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Photo Credit: Marvin Mayer, Unsplashed

I am completely enchanted and, it’s safe to say, undone by the moon.

If I or any of my friends are behaving a tad crazily, sensitive or teary, or extra energetic and delighted, it’s the moon, new or full, who gets the blame.

We point our fingers in contempt or otherwise clasp our hands or tilt our faces upwards in gratitude and feel blessed by its bright beams. We trust the moon to be true. We light a fire and burn the sage.

For years I’ve done this. Fallen into the sway of the moonlight, and aligning my mood with the moon’s phases. Drawn to its rippling reflection on water. Captivated by the change of light as it arcs across the sky every evening.

And until tonight, I did not much acknowledge the dark side of the moon. Pink Floyd would have hung their head in disappointment.

I never considered the parts of the moon I couldn’t see.

But tonight, I was told a story about the moon, its eclipses, and our connection to the parts of the moon when it’s cloaked in shadow.

Every night, the moon enters a different phase, where we can only see the part of the moon that’s alight, because of our position on the Earth. This happens when there’s a lunar eclipse too. The moon is hidden in shadow because the Earth has turned and cut off the sun.

But the moon in its entirety is always there. Even the parts where the light isn’t bright, the moon is still full, intact, and waiting for the right time to shine.

And . . .(here it comes) . . . . such is life.

Really. Those who are a part of us, a part of our circle, aren’t always visible to us all of the time. But they are always there.

The moon, its light and dark, encircles and reflects all that we are. The consistently changing phases of the moon remind us of something very important: that we have once been in the light of something different, and that we will be in new light again soon. The part of the moon we can’t see holds our loved ones from the past, the loved ones with us now, but who may be out of our line of sight for a bit. Perhaps even loved ones we’ve yet to meet.

The dark part of the moon also holds aspects of our lives we are still striving to achieve or create. Or the beating parts we don’t want to forget about. The victories and lessons of the past, the tasks and relationships ghosting in and out of our present. The ideals we are leaning towards in the future.

We can’t always see them, but these tide-turning pieces of ourselves are there all along. They create the fullness of our bright, shining moon — always there, only sometimes hidden in shadow for a bit.

We just have to trust and wait for the shine.

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