After I wrote my I Wish post where I mentioned that it felt as if I were losing control, as if bits of me were floating off into the ether, a friend suggested I go to Tao Road and gather a bit of Dao, the big picture, the harmony of the whole. I couldn’t do it right away, but on Saturday night I went to Tao Road and walked far out into the desert to watch the full moon rise. It was a perigree moon, (more commonly known as a super moon), a full moon rising at its closest point in its orbit around the earth.
It was lovely. Just me, the desert floor, the knolls in the background, an immense and immensely bright yellow moon slowly creeping into view. I lifted my arms in the port de bras I’m learning in ballet, and framed the moon in the circle of my arms. For just a moment, it seemed as if the moon and I were one, and then it drifted up out of my embrace.
As I walked back to town, the moon disappeared behind a knoll, and I stopped and watched it rise again. And ten minutes later, it disappeared behind a higher knoll, and I stopped to watch it rise a third time.
Such a magical evening!
Of course, here I am again, in the hell of my life, but I have the memory of that triple super moonrise to give me light. And hope. And courage.
Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.