Luna - the Moon
She is gazing and the water is glistening. In the distance, waves are making their contribution to the moment, singing. The early mornings hold a magic that can be tapped only if one is lucky to be able to rise before the rest of the world. Sometimes it is at 3 a.m. and other times, it's 5 a.m. Each hour holds its own subtle message.
When the full moon arrives, and if the skies are clear, the light that allows itself to be shared in the stillness makes manifest the word "peace.". In this space, it is possible to enter through a portal to the possibilities - the ideas and insights await; sometimes there is nothing, just the great silence. La Luna inspires and provides the lighting in a way that the morning sun cannot. It is a different kind of shine that comes and it is only possible to experience in the part of the day when very few others have roused from sleep.
The feeling today is quiet and still. To capture in some way, the feeling of gratitude for this morning, arrives.
Yesterday was raukus, starting at 5:30 a.m., moving right into a meet up to deliver zafus to a friend seeking a way to comfort her 96 year old mother who keeps slipping out of her favorite chair. An hour later, a meeting with a photographer who wanted to capture images of me by the sea for a book that contains interviews about Korean American identity. An hour after that, a drive cut short in mid- transit to a residential home for Alzheimer patients (felt like the Tao's energy was diverting the visit because there has been debate about placement). An hour and a half later - a last minute Zoom call to clean up the new GoCompassion website and to learn a few steps to modify the pages. Finishing the call, a drive into downtown to visit a bookstore in Koreatown to buy a new book of photographs about Korean American identity and culture. Then, a haircut with an interesting young KA man who I had never met before - the appointment for a cut was inspired by an accidental encounter. During the appointment – a comment, "You know that one side of your head is cooperative and the other is very stubborn". (chuckle). The reply, "That is my personality so I guess it shows up in hair. One day, I'll shave my head."
There was more to do before the day's end.
A late afternoon drive across Skid Row and wondering about how the new mayor will help people whose lives have been so distressed that living on the streets is their only option. And it's not just a few people - it is literally tens of thousands who find themselves living in tents, cars, shelters made of boxes and pieces of furniture - creating an architecture that is uniquely this neighborhood. (The moon shines down after being hidden by the clouds in the dark sky, just at the moment that these words are written.). Maybe something will emerge as a meaningful response to the needs of the unhoused.
The moonlight, surrounded by clouds and glowing as she does whenever she makes her cycle back to this phase, inspires. The moon. La Luna. 달 (dal, Korean).
When she's full - she brings the source of light that shows something that sunlight cannot show. Her glow puts into perspective all of the things that during the day, are done without much thought. It is her power to bring one into reflection, to quiet, to the ability to access that which cannot be accessed when the sun is out. And - she teaches patience. Unlike the sun, the moonlight doesn't show up every twenty-four hours; no. The light arrives only once in about 30 days. So one must wait to experience what she may reveal. If lucky enough to be in a place where her arrival is not eclipsed by cloud cover, a gift that is offered only a dozen times in a calendar year will be delivered.
Luna also teaches that the way to understanding life can be shaped by the light that reveals the conditions. The light she brings is not like the light of the sun. And what appears from her light has a quality of being ethereal, yet in a way that suggests something not yet in existence, could become real. It is when one has the chance to sit with a full moon and open to the moment, that answers to some of the most complicated conditions might be transmitted. It is in the moment of silence, no words, just the light of the full moon.
On this day: Aha! An answer to a question held emerges - it won't be shared until the sun rises, but it is a way to unwind a sticky situation and it is worth a try to share it - later.
What might be revealed the next time she visits?