Last night I sat with friends overlooking the ocean and watching the full moon rise.  There is something about a place where land meets water, especially a giant expanse of it like our Atlantic Ocean. To me it can feel awesome and terrifying at the same time.  In fact, I don’t know how I spent 3 months on a sailboat in 1983.  As we sat and watched the moon rise and drank icey lemon teas, we talked about the things we are ready to release in our lives from the past 28 days.  We do this each full moon.  Full moon rituals are for releasing and purging the things in our lives that no longer serve us, relinquishing suffering involved in hurtful relationships and discharging physical and emotional pains.  The act of sitting with a group of friends with the same focused intent is a powerful practice. You’re casting a powerful spell, releasing the past and beginning fresh with every 28 day cycle of the full moon.  Several in attendance are overcoming health concerns and say our meetings fuel their healing.  I can dig it.  I come away feeling fueled as well.  That’s when I can tell I’m spending time with the right people: I feel fueled by them and so excited about what’s coming next.  I came home across the Wabasso Causeway and then north on US 1 and the rising moon followed me the whole way home.

I came home and wrote down a few thoughts, then opened my windows and took a moon bath as a beam streamed down onto the bed.   I watched it from the pillow until it moved west out of my line of sight, and then got a few hours of restful sleep.  A friend called about 2:00am and I was glad to go over and help them attend to some matters. Driving home at daybreak. I had the urge to take a quick run to the ocean.  I ignored it since sleep seemed the better option.

This is often my dilemma: follow my guidance to do yet one more fun thing, or get myself horizontal and catch up on sleep.  Sleep often seems the most dispensable. Then I end up, like now, having really gotten off my sleep schedule.  I can tell when I’m trying to have discussions with a friend and their words sound like a jumble of letters I’m supposed to reach in and assemble into words and phrases.  When the  mindfog sets in, the way I cure it is to shut down all external stimuli and get alone in the dark and quiet for a few days.  I sit and meditate, I do yoga, work out with weights or do isometrics, nothing aerobic.  I give my mind something to focus on as I do some deep breathing and tire my body out.  I retreat to rooms with no clock and no evidence of work: that’s crucial for me when I want to get out of the work mindset and into the sleep mindset.  And sleep is crucial if I’m to have coherent conversations, so new friends don’t think I’m always so distracted. Maybe next full moon cycle I’ll release my preconceived notions of how much sleep I need and how much I’m actually getting.