Yesterday, the moon quietly passed between the sun and the earth. Here in my little corner of the world, it was cloudy with drizzling rain most of the day. The moon shadow, which occurred midday, came and went unnoticed, obscured by the clouds.
I had planned to attend an annual meeting for the homeowners association that governs a small lot we purchased a couple of years ago. I’ve been to two of these meetings before. This year, the meeting promised to go as all the others, with lots of discord between property owners. There was even a security guard hired to help keep the peace. But instead of sitting in a room full of emotionally charged people speaking harsh and angry words to one another, I decided to show up at a different kind of meeting, a heavenly kind. This annual meeting involved the sun, moon, and earth. It didn’t matter that it was cloudy. I didn’t need to see to believe. I wanted to feel my way through this meeting.
Years ago, during the solar eclipse that occurred in August of 2017, my husband and I were playing a gig at Blue Sky Winery in Illinois. The location was identified as NASA's point of longest duration for viewing the eclipse. As the shadow of the moon gradually stretched over the land, a hush fell over the crowd. For those fleeting minutes, the unity between mankind felt so strong, as we observed our smallness in the great shadow of this celestial event. Even the birds stopped singing. And in the darkness of the shadow, for a few precious moments, the world was at peace.
Yesterday, as I took time out to acknowledge what was happening above the clouds, I felt a very similar sense of peace. That’s how I know it’s possible. In the shadow of something much bigger than our differences, there is unity.
Even amidst all the ugliness in the world, the sky allows me to see a bigger picture. A couple of weeks ago, I was lying back in a lounge chair watching the clouds when I noticed what appeared to be a group of birds circling high above. As I looked closer, I realized they were butterflies. I suppose they were gathering to set off on their journey south. There’s so much beauty, inspiration, and awe available at any moment. All I have to do is look up.
In the shadow of something much bigger than our differences, there is unity.
Stars make an appearance in many of the songs I write, along with the sun and moon. There’s something about staring up into a starry night that’s mesmerizing and invites my mind to wander and contemplate the meaning of life. One of my favorite lyrics is in the song Moon Chasing the Sun, written by Kim Richey.
I sat outside one afternoon in an old lawn chair. And I watched the sun set off for business else somewhere. Then the sky turned watercolor pink, and gold, and blue. The stars all showed up one by one and they waited on the moon. I thought about you and I wondered why…
My neck reminds me daily that it’s tired of looking down all the time— checking my phone, looking at the frets of my guitar, or noticing the leaves I tracked in on the carpet. One thing I know is that looking up does more than stretch the tight muscles in my neck, it allows me a moment of stillness because I really can’t do much of anything else but simply stand in awe.
Well said. I will try to do more of that!!!