Devon from the Teacher Training invited me over for Thanksgiving dinner. It was a small gathering, 8 people around the table, mostly Devon’s local close friends and loved ones, only Derek (Caroline’s friend) and I relative strangers.
As we dine, the sun sets, we eat by candlelight.
After the dinner, the circle dissipates, some diners move away from the table, into the corners or out of the room. Derek and I remain at the table, across each other on the long diagonal and discover we both moved up here from the East Coast about 3 years ago (he from New York). Moved, because it was the time to move, to a new job, barely knowing anyone here. We reminisce about the first days, “now what?” Derek tells me how he got on the support crew for a week long AIDS/Life Cycle bike ride from San Francisco to LA, as a massage therapist. The girls on the massage team accepted him into their midst and they became his “weird family” here. I tell him about my weird families, tango and toastmasters (link to an old post titled, partially, “Weird Families” 🙂 ).
The moon rises. We can see it in a large window. Tim remarks, “it’s 92% full tonight”. Derek says, “it was the Mourning Moon yesterday.” “M-o-u-r” – “mourning”? ask Dan. “Yes, the last full moon before the Winter Solstice. Time to reflect and to let go.”
The night before I went to a Yin and Inner Yoga class. On the way there, with the Mourning Moon rising on my right, I reflected on the practice that recently presented itself, awakening the old patterns, the patterns that grip just a bit less than they used to – maybe. I decided that whatever may transpire, for now, I am in it to love and to speak the truth, Anahata, Visshudha. I returned home from the class, with the Mourning Moon rising on my left, at peace.
“Time to reflect and to let go,” Derek says. “I totally did some of that!” I exclaim excitedly. He smiles: “I did too.” We look at each other for a few seconds, a glimpse of recognition.
Time to go home.
More often than not I ride these quiet quirky streets basking in the late morning sunlight. Now I ride East on Cabrillo, the post-Mourning Moon, still about 92% full, is rising directly in front of me, which is also quite wonderful.