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The Full Moon of Cold Shoulders
Saturday, March 1st, 2008 09:00 pm(written Feb 21 while off-line)
"Notice what is happening in your world. Go outside and notice the air around you."
And so I do.
Out on deck the East wind blows the clouds away, baring the moon's face at Mid Night. The wind, flying over the long fetch, boils the harbor around us, rocking the dinghy against the mothership in a danceable rhythm. I write by moonlight, sitting in my underwear on a coil of rope between 1 and 2 ayem. My page is bright, my pen's track clear and clean. The 3/4" nylon rope is warm against my thighs and back, from the sun hours gone. Only my shoulders are cold in the wind.
"Can you imagine living your days based on the phases of the moon? Planning your actions by your ability to harvest the light ...?"
Yep. Living on a sailboat, that's how it is for me. Planning passages based on sailing by moonlight ... the stars are brighter and more amazing without the moon in the sky, but the sea is very dark and it's hard to see obstacles or wave trains without the moon.
"Explore the following questions by pulling a card ..."
"How do you express your individuality?"
I draw the Death Card, and here is my answer: I express my individuality by ruthlessly pruning my life of what does not serve, by working with people who are dying and facing my own aging / dying process, by embracing change, by knowing when to walk away.
"What are the qualities of freedom that have made their mark upon your soul?"
I draw the Queen of Cups, Virginal. The ice queen stands in the doorway of her frozen heart, facing the lonely cup of self-reliance and withdrawal. Is this how I find my freedom, in turning away? Well, yes, sometimes. Hmm.
"Notice what is happening in your world. Go outside and notice the air around you."
And so I do.
Out on deck the East wind blows the clouds away, baring the moon's face at Mid Night. The wind, flying over the long fetch, boils the harbor around us, rocking the dinghy against the mothership in a danceable rhythm. I write by moonlight, sitting in my underwear on a coil of rope between 1 and 2 ayem. My page is bright, my pen's track clear and clean. The 3/4" nylon rope is warm against my thighs and back, from the sun hours gone. Only my shoulders are cold in the wind.
"Can you imagine living your days based on the phases of the moon? Planning your actions by your ability to harvest the light ...?"
Yep. Living on a sailboat, that's how it is for me. Planning passages based on sailing by moonlight ... the stars are brighter and more amazing without the moon in the sky, but the sea is very dark and it's hard to see obstacles or wave trains without the moon.
"Explore the following questions by pulling a card ..."
"How do you express your individuality?"
I draw the Death Card, and here is my answer: I express my individuality by ruthlessly pruning my life of what does not serve, by working with people who are dying and facing my own aging / dying process, by embracing change, by knowing when to walk away.
"What are the qualities of freedom that have made their mark upon your soul?"
I draw the Queen of Cups, Virginal. The ice queen stands in the doorway of her frozen heart, facing the lonely cup of self-reliance and withdrawal. Is this how I find my freedom, in turning away? Well, yes, sometimes. Hmm.