Echoes of the Full Moon...

Friday morning, 12:32...the moon is full tonight. I just finished reading "The Mermaid Chair," by Sue Monk Kidd. It's full of mystery, full moons, mermaids, mythologies, self-destruction and resolution. I wish I could get into my head and pull out my emotions as well as Ms. Kidd does and so eloquently knit them together into a beautiful story that people could relate to and admire. But my feelings are so fragmented, frayed and elusive...I don't understand them myself.

Why does the moon press upon me at times, oppressing me and depressing me, and at other times, smile down upon me as a benevolent friend? Tonight, it is a beautiful, clear, beatific moon but I take no pleasure in it.

On the beach in Honolulu, watching the moon laughing down at the water and rippling out on it's waves, crossing the shoreline to my heart as I leaned against a palm tree, listening to soft Hawaiian music, as tears softly slid down my cheeks, I knew that that time and space would be forever within me. It was a pleasure that was unexplainable but wrapped itself within my very being and would remain in my memory until it ceases to be.

When I go into the place I try so hard to avoid, I often go back in time to that space in time and again find myself there, with the moon reaching inside me and it makes the dark place lighter.