listening to our ancient cosmic companion

reflection on not exploiting Moon and getting to the heart of the matter

Moon photos by anne richardson

dear sojourners,

after trimming the first two stalks of the amaryllis back, a third grew and grew and grew. far taller than the previous two. “going for a record?” no reply. finally, after three or so weeks, the quad of blooms are opening up, silently witnessing Wren, Nuthatch, Dark-eyed Juno, Anna’s Hummingbird, Crow, Robin, Song Sparrow, Spotted Towhee through the kitchen window. a february gift on the downward slope of winter. is it really a month until the equinox? i witness both blooms and birds. offer gratitude amid showers and sun.

a couple of weeks ago i read an article about “moonquakes.” wait, what? Moon has the “sort-of” equivalent of earthquakes?” my antiquated “knowledge” of Moon is of a body orbiting around Earth with zero atmosphere, influencing our tides, our moods. it was the summer before my 10th birthday when a man placed his foot on Moon’s surface. like many others i watched the historic moment, mesmerized.

neil’s boot print is still indented in the cosmic dust, waiting to be hoovered away. Moon, a “dead” cosmic body forever ring-a-round-the-rosie-ing Earth…or at least until our Sun takes a last gasp.

“dead” except for all the influence on the ancient and imaginal realms. thank you beautiful Moon for that. for your mischievous grin as Cow leaps over you. for weaving into myths and fairy tales in all your waxing-waning phases. for your impressions on ancient calendars as they navigated the seasons of harvest. for female bodies timing their fertility cycles.

for a celestial body that is so “lifeless,” you seem to be a giver of life. perhaps our current definitions of life|death are as shallow as that footprint on your surface.

in a recent article, Why scientists are starting to worry about the moon shrinking, the Washington Post reported about these Moonquakes and that over time Moon has shrunk about 150 feet in diameter. okay, it is not a dramatic shift and has actually been happening for “last few hundred million years.” but as our human species looks to “own” and “dominate” yet another place (hey, there might be “resources” up there we can extract!), scientists are delving into a deeper understanding of the phenomena. what i found interesting is that Moon has a molten core and that natural cooling is what causes the shrinking. what, they (i’ll use a gender neutral pronoun for Moon today) is not some cold, lifeless body? they is active. okay, the scientists would have a different definition of life and strenuously contradict me on this…but this shifted my perspective. Moon is a living being beyond my imagination. (see post: winter ocean|full moon : a tumultuous affair)

also consider this…as mega-billionaires look to exploit Moon and mine them for possible water and rare minerals, what if (and i know you might say i’m being silly) all the mining and exploiting actually shifted their orbit. our tides. the very being-ness of Moon. sure, the stuff of sci-fi…or is it? so much of the muddle we get ourselves into as a species is because we don’t listen deeply not just to each other, but to other beings around us.

how about we ask Moon, this billion-years companion of ours, what matters to them? the ancient beings of our planet knew how to listen to Moon. perhaps we can integrate the scientific knowledge with the imaginal and intuitive wisdom practices of old not to “mine resources” but to nourish connection between Earth and Moon. Moon may offer “resources” out of relationship and mutual regard as part of our co-existence in ways we have not considered. what do you think? what is your relationship with Moon?

Haiku

moon’s dust skin::calm mask

molten belly shakes::unsettled

“i mirror your hearts”

by anne richardson

i wonder, does Moon mirror our hearts? Luna, as Moon is called in some languages is often associated with romance. nighttime trysts. with birth and death. with Grief, which is often felt in the heart. have you heard of “broken heart syndrome?” in the dark of night, when there is a hush (well, if we can escape the bustle of our 24/7 noise,) Moon companions us through love, birth, parenting, friendship, loss, death, Grief. those still quiet moments. how often i rocked my babes in the stillness of night, yes, wishing they would go back to sleep, but also appreciating being held by shadowed moonlight. or the call outs as a hospice chaplain to be at the bedside of those taking final breaths, a window cracked open, a sliver of Moon’s breath coming in as last breaths fell out.

Moon::sacred.

when skies clear, day or night, i check to see if Moon is visible. i feel watched over when i see them (or her, as i often refer to Moon in the feminine). though i am post-menopausal, their 28-day wax|wane still deeply influences my body…an ebbing and flowing around my heart. my energy levels. maybe that’s why i feel protective when i read about plans to “harvest” resources and to “colonize” Moon. it is invasive. not done with permission. a long repeated colonial|patriarchal pattern. as the plans likely move ahead, how is this mirroring our hearts? what does this say about us?

Moon is a silent witness to the beating of my heart…a heart that genetically favors cholesterol and its companions. a family disposition toward cholesterol hoarding is what led to my father’s death when i was 26. i began getting mine checked in my late 30’s/early 40’s and while my numbers never have been the low end of “normal,” always bumping up or brimming over the upper margins of “healthy,” i’ve managed with diet, exercise, and naturopathic alternatives to “hold the line.” over two decades playing the numbers game. well, my recent numbers were up…way up. oof.

why am i sharing this bit of medical info? well that heart:grief connection. my first reaction when i got my numbers back was a mix of sadness and discouragement (and likely a call back to my father’s own twenty-four year journey with heart dis-ease.) and then i got the note from my doc requesting a follow-up virtual visit (not surprising and, fortunately i’ve had the same doc for years, so we have rapport) to “discuss statin therapy” (something i’ve been resistant to…and please, no advice)…so a bit of shame that i’ve done something to cause this big jump. and helplessness.

the next morning i had an acupuncture appointment (forever migraines) and that provider asked how i was doing. tears welled in my eyes and then trickled out and i stammered, “my cholesterol numbers are way up.” she knew. she had read my chart. and as i then i shared a review of the past year: a serious fall that had stressed my body, giving up on finding a house, needing to move from my previous abode, the stress of finding my current place (which i love…but still), the fallen trees in the january wind-ice storm, living open-heartedly (see last week’s post) and feeling the pain of the world and more. oh, stress and Grief. held in the heart. despite taking what i would say was nourishing care of myself, my heart is still sorrowing. grieving. it aches for the world. for Moon. my heart thanked me for naming this deep Grief. and perhaps naming it might help move some of the cholesterol along with a few diet tweaks. hope, eh?

and Moon, it will be full on saturday, rising as Sun is setting, setting as Sun is rising in the Pacific NW. wayward lovers glancing across horizons to glimpse the other.

what a gift from Moon this week where she waxes to fullness and i need the embrace of her comfort in the wee hours of the night while i sleep.

i close most emails with “be tender” or “be gentle with your heart.” i am offering that to my own heart. living open-hearted requires extra tenderness. extra room for birds to fly in and out. expansiveness for flowers to growgrowgrow and blossom. i wouldn’t change this way of being. mirroring back to Moon my heart.

and you? how’s your heart? aching? settled? nourished? jumping over the Moon? are you being tender to your heart? i hope so.

in gratitude,

anne

ps: i ordered this book from my local indi bookstore, Our Moon: How Earth's Celestial Companion Transformed the Planet, Guided Evolution, and Made Us Who We Are, because MOON! I read about it in this article: Dust, Desolation, and Awe: Rebecca Boyle on Would It Be Like to Return to the Moon, in LitHub.

pps: this quote by mycologist and writer Merlin Sheldrake about scientists resonates with me “scientists are—and have always been—emotional, creative, intuitive, whole human beings.” he often talks about bringing wonder and awe back into acts of inquiry. yes to wonder and awe.

open-hearted by anne richardson