but if you could find it in your schedule to squeeze in a couple New Year’s wishes from me I’d be incredibly thankful. You see, this year I’d like to request delightful breezes as opposed to large gusts of wind that knock me on my ass and I’d be ever so grateful for endless cups of perfect tea that fill me with a sense of warmth and belonging as I try to make my way along this crunchy little path I’ve chosen for myself. And while you’re at it can you arrange for every single last bone and limb and smile that belong to my loved ones to be kept perfectly safe and unharmed? That would be grand, as would your everlasting guidance when it comes to the new remote that entered my homestead recently and the upsurge in moths that seem to be into practicing swarm routines in my living room. And speaking of patience and bravery, could you extend extra servings of those to me?—along with a steadfast devotion to my own clunky heart that I know will benefit from any sort of lucky balm you have to massage it with. But just say you’re too busy and you can’t find time to fulfill all of my 2014 wishes, could you just make sure that I am able to open up to the world more as opposed to closing down because of it. I know it’s a lot to ask but I promise if I am able to continue to expand instead of contract I’ll do my best to make the planet a better place, thank you for your time you may be seated amen.
It Never Hurts To Ask,
Ramona the Rigorous Requester