Its 3:30am, I’m awake – again. Not half awake, but alert and ready to jump out of bed as if the sun were streaming in through the windows. But it wasn’t the sun, it was the moon. It was so bright; I had to adjust how I was lying to avoid the light across my face. I should have gotten up to close the blinds, but I just laid there. I felt that if I moved too much, I would ruin something and never be able to fall back asleep again. That could be the beginning of a dreadfully long day. I couldn’t stop staring at the moon; just a ridiculous reflection that held no warmth and no value for energy, but I was still drawn to it. I tried turning away from it, looking at the way it lit up the bedroom. I watched the shadows of the trees move slowly across the walls as the moon made its’ gradual descent, grateful that it was finally letting me go, but still not wanting it to leave, knowing that in its absence, the sun would come too soon now. I wanted to get up and trace the trees on the wall with my sketching charcoal. That might get me a cute white jacket that lets you hug yourself…I better stay put. I watched as the color of the full moon changed to a dull yellow from its initial intensity and I wondered why it pulled at me. I wondered why it woke me at this ungodly hour and I wondered how the tides developed this relationship with the moon, the ebb and flow, the gentle back and forth, a constant give and take, never a static moment. Static. Static really doesn’t exist in nature does it? There really is no such thing as perfect balance; we are alwaysmoving either towards or away from something. Even in indecision, you move away. In every moment there is a risk ofallowing ourselves to be pulled too far in one direction or the other, to the familiarity of dysfunction or to the tragedy of indifference. This uncomfortable effort to pull ourselves out of a dark moment or an unhealthy escape must be how it feels to evolve.
It is in these dark moments with our own thoughts that we can choose to see the beauty of the rest of our lives or dwell on the misery of our past. Each second, each moment, is anopportunity to try again. You really are the energy of unlimited possibility.