You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘full moon’ tag.

The moon was setting this morning when I went to work, a cue ball sinking into pastel clouds of baby pink and blue, rising and dipping in the curve of the mountains.

The moon was rising when I came home from work, a huge yellow ball, slipping in and out of clouds and trees and darkness.  We played, the moon and I.  It filled the windshields of the cars in front of me, and led me down a different road as I tried to catch up to it. I wanted to drive all the way into it, wrap myself up in it, sway and dance in its curves and light.

But I couldn’t quite reach it.

It made me smile to try.

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The blue moon – one definition of which is having two full moons in one calendar month – happens tonight, and won’t happen again until July 31, 2015.  While I will be somewhere tonight watching the moon, I liked the warm-up show that it provided last night on Broadway near the Gothic Theatre.

Denver, Colorado.

Quote of the day: “Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.”  ~Buddha

Daily gratitudes:
My super-sparkly disco earrings
A full tank of gas
Giving hope and two dollars to a homeless man this morning
Road trip with Kelsea starting this afternoon
Music nights with MKL

Photo title:  Supermoon

Quote of the day: “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear.”  —  Ambrose Redmoon

I woke at 1:30 this morning.  The moon was so bright that it was casting huge shadows across my bed. 

For those of you who remember my post about which side of the bed you sleep on, you’ll be interested to know that I’m branching out.  Maybe because my hot flashes are playing like a baby at night.  My bed has grown extra pillows somehow, and when I’m too hot, I find myself throwing off the covers, flinging myself sideways, and using the multitude of pillows as surrogate blankets.  I’m strangely padded by cool sheets and pillowcases until I get too cold, then rearrange myself in a more normal and customary position.

Last night though, when I awoke, I wasn’t unhappy about it – I was just awake.  I sat cross-legged on the bed for a while, letting the shadows play across my skin.  I even tried to take pictures, but I doubt they came out.  It was magical – just me and the moon.  Moonlight must be good for you, just as sunlight is, but in a different way.  It provides you with “yin” energy, which increases serenity and sensitivity.  Unfortunately, it doesn’t spur you too much action.  Which kind of makes sense, since after all, it IS the middle of the night and you ARE supposed to be sleeping.

Of course, Urban Dictionary also defines a moonbath as “farting under the full moon”.  That rather takes some of the bloom off the rose.

I think I’ll stick with my original definition.

I don’t quite recall when I started measuring time by full moons.  I think it was after my first trip to the islands,  5 years ago.  It seems unbelievable to me that it has only been 5 years since I have been going down there.  My travels have changed my life in more ways than I would have thought possible, and opened me up to a wealth of experiences and people I otherwise would never have known.

The moon has always played an important and mystical role in my life.  It has been a touchstone, a pearl in the night sky that has watched my tears splash on my thighs, a sliver that has cradled my waking dreams, a semi-star that has connected me to people I love thousands of miles away.  It’s brightness has awakened me countelss times, and I never mind – each time that happens, I am wonderous.

It’s the planet of my birth sign, it influences the tides of the oceans that flow in tempo with my blood.

I have never wanted to visit the moon, but have always enjoyed being able to see the topography of its surface on bright, full nights.   On a less romantic note, I think about all the trash we have deposited there in our efforts to explore and understand it, as if we can ever understand a planet – we can’t even take care of our own.

The moon is an important component of so many of my memories.  Karen dropping to her knees and saying a prayer to it in the K-Mart parking lot when she saw the moon rising huge and orange over the horizon.  Watching it eclipse from a railyard with a near-forgotten waiter from Pyewacket, while dogs in all directions barked and howled.  Skinny-dipping beneath its beams in White Bay.  The first time I laid eyes on the beach in Tulum, lit only by moonlight and bright as day.  Sailing on Temujin in Lake Michigan and watching it make a slow track through the sky.  Improvisational dancing to Sam’s “Ode to the Moon” during a multimedia performance when I was 17.  Holding it in my hand after tequila on a warm Mexico night.

On my first trip to the Islands, I went to the famous full moon party at Bomba’s on Tortola.  I was so sunburned from snorkeling I could hardly move, and I attended with a friend I’d made on the beach a few days before.  I was so not into it.  I couldn’t move without hurting, and everyone seemed to be standing around waiting for someone else to do something interesting.  It reminded me of a Frat Party.  My friend was jumping around, having a good time, drinking mushroom tea, but it just didn’t work for me.  It’s one of those things I’d try again though – could have been my state of mind that night.

Bomba’s aside, the moon on the islands, on the water, was magical, and once I got back to Colorado, I found myself looking for it in all its phases.  My once-in-a-lifetime trip turned into every six months (or more often if I could squeeze it in), and I started counting by full moons – only 5 more full moons until I go back, only 4, only 3…

Time has always been a game for me – sometimes I can control it, sometimes I can’t, but it’s something I play with.  Sometimes measuring things in terms of days feels longer than weeks, months feels shorter than days, it just depends on me, on the thing I’m measuring, on the day itself.  But measuring by the moon offers me a stable, reassuring feeling.  It doesn’t mean that I’ll necessarily be returning during a full moon.  It just means that there will come a day when the face of the full moon will shine down on me, and shortly thereafter, I’ll be by the sea, letting its rhythms charm their way into my body and soothe my soul.

Each month, having that moon grow full and round, edge up into the sky over the plains, sink down behind the mountains in the early morning, provides solace and comfort, a reminder that some things, like love and the moon, are constant and eternal.

Just one more thing to be thankful for.

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