As I walked around the pool tonight, circling again and again, I saw the moon's reflection. It's the same moon, always-but it looks so different each time I look. I hadn't seen or noticed it in weeks-not since the last time it hung in the sky above me when I barely noticed it beyond the laughter and smiles, but could feel it painting a new face. I finally got brave and looked up to stare into its face. It was a far different face than I remembered.
Feeling the need to alter my perceived truth I went to the other side of the yard where I don't usually walk. No longer able to resist, I turned to look and saw it through a nested pattern of barren twigs which will be a leafy tree again in a few months.
There is nothing that can't seem like dark in one moment, and then light in another. A beautiful ride through town can turn ugly when you see a bleeding and homeless man on the side of the road or when you find yourself suddenly driving behind the person who tossed you away.
Don't look away.
You know how each time you grieve, you find yourself hurting for ALL that you have lost? It all feels eerily, painfully familiar, creating a crescendo of pain with drums pinging and chords slaying you. But happiness has the very same effect. What if, instead of hiding in the ditches of despair, you honor the good in what happened? What if you find the love in it AGAIN? It doesn't even matter from whom the love came-the spinning ball of life is nurtured regardless of the well that watered it, or the one that it drank from.
So that little white ball that floated quietly on the pool's surface was the same one that cut me through the barren twigs. Either way it shows me the light if I just look. And it always will. Our choice, always.
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