Tag Archives: time

Watching the Moon

cc 2008 by iceberg273 on Flickr

Friday night the sky was clearing as the post-Christmas heavy weather lifted. I watched the full moon rise through a veil of hazy snow. Our luminous satellite, la belle Lune, marks time for our world, counts out the days, turning the tides and illuminating our nights.

Full Moon marks an apex, a peak expansion, and a pause before contraction begins. Like the recent Solstice (literally ‘sun stands still’) there is an implied coming to rest. It is a good time for contemplation, meditation and prayer.

It’s traditional: a great deal of reflection and recounting the old year is swirling around us now, and of course it’s good to review and reflect. Then it’s time to put away that which doesn’t serve us going forward. This year we make our year-end lists and New Years vows under the light of the waning moon, gently moving forward into the dreaming dark.

Why not bundle up the disappointments and regrets of the year passed and release them into the night sky? And as you make those vows to-be-do have more in 2013, wrap them in lunar light and set them aloft as well. Make room in your heart for the tide of change to move freely.

From now until New Moon 1/11/2013 is the time to complete and clear away whatever is not needed for the fresh plantings of the New Year. Let the Moon lead you into the New Year, luminous with possibility. Feel the divine support inherent in the flow of time, as marked by the light of the Moon.

Resistance to Change

Henkel Flour Mill, Cleveland OH

I heard it took extra dynamite to destroy the foundations of the old Henkel Flour mills, when the Detroit riverfront docks were being renovated. It pleases me that my great-grandfather’s legacy was so stubborn.

Odd, since I so often want to smash the past and break that rigid shell of pretending we were all shiny happy people. I want to get to the real and painful stories underneath.

This is not to say I don’t grieve the past. When what seemed so solid falls away like so much superfluous skin, I clutch and cling, railing against the tide, imagining I must have done something wrong.

Perhaps it’s not really appropriate to get “comfortable” with “change.” Once I am comfortable, I want things to hold still.

Mountain Time

I spent the last week of August in the mountains, on the edge of the Shendandoah National Park.

Click here and play a song while you read!

Compared to my usual environment it was another world. Just 2 hours away by car, but a century away in lifestyle. Its the first place I’ve been in some years with no cell service, and of course no WIFI! I felt the loss of instant connectivity acutely for the first day, and then it melted away. With it went the need to know what time it was.

I was raised in flat sandy marshes, so the rocky places are a thrilling magical mystery to me. I am amazed and intrigued and astonished by the rocks and boulders, and love to connect with them. How did they come to be where they are? What shaped them? What are they made of, and what do they know?

Then there’s the visual experience. When young, I studied the dutch painters for their landscape was as flat as my own. Later in life I had the pleasure of living in the Finger Lakes of NY, and learned the ways of waterfalls.

But these are the Appalachians: believed to have been the highest mountains on earth roughly 460 million years ago. We enjoyed musing about the billion-year-old rocks.

So these boulders recall a great deal of time, in their journey from sharp peaks as lofty as the Himalayas to these rounded pebbles (the size of an elephant, or a house, or a mouse) softened with moss and lichen, worn by eons of rain. Hillsides softened with trees. Valleys filled with the stories of life, love, struggle, triumph and loss.

Look how we change with time. It’s an amazing story to see everywhere you look in the mountains.