Perhaps it’s just me, but this full-blue-super moon has made me a little crazy today. Emotionally I’m quite responsive to the lunar cycle on a fairly subconscious level, but after years of my mum telling me “it’s the full moon!”, I have to concur, there’s a pattern.
I spent the day trying to write, confused, with all of this ‘life’ stuff going wrong and feeling like my brain was going to implode. Literally, if it could have challenged me today it has; but we’re here now, writing, so hell yeah to that.
Whilst trying to distract/inspire/motivate/bury my head in the sand this evening I flicked to a program called ‘Wonders of the moon’. They showed how the routes travelled on each Apollo mission can still be seen. Scars etched on the surface, still visible by satellite, unchanged.
There are only 12 sets of boot prints on the moon.
Out of the billions of people that have ever existed, only twelve have left their mark on that great, mysterious majesty in the sky.
These momentous steps that left their scars, so reflected in the trials of my own life. Those precious few who have gifted me with a lesson, experience and memories.
And for all the life I’ve lived and all the people that I’ve met I can only count a handful that I can say have physically changed me. It wouldn’t be conceivable to live life without their influence now. Whether good or the down-right fucking agonising that transmuted to good, they shaped me, made me.
What a beautiful thing it is to be able to recall the moments that refined you, without definition. I count less than a handful of those people in my life to date; and with life ahead of me I dare say there will be more.
The beauty of awareness is that I don’t dread the lessons now, though the process sucks I accept that they will come whether I’m ready or not, and through them I will grow.
For all the galaxies in the darkness of space and every star, I am the moon, and each of them a boot print on my heart.