May 07, 2012
Anomolies of the Supermoon
I'm not sure if I've ever admitted this publicly, but I always get a little crazy during a full moon. A boyfriend in college first pointed it out to me when I cried twice, once with joy and once with sorrow in the course of probably 25 minutes. It was a lovely, cool, clear night in San Francisco, and the moonlight gave everything a touch of silver. We were just walking around the block again and again. When I apologized, he said: "It's ok. You're always a little crazy during the full moon."
And he was right. There are those days - we all get them - when I'm totally depressed and in a funk and had no good reason at all. As evening comes, I force myself to go for a walk, or meet friends for a drink even though talking to people was the last thing in the world that I want to do. And there, inevitably, that crazy full moon is staring down at me, laughing. It generally makes me feel better to think of the moon as laughing at me and my silliness. Because it is also so beautiful, and makes the entire world look, as it did that night in college, touched with silver.
It was then with trepidation and excitement that I waited for the coming of the Supermoon. And "supermoon" became the catchphrase for the weekend. If anything went wrong (and plenty of silly things did, and some big things, too) we blamed the supermoon. On the whole, however, the weekend was full of real joy and blessings, and I found myself wondering how I got to be so very lucky.
By making light of our pains and sorrows, they recede. The world really is touched with silver. Thanks, supermoon.
Image: Print by Yellow Button Studio