Dreadful news has been the theme this autumn 2017. We are saturated each week with accounts of some new disaster. It is depressing to even list them. One of my twelve year old students told me that the world must be coming to an end. What a horrible thing for a child to try and grasp. And even for us adults, we wonder, how could these events ever be about something good, something transformative, something that engenders hope.
So, as I look optimistically in all of this darkness, I am recalling my thoughts on the amazing solar eclipse that we experienced just weeks ago. With our eyes to the sky, millions watched as the magic took us--as a nation, into its mystery--- looking for far more than a solar eclipse. I wonder if we are desperate to have an encounter with the divine, the author of hope, to find the place where science and spirituality meet. And that is the challenge today to live with hope, rather than despair.
It was a ninety degree day here in Cincinnati as we experienced our 2017 solar eclipse. Some schools closed so that children throughout the United States could view it safely with their parents. Others traveled hundreds of miles to witness the “total” eclipse, waited in long lines of traffic, purchased safety glasses and even wore welder’s masks. I witnessed the event at a public library where I could borrow cardboard glasses with safety lenses. A quick glimpse of a black dot was enough for me. We did not experience a dramatic black out at the library. But I loved the sharing of glasses, the friendly banter, the sense of community, the diversity of neighbors who never met one another before gathering for this unusual event.
What was happening outside in my garden, I wondered as I drove home. From the white rocking chair on the north side of the house, I could view what was truly fascinating to me, a mystical quality to the light.
The vibrant crescent of sun, mostly hidden by the moon, spilled out like the gold in Gustav Klimt’s paintings. It glimmered as if it were light on water. The garden, lit up from within while a cool protective veil sat over the top of it, became stained glass. The scene beckoned inner reflection and awe, as if someone was stepping from the outdoors into the coolness of an ancient church. The birds were still singing, the crickets still chirping, the butterflies were flitting from from flower to flower, seemingly unaffected. Excited neighbors were outdoors with their dark glasses. “Do you want to see this?” I could hear someone say. An airplane flew over ahead. But the magical quality of air and light were simply stunning. The garden had become art. The shade was darker. The light was brighter, and I discovered this phenomenon called “shadow bands”. It was also strangely dark in my own house, while oddly lit outside.
As light and dark melded, this metaphor seemed so lovely. The masculine sun energy was softened by the moon’s maternal silky shadows. She has no light of her own, but is reliant upon the sun's light to reflect or mirror her image. Where the sun boldly shines, the moon’s light is subtle, offers clarity and reflection. This lovely feminine moon, draped in a veil was meeting her husband, the sun, as folklore and ancient tradition implies. Perhaps the new way to live in 2017: the marriage of light and darkness, the feminine and masculine, the questions that seem to have no easy answers. The falling temperatures almost made the air smell sweet and light, as if it has been newly bathed. It is somehow sensual, even sexual. A long kiss, an embrace, a magical moment that won’t come again for another 350 years. It seemed to beg these questions. Can darkness live in peace with light? Can our own inner shadows meld with the Light within each of us? Does this wondrous event carry a message of hope?
Keep your eyes on the sky, and your inward eyes open too, as our symbolically feminine moon offers a rare October Harvest Moon (they usually occur in September). This moon only has appeared and will appear 18 times between 1970 and 2050, and it happens this evening! In North America, a Harvest Moon (a yearly event) refers to the first full moon nearest the autumnal equinox which was September 22. The moon rises a little earlier than usual-- more light for farmers to harvest. And the moon will rise nearer to sunset and appear full for several days in a row -- making it seem as if there is more than one full moon. Perhaps that is exactly what we need right now.
"The moon does not fight. It attacks no one. It does not worry. It does not try to crush others. It keeps to its course, but by its very nature, it gently influences. What other body could pull an entire ocean from shore to shore? The moon is faithful to its nature and its power is never diminished."
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