It’s dark and I’m alone on the beach in a place that I often come to think. My dreams had been full of troubling relationship issues, replaying past hurts, mistakes, and attempts at repair. Even in the quiet dawn, it’s immensely difficult to quiet the my mind, particularly those voices that, in hindsight, can see how things could have happened differently. The remind myself that I’m only one in a relationship and I can’t alone control outcome — that it’s always jointly created by all the participants. And besides, the past is past. I’ve been involved with others that bring so much negative personal history to the relationship that it’s like swimming against a tidal wave. It’s those ones that cause me the most anxiety, always feeling that just perhaps I could say or do something that would make a grand difference. It’s those ones that find their way into my dreamscape and begged to be sorted, that wake me feeling anxious. This morning sitting here I need this time alone to be with myself, to remember my own humanity, to practise self compassion, to forgive myself for doing my best when more was required, and to forgive others for the same reasons.
The rhythms of the earth are supportive — I focus on my breath. I grow more and more appreciative of being in quiet relationship with this space. Slowly, I return to a position of knowing that my best intention and open invitation remain my most precious gifts.
The full moon is high in the sky, descending. It’s bright and round and softly illuminates the earth. There are no clouds between the moon and me. The ocean rolls in one wave at a time, slipping onto the short a few feet from where I sit to contemplate the things I’ve encountered during the past few days.
I learned yesterday that one can reset the intention of a crystal by placing it in moonlight. I wonder what it might be like if I thought of myself as a crystal sitting there in a moonbeam. The thing about moonbeams is that follow you wherever you go. This one sparkled across the waves in a loose triangle shape, its gentle point of light settling between my eyes.
Perhaps what I was doing this morning in the moonlight was renewing my invitation to allow my best to be and to accept my humanity. I’ve reset my crystal thanks to communal time with the ocean and the moon. I remember the Japanese speak of perfection of anything being in the imperfection. The crack in a bowl, worn leather, a dog-earred book.
The ocean continued to roll in as the moon slow moved toward the horizon. The sun rising on the other side of the island, blocked from view by Haleakala, gently warmed the sky. No shadows as whole vista, the ocean, sand, and sky transformed into pale shades of green, blue and grey. As the moon approached the water it grew bigger and became pink. Then it disappeared.