The moon has been a prominent conversation piece lately. It’s huge and bright and fully round. It casts a beam that illuminates the night (very useful for harvesting hence the name). It’s romantic and spooky and mesmerizing all at the same time. I like to think that no matter where you are on the planet, the moon is the same. We all see the same wonderful glowing orb.
Except for my neighbour. He’s going blind. He’s in his 50’s and starting losing his vision about 10 years ago. I can’t imagine the emotions that come with that life sentence. Anger? Sadness? So I stood on our deck last night and while ogling the moon thought of how I would describe it to my neighbour. I realized that words were inadequate. Some things are just visual.
Earlier in the evening we attended a community meeting. There was a guest speaker talking about his NGO. An education based group helping the marginalized both here and abroad. He talked about youth at risk and homeless in our community. It’s hard to believe that in a place of so much wealth and abundance that there’s a hidden underbelly of despair.
I think about the ironies of life: a harvest moon that shines spectacularly evoking positive emotions for some and for others dread and fear. Are we really our brothers keeper? And to what extent?
As we went to bed last night Rudy mentioned that our blind neighbour and his housemate were sitting on the back deck. Watching the moon. Playing music. It occurred to me that perhaps the housemate was describing the moon and then realized it was the music which was likely helping him remember what the moon looked like.
I’m realizing a lot more these days. Reflections of life choices and how fortunate I’ve been. But I never considered losing one of my senses and what fate or Mother Nature intervention can be. Gratitude is the new emotion in my life. It has replaced stress and hurrying and anxiety. I don’t think I paused regularly to ponder the moon. Payroll maybe.