I started off this morning writing about this other topic. I got almost done and decided I really didn’t want to talk about that today. Too negative and I am feeling down anyway. So I just stopped, once upon a time I wouldn’t have been able to do that. I would have compulsively had to complete what I was doing. Today, it is more important to honor my own feelings, than to complete something. And I didn’t like what I was writing. I didn’t like the subject and I didn’t like where the writing was taking me. So I stopped.
I may publish that one some other time. Today, today I need to engage on a positive note...
Last night was a hard night for my kid. She is still suffering from her bee sting, clearly allergic now, and her face still swollen and puffy and uncomfortable. She is a teen so the vanity portion is hard also, although I give her credit, she isn’t overly concerned about that.
She is having drama in her life and some trauma. And she was suffering last night. And she wanted me to fix it, which of course, I couldn’t. I wanted to. But I lack the power. But I could be there for her. And the universe changed my evening plans earlier in the day so I was all clear. And I would cancel plans, for her, any time...but don't tell her that!
We ate Boccali’s strawberry shortcake for dinner, ate it at the Ojai sign overlooking the entire Ojai Valley as a warm, summer sun set in the West. Then we got massages, ninety minutes of bliss where we could both escape the hurtful thoughts that were pinging around in our heads and sink us into our bodies where it was quieter and safer.
We got home late, tired and spent from an evening where we filled our bellies, bodies and souls all at one time, while mostly checking out and away from the mind for a little while. It was lovely. She is lovely. I am so grateful to have her as my daughter. She is funny, kind, smart and so beautiful. She is walking that line so carefully between cynicism and faith. I am not sure where she is going to land. I am just trying to keep the door open for her, allow her all of her feelings, and just be close enough to keep reminding her that feelings, no matter how strong or real feeling, are not facts. They are feelings, and if we can have one, we can have another. And so we do...
It was a lovely night filled with frivolity, laughter, and some solemness. It was perfect. Just the right amount of happy, juxapositioned with the sadness and heartbreak that we both are walking through.
We also timed it just right to witness the almost full moon, creeping over the mountains and providing us a full view of all its spectacularness. It was a moment. And we were there, oohing and ahhing over it. Just us, sitting in my car, talking, and then we turned a corner and there is was. The Buck Moon rising.
So we did the only thing there is to do when you come upon an almost full moon, rising in a night time summer sky, we marveled, we wondered, and we delighted. A few moments of our lives given to that rising moon, an human offering to a celestial being. A communion, if you will, between spirits.
I left the entire evening feeling peaceful and a step closer to sacredness. I can’t explain why or how, I just know that as the moon rises nightly in the sky, every moment I observe it, I am made wholer somehow. And so it was with the rising of the almost sated Buck Supermoon. We were there with all our human frailties, and we were provided a little solace, a little hope and some accountability for all that we endure...if only for a moment as the moon seeped over the mountains, rounding itself into full view.