The Healing Power of the Moon

Ring the bells that still can ring 

Forget your perfect offering 

There is a crack in everything 

That's how the light gets in. 

- Leonard Cohen

I'm not sure I can really describe this experience.

So tonight, we prepared to go outside to do our usual ritual. We being the dogs and J and I. We're outside, and I realize suddenly, once we are out of the shadow of our house, that the moon is actually illuminating our yard.

I decide to forgo the flashlight I had brought.

I struggled to read the text of my ritual. This made time for every word to feel intentional, and for me to feel the weight of each sound in my mouth. I could trace the lines between the moonlit page, my eyes, the neurons in my brain, the sound in my throat, and the way my tongue felt as it moved around my mouth.

Time slowed.

For a blessed moment, I felt still.

At points, the reflection of the moon on my laminated page would catch my eye the right way, and it was blinding, for a brief but brilliant moment.

I looked away from my page to give offerings, and I noticed my littlest canine companion quietly enjoying the coolness of the dewy grass, his eyes glinting in the soft moonlight. He looked peaceful and at home; he looked like he was in his element.

In what has been a tumultuous and chaotic time for all of us, I felt the door creak open just a little bit wider. A little more room for some light to get through. The moon illuminated the potential for us to have a healthy, happy, peaceful existence full of joy and refreshing moments of cool grass under our furry feet.

When you have endured such mind altering pain that more often than not you wished that your life had ended long ago, and the possibility of improvement seems like something you neither deserve nor reasonably ever expect, moments like this are rare. More than rare. Legendary. Elusive. They take on that fairy tale quality of something having occurred long ago and far away.

Seeing my little dog, my little kindred spirit, being calm and meditative in his own yard, brought tears to my eyes. Under the giant lunar goddess, with a cool breeze at our backs, I dared to dream that this might be my turning point.

Could it be that all of the cracks I've endured at the hands of an illness plagued existence have finally let in some light?

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