Getting Mooned
What was your most intense experience?
Sometime this morning I was in my kitchen and I happened to look at the calendar. I was quickly reminded that Wednesday is not just the first day of Spring but it is also the day of the full moon.
How cool is that?
A few minutes after looking at the calendar a memory came volcanoing out of me. It came spewing forth through the strata of my mind. It was the memory of a full moon thirty-two and a half years ago. I hadn’t thought about that in years but since this morning I have not been able to get that memory out of my noggin.
I stepped back to the calendar and looked at it again. Was the Universe trying to tell me something? Was I trying to tell myself something? Was my muse trying to get my attention?
With that memory of that particular full moon stuck in my craw, I thought back over my entire life. I tried to think of all the most intense full moons I’ve ever experienced. There have been plenty of them — lots — but that one full moon thirty-two and a half years ago far exceeded the intensity of any other.
I was wearing scrubs. I’m not a doctor and I am not a nurse, but I had to wear the scrubs if I wanted to be in the birthing room. My beloved wife was being wheeled out for something or other. The baby had already been taken…
