The moon's light

My waking dream yesterday was about death. Death has been haunting my consciousness lately as I grieve the loss of a childhood love. If I hadn't already been in the reflective state of evaluation as I celebrate my midlife cry, I suspect this could have been a catalyst that could have driven me there.

If you have ever pictured your own funeral, as I have, you may have wondered what people would say about you. My fantastic eulogy would emote that I was caring, loving, creative, and made their worlds a little bit better. Some would even claim that I brought joy to their lives. But...at this point I have committed no monumental acts of radical change, other than in myself, nor have I offered the world anything concrete to perhaps make their lives a little easier; and for this I grieve. When I think of all of the talents I was given and how I haven't done much with them, I think about the sting in my heart when gazing at the unopened Christmas presents still sitting in the family room, unappreciated. Such a shame.

Driving home last night I noticed the cold, sharp stillness of the oh so clear night. There were only occasional cars around so I felt as if I owned the place. Racing up one particular wide-open road I felt like I was soaring. Suddenly as I crested a hill, there it was... the big, heavy, bright moon, barely hanging, just above the horizon- magnificent in its grandeur, in spite of its three-quartered status. Was it just too ripe to rise quickly?

There was a saturation of wonder, I noticed as I continued to drive that it wasn't chasing me tonight- I was following it. It would disappear behind mountains, but as I came around turns, no matter what direction I faced, there it was. Like a toddler who never tires of the clown popping up from the musical box- I was no less amazed with each recurrence of this show, as I chased that big reflective ball home.

Laying in bed, replaying the wonders of the day I found myself once again chasing the question of my death and forecasting the summation of my life. Then it hit me, like the surprise of an enormous globe in the sky, that what I should be driving toward is what will be said of me while I live.