A Full Moon, The Eighteenth Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

It was a full moon this week. I love looking up on a clear night and viewing the magical, mystical moon between the high rises. Ever since I was a child I’ve found the moon an enchantress. Myths have their place, and for many years I counted on myths to justify my outsized love of a full moon. In times of feeling invisible I felt seen by the moon.

The lure of the moon as a symbol of feminine energy resonated with my earliest feminist leanings. Now at the foreseeable dawning of my senior classification, I am still drawn to the phases of the moon. Perhaps it is the passage of time that resonates with the lunar cycles. Or maybe it’s my propensity for relying on my imagination to improve on everyday life.

Whatever the case, I am grateful to be able to look up at the night sky. It’s guidance, imaginary or otherwise, will continue to fuel my dreams and capture my heart. Given my friends, and referencing the arts, I know I am not alone in this.