When on the night of the full moon you come full circle in your appreciation for your body — despite a frozen neck and shoulder, no internet for twenty-two hours, and rainy December-weather in early June, or because of it all — it’s worth noticing the pattern of structural death and resurrection.
From the coarseness of the unwelcome to the microscopic building blocks of pleasure, life’s this grand wild blink ever open to expansion. So when you’re reminded to appreciate the nimble, supple nature of your body; when you see the joy of movement in technicolor and feel the dance of life in your marrow; when the tension of the now propels you into a more relaxed future now, now, then it’s time to invite in the inevitable.
Stillness to regroup.
Being by yourself and with yourself. Not being able to turn to the right, comfortably at least. Picturing the pirouette in full swing. Limited in range of motion. Opening up lotus-style. Buried under pulsating pain. Feeling life force pulsing, ready to push through.
Contrast amplifies choice. We can choose to wither, die. We can choose to resurrect, thrive. Make your move in the light of the lunar stage, and know that the love for yourself inspires the universe.