The Eightfold Path Of The Super Moon

Perigee Moon March 2011

photo courtesy of Elizabeth Henkel Poisson, Rocky Coast Ramblings

We pay our rent or mortgage on the 1st of each month, contribute to the electric company’s coffers every 4 weeks, and re-up our cell phone minutes on a 30-day rotation.  This cyclical recurrence nearly resembles the orbit of the moon, and places us close to a cosmological rhythm, but isn’t there a better way for us to metronome time, one that doesn’t give ourselves over to the Gregorian calendar but instead relies on a truer beat? Why not attune directly with regular lunar movements?

Several years ago, on sage advice from a trusted astrologer, a friend and I embarked on a monthly ritual to routinely review our mutual progress along life’s meandering and convoluted spectrum, all on the night of the full moon.  Not only does this accentuate a natural order to the vicissitudes of our fortunes, but doing so is like cataloguing our journey, with a trusted and loving witness by our side.  Horizon-sighting is what we call it.

Often we’ve met for dinner, although occasionally our lifestyles necessitated meeting by phone.  We ramble on about our work, our loves and passions, our responsibilities, and our dreams, letting any and all come forth.  (Usually wine is involved; nothing pairs better with Old World pagan mysticism like a good Grüner.)  After a few hours of lubricating our imaginations, we end the night by individually naming what we see on our horizon, as far out as we can reach – a real-time report on what we know to be true, what we already believe inhabits our future.

An important distinction must be stressed to not ‘see’ something  we don’t feel to be true yet, nor call out what we would like to see, or what our fantasies might be.  No affirmations or other forms of ‘acting as if’ are invited.  This isn’t about pushing boundaries or manifesting, but about getting a clear vision of what we already know is possible, all under the regaling light of Diana, Roman goddess.

After we share what our scouts have eyed, we say private prayers of gratitude for the accompanying challenges we know will come, and the comforting guidance they’ll bring, once we surpass them.  It’s amazing when we look back at the previous month and see how far we’ve traveled, or not, and we explore the whys and why nots together.  It’s one of the most enriching activities I’ve ever done.

When I stepped outside this past Saturday, with the closest moon in a score of years, shining substantially brighter, I immediately felt a more powerful presence, and knew this was special.  It didn’t necessarily look bigger, but its light was intense, a brightness that was hard to take in.  I felt I could soar right up to it, that I could be an astronaut, that in fact everyone on Earth could become whatever they wanted to with a moon like that.  So much more seemed possible than ever before.  The night sky was transformed;  more shifted than just tectonic plates.  Indeed, I felt new paradigms crouching imminent on the collective skyline of humanity.

Back inside, I sat hundreds of miles away from my horizon-sighting friend this time and performed our ritual solo.  I clearly saw a finished play on whose research I’m just embarking.  This is a surprising new development along my writing path, for I never considered playwriting a genre within my capabilities, but there it is.  I also saw more joy and happiness than I’ve ever imagined, and although I’m not clear on the details, there WILL be dancing!  There was a simple, off-the-grid house: custom-designed, fresh and airy, filled with beautiful and generous people existing in harmony.

I don’t know how to get there, but it all awaits.

Sometimes we do shine more brightly, the closer we get to our core, and the other night dazzled, both above me and within me.  I felt bigger (and not just because I was bundled like an overgrown snowman against the cold night air.) My horizon tilted vertical, then towered.  The Noble Eightfold Path of Buddhism appeared anew:  a way to be in bright relationship, not just right relationship, dwelling in and of the earthly world as I do.

  1. (B)RIGHT View ~ I am finally beginning to see things as they really are (or so I think ;))
  2. (B)RIGHT Intention ~ I am committing to the dissolution of anger, desire, and harm, and replacing them with positive, conscious intent.
  3. (B)RIGHT Speech ~ This is hard and easy.
  4. (B)RIGHT Action ~ Integrity is rooting. Walking the walk isn’t as simple as it sounds.  Maybe I should try bouncing?
  5. (B)RIGHT Livelihood ~ The selling of intoxicants is past;  the future is about effervescently expressing what is true for me.
  6. (B)RIGHT Effort ~ This takes unwavering dedication, no small task.  However, my will can be unbreakable when I choose it to be.
  7. (B)RIGHT Mindfulness ~ Not even the super moon can illuminate this mastery, currently.  Maybe I need a tea ceremony.
  8. (B)RIGHT Concentration ~ The monkeys are frolicking! The monkeys are frolicking!

As I choose to orbit farther and farther outside of convention and spin closer and closer to who I really am, I am struck by how easy it is, and how blessed I am to be able to say in all the chaos of present times, “Goodnight, Moon.”

The Kinetic Silence

Fading off to sleep last night in Fort Greene, I half-expected to miss the Z train.  Car alarms, fire engine sirens, imbibing revelers on their way to the next whiskey bar – all what you get used to when you live in a city.  But I’ve been away from New York’s frenetic beat for almost two months.  Now I drift off at night to more natural sounds – rustling leaves, creaky old house sighs, the pitch and wail of the wind.  More relaxing, you might think…  However, while the urban racket is straight up and direct, just like the people who live there, it’s the indistinct, less familiar sounds – or lack of them – in the country that I sometimes find unnerving.  Is that a prowler?  A raccoon?  Or just my imagination?

So I’m considering taking a fresh approach when I return home. Instead of concentrating on those unfamiliar sounds – eventually knowing their schedules and moods enough to make friends – I will tune my aural radio to the silences in between, like musicians exploring the space between notes.  To the quiet I shall go, acquainting myself with noiselessness, determining if such a thing even exists.  I will survey the auditory landscape of moonrise.  I will ruminate on the whispers and groans of falling temperature.  I will attune my ear to utterances of nocturnal rest and death.

Have you ever slowed down long enough to hear blood coursing through your arteries and veins?  Focused on your own breath’s intonations, or contemplated the inhalations of bats and birds?  How about pondering the sound an earthworm makes as it transforms dirt into rich soil?  It is all too rare that we bring our attention down to this level, especially in relation to sound.  Visually we may;  indeed, many activities require us to see small details, but to listen that closely… to allow another sense to deepen that much?  I am eager to wander the unknown.  What a world I will encounter – by entering the haunted forest and hearing the fallen tree, I believe I will heal the skittish girl inside who jumps at every rasp and rustle.

%d bloggers like this: