I was born on June 26th. Astrologically, this makes me a Cancer: a moonchild, as it were. It will come as no shock to those who know me best to hear that I delight in taking a moment to look up and stare in awe at the beauty and radiance of the moon. I have always been a stargazer - looking past the limits which society has contrained unto me and thinking about what could be.
Growing up, the moon gave me great comfort to be able to look up and know that despite our differences, the Moon was always there - gently watching over us. It was a commonality that gave me pause because, not only did I contemplate the longitudinal spectrum of this world, but I was able to grasp momentarily a new perspective in my life. The full moon was always the same: in Nebraska, in New York, in Thailand, in Paris. It brought a unity in space and time and perhaps gave me time to contemplate infinity. And in moments of great desperation, my thoughts tend to float to the moon - at how tiny my problems are to it - how insignificant the trifles of my life are to the moon. The moon cares not for my complaints, for my whining, for my despair. The moon will just gaze back at me, radiant and calm, inviting me to be the same.
A full moon brought me an occasion to stop and reflect on all of the past full moons I have ever seen. I am always roughly in the same position: standing, craning my neck upwards with a goofy grin on my face pondering the transient nature of our lives and the evanescent quality of our moments. With this seemingly morose viewpoint, it would be easy to become panicked and anxious about the time slipping through our fingers, but for me - this has always been a beautiful reminder of how precious our time is - how extraordinarily wonderful we can make each moment if we see that it is fleeting.
I began to sort of view my life in phases of the moon. I started to sense that, like spring and fall, I found waxing and waning moons to be of great beauty. I noted that, like winter, my energy took a dip when there was a new moon. And, like summer - the time of my birth - a full moon meant an indescribable strength and ease and a knowing that can not be explained. I seek not to comprehend why all of this is, because for me to dissect the profound experiences that come about on a full moon would be to resist them. I appreciate and allow the experiences to happen and for this to be a time of celebration, reflection, wisdom, and love.
It is on this full moon, on September the 12th, 2011 - a day synonymous in my heart with the notion that the sun rises even amid the darkest night - that I commit myself to more forwardly celebrating the full moon. I believe this will manifest in different ways (and it is a goal of mine to experience a Full Moon party in Thailand) and I will certainly not enumerate the specific ways I will act in the future, but I will from now on take this occasion - this pause that always draws my attention upward and inward - to focus on how precious life is and how much beauty there is in this world.
Some 200 years ago, the leaders of our new nation decided to rebuke one of the largest and most powerful Empires in the world and declared independence. If you take a few minutes to actually read the Declaration of Independence, you will see that while the document lays the foundation for the values and ideals inherant in our national mythos, it is also a document airing grievances against King George.
"...and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government."
a set of principles or procedures according to which something is done; an organized scheme or method
I declare independence from ideas of scarcity and limits (think "The limit does not exist" from Mean Girls).
I declare independence from expectation to act a certain way, feel a certain emotion, think a particular idea, and compromise in order to ingratiate myself into other's expectations of me.
Finally, I declare independence from fear. I instead choose to love.
What do you want to declare independence from today?