When planning a trip, there’s always various modes of transportation to choose from, multiple routes one can take, highways and byways one can use. While traveling, there may be unforeseen mishaps, unexpected detours you’ll have to navigate, and changes in plans.
It is the same on the journey of life. So…I’ve been opening myself up to new opportunities that terrify me. It is a new feeling connecting to my feelings and heart.
What it took was akin to a breakdown on the side of a road with no GPS. I felt deserted and utterly lost…still do. But there are some indications–a sky full of stars, some internal compasses that I’ve been ignoring, a little healthy intuition. Civilization does exist somewhere. I’m still safe even though it feels disorienting and my thinking mind is hijacking my rational mind with so many potential scenarios that range from bad to worse. I breathe. I look around. I make like a tree and stand.
What is revealed to me (in silence) is how much space surrounds me. It’s something I’m initially not comfortable with because I’m so used to being crammed. I’m used to bustling city streets, nosy neighbors and a sense that every move I make is being monitored on some camera that is just out of my line of sight. This is paranoia but I don’t yet have the words to reflect on that agitated, irritable feeling I am feeling. I can’t yet feel anything because I’m so used to numbing anything that comes naturally to me.
I can smell trees. Lots and lots of trees. They invite me to look up, their branches reaching high into the sky without even getting close to touching them at all. I’m not even vaguely concerned about how little I’m registering. I haven’t yet felt just how much colder it is here…at least ten degrees lower than where I came from. The wind actually picks up just then and I can see some snow drift off the rafters of residential homes that surround me. Yet, everything blends in here; nothing is out-of-place or oddly shaped. Every roof is pitched and purposeful. Some homes are sprawling, expansive mansions which house no more than four people. Each person has their own room and a set of rooms in which to be. Rooms the size of amphitheaters with an unlimited supply of choices: libraries, kitchens (with islands in them), game rooms, offices and rooms to spare.
In what people call “the real world”, there are a lot of rules to follow. Since childhood, every moment was regimented, great care taken with secure guidelines to follow for an overall sense of well-being. But life doesn’t follow the instruction manual. When it fails or something goes awry, no one tells you what to do.
I have been on this road for almost one and a half years. The journey has been wrought with false assumptions, confusing twists and turns and continual doubts. Yet, it goes on and I go on with it.
So there I was–in the middle of the proverbial woods, trying to feel my feelings and slowly realizing that I was very small. Among the towering trees, I am a minuscule and finite being–the rocks that gather at their base will survive long after I am gone. But we are all made of the same cosmic dust and I take comfort in knowing that the trees and stars probably don’t ponder the nature of their existence. And even if they did, what could they do to change their location or their course?
I wandered to the backyard and found myself waiting for the moon to arrive; it did not disappoint. When it came, it illuminated the entirety of the clearing where I stood with a bottle of blessed water that I was asking the Moon Goddess to bless yet again. The contents of the bottle had already been infused by the light of such rare moon events that could not have been better if I had planned it myself. I was alone in the woods welcoming the moonlight’s beam and reciting aloud from a small handwritten piece to bless the women who I wished to celebrate on that specific evening: the night of the Super Blue Moon. It was all an impromptu ritual that I had patched together from things I’d read, a patchwork quilt of ideas with fill-in-the-blank inventions I had fashioned out of the ether. The trees continued to rustle in the wind and I began to feel the wintry chill so I pulled the robe that I wore close around me and finished. There was no need to repeat the women’s names aloud…I merely wished to recite the makeshift prayer and then plant it into the ground to let it grow.
I knew that God was all around me then. Once I had said what I had to say in Its presence, I retreated back inside to start a crackling fire. I felt so warm as the moon made its way through the inky black sky, stopping by so that I could be graced by its visit a second time. It felt as though it were an extension of my heart just then. I held the moon and the moon held me inside of it on a crater or into the very heart of the sphere where no eyes have looked for millions of years.
I took a final photo to mark the occasion as the fire emitted a beautiful luminous purple color, the chemical treatment of the wood reacting to the flames. I felt the spirits of the dearly departed hover within them, without them silently and kindly. I smiled, poured a glass of wine and raised a toast: I love them all to the Moon and back!