Funny that you talk about the full moon. I was walking the dog down the street last night. There are patches of wild woods and leaves in some people’s yards that I’ll let him sniff around in — that’s a euphemism for pee and poop. Oops, ok, that confession is out — when it’s dark. There are no street lights where I live, so what I mean by dark is absolute pitch black.
Last night I thought someone turned on their outside light to see what we were doing, and I whipped around, ready to yank Pup unceremoniously back onto the street and pretend innocence, only to discover that it was the moon.
I love where I live. On dark nights, stars fill the skies. On full moon nights, the “eye” watches over the world. There is so much that goes on up there, isn’t there? It’s amazing that we have such utter mystery right over our heads.
You know what I would absolutely LOVE to do? I’d love to find a group of crazies (like me), and establish a full moon ritual. Every full moon we sneak into the woods, maybe smoke a little reefer, maybe dance naked —even me with my torso all twisted from my bilateral mastectomies and hysterectomy, shamelessly dancing without a care in the world — philosophize, maybe write or share some creative writing, maybe play Daily Prompt sorts of games, share brightly colored pieces of cloth and wrap ourselves in them, Greek-style — just be like silly kids playing house, being free and creative.
I don’t want new friends invading my daily routine; but once a month, on the full moon, I think it would be a blast to put all of my introversion and privacy aside and go completely nuts celebrating the connection of lives and reminding myself that I’m not too old to be a child again, frolicking with friends!
When the full moon happens, you turn into a person who’s the opposite of who you normally are. Describe this new you.
The Full Moon