In my footloose and fancy-free days, I called many places home. One of my favorites was a rural housing complex of small cottages and four-plexes formerly used for migrant workers. On full moon nights, the ladies would gather libations, tromp up the hill, and dance.
Now I’m in the outer suburban flatlands and my friends are far-flung but the silver orb still beckons. Even if I’ve retired for the evening, when the moonlight reaches my bedroom window I can’t help but rise up and greet it.
In a previous post about The Moon in Tarot decks, I mentioned how it can represent obstacles. But it can also bring inspiration.
Perhaps that’s why I was up last night, before the moon was truly full. I’ve had a case of the blahs these past few days. Maybe it’s just the rain and wind and pollen keeping me inside. Whatever the cause, I found some comfort sitting in my patio room, letting the moonbeams bathe me.
Which makes me wonder. Webster’s Dictionary defines lunacy as “intermittent insanity once believed to be related to the phases of the moon.”
Hmmm. Well, you know what Aristotle said: all writers are a little crazy.