A ghostly bright and full moon greets me as I step outside this campervan morning. Slowly descending in the west, mesmerising as she travels, Jupiter also visible just below her. What a morning, moon overhead and planets visible with the naked eye. The Oak silhouetted by her ethereal light, it’s quite a start to the day. An early chill on the air, catching on ears and fingers as well as on my chest. Vestiges of last nights torrential rain and storm lie around me. Damp on the air once again, though calmer than it has been. Crows and Robins are the order of the morning, a mixture of song, warnings on the air and busy with it. The sky shaded blue and cloudless at the moment as the day wakes, accompanied by a Sunday stillness.
There is something about the early morning full moon that puts you in perspective, something very primordial, something that peels away the layers, that exposes parts of you. The wonderful Suzy Kassem writes :
“ Everybody has a little bit of the sun and moon in them. Everybody has a little bit of man, woman, and animal in them. Darks and lights in them. Everyone is part of a connected cosmic system. Part earth and sea, wind and fire, with some salt and dust swimming in them. We have a universe within ourselves that mimics the universe outside. None of us are just black or white, or never wrong and always right. No one. No one exists without polarities. Everybody has good and bad forces working with them, against them, and within them. “
This morning was about the moon part of me, the night part of me, rather than the day part of me. Acknowledging the other kinda hidden part. Yesterday was more about the sun part of me.
The world seems a little slow to start this morning. So I sit and observe its slow reveal. Reflecting on yesterday’s community circle and a conversation with a father. He, his wife, carers and his two disabled boys attend the circle regularly. One of them has many issues and requires a huge amount of care and is in a wheelchair. He has spent a prolonged time in a coma and survived once more. His father is considerate and a gentle soul ( They nearly almost always are ). At the close of the circle we chatted and he explained that I may have missed it, but his son in the wheelchair, played the frame drum unaided and in time, which was a massive first and a huge step forward for the young man and the family. He was truly touched and excited about this leap, and to some extent lay the credit at my door. However we all know that it’s the power of the drum, making music and a huge amount of courage and connection from the beautiful young man. So has I stop and sit here beneath the oak, I am contemplating the sun part of me and the moon part of me, each in balance, the polarities of who I am in the shape of the early morning moon and the work I do in the shape of the early morning sun. Don’t forget it’s self care Sunday, so do something for you today. Lovely days people.
“ Tell me the story.. About how the sun loved the moon so much.. That she died every night.. Just to let him breathe...” Hanako Ishii.
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