Full Moon

Last night I came out of work and saw a gibbous moon, not quite full, but close enough to inscribe a clean circle in the dark blue evening sky. I was alone for the moment. Most of the campus had closed down, and that particular stillness that comes over the mesa at sunset surrounded me. I saw one raven, but even he was still. My footsteps sounded loud as I walked to the car, watching the moon the whole way. I snapped a few pix, and then posted them to Facebook.

Out the back door and

Into a still, bright gloaming.

At last, the weekend.

Because I had no plans, I turned left out of the campus drive and drove to the end of the road to watch the sun set. It was not the most spectacular sunset, but it was a beautiful evening. I watched the colors change to the west and the moon brighten to the east. I thought of the Ansel Adams photograph of the moonrise in Hernandez, NM. I was watching the Taos version, and the sense of isolation, clarity, and beauty was very similar. Of course, I couldn't capture it: I'm not Ansel Adams, and all I had was a cell phone.

Moonrise over Taos

 

 

As I drove back to highway, I thought of how I keep refusing to live in the moment.  I go through the motions, but the spirit and connection are equally tenuous.  I wanted to share this moonrise with someone other than the people on Facebook, but what I really wanted was to be able to revel in the freedom to create this moment.  I hadn't needed to coordinate with anyone, I was able to follow my spur of the moment whim, with only my own feelings to consult.  And yet....I wanted to share this with someone.  And there was no one.

 

Today I am home with an increasingly bad cold.  I remember last year, when I was sick for 3 months and finally wound up with pneumonia.  I was whining about wanting to retire, and my brother said there was no proof that Taos and the job were making me sick.  A year later, here I am, again doing nothing but working, sleeping and coughing.  And yet, I'm now not sure that retirement is the answer.  My sister wrote last month about the difficulty of being retired:  she feels unproductive.  My response:

I hate being back at work, but I don't have anything better to do. Just read an article about finding your passion: it basically said, quit your bitching. You already have found your passion, you're just ignoring it. However you spend your time, that's your passion. Rather reminiscent of the Swedenborg philosophy: God is not hiding, he is very obvious, he's just waiting for you to pay attention.

If that is so, my passion must be listening to Judge Judy and playing online Sudoku. Or making fudge. ;)

 

Or, in today's case, making brownies.

When I'm sick, I bake
Things I should not eat, such as
Bacon grease brownies.

I should go out and watch the full moon, but I think I'm going to live in this moment:  eat some brownies, drink some tea, and go to bed.