Saplings


December 22, 2010

The Real Journey

       Solstice, a full moon, and a total lunar eclipse: Wow! These are events that won’t converge again for another 400 years. Not to mention closing the first decade of this century and commencing another. Forget what the calendar says, the real new year starts when the northern hemisphere ceases its descent into darkness and turns once more toward the sunlight of another spring.


       But my face was buried in work. There are taxes and spreadsheets. Tom turns sixty-five and the dreaded choice of Medicare options is looming. Then there’s our documentary. Somehow when you Google this site you come up with corporations who grab my name for their profit. Not to mention working on the family trust. Oh, yes, and lots of work at the hospital. Who has energy to stay awake for an eclipse? Seen one, you’ve seen ‘em all. It is so easy to lose track of our Real Journey.


       I was about to tumble into bed last night when Lucas called. He was standing outside his apartment in Everett and wanted to share the eclipse. Although he peered through scudding clouds, he stood in the cold talking with us for most of that hour. Tom and I hunkered on the carpet in our loft, gazing up through large windows. Outside, the temperature hovered at nine degrees and moonlight sparkled off the drifted snow. Up the hill, Christmas lights twinkled through spruce trees. The sky was velvet pricked with diamonds.


       At first the moon had an ominous bite nibbled from the bottom. You could see by the encroaching shadow that Earth is a much larger sphere. Gradually, the darkness spread until our familiar Moon glowed three dimensionally under a dazzling brow of white light. Finally, she hung pearly and huge in the starry blackness, poised as if to plunge into the icy bay. I could see, really SEE, the Moon as global—a planet suspended in the vastness of space, frigid and lovely drifter that trails around our beloved oasis. How do I ever take that for granted? Ever. Wow!


       And so today, I am back at my Lists, but I am keeping an eye out the window. The low-hanging sun dapples snowdrifts with blue shadows and sparks of light. And I smile, remembering the Real Journey—“ trailing clouds of glory,” as Wordsworth once said—that we are each embarked on.


Wishing you Enthusiasm, Love and Joy


Jeanie





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