Today’s Solar Eclipse (as seen in Boston) – Photo: S. Weikel
Today’s Solar Eclipse
I can’t decide. Should I write a little more about the creature that was in my bedroom the other night and what it means when Moth shows up in your life? Or should I follow up on today’s solar eclipse?
Sadly, I did not get a good look at the eclipse this morning. But my son Sage did! He and Sarah got themselves to a beach, bright and early, near where they live in Boston. And wow – I just had to feature the photo he took with his iPhone. It’s spectacular! And Mother Nature very kindly provided them with just enough of a filter that they weren’t at risk of hurting their eyes, yet the eclipse could still be seen through the wispy clouds.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, although I didn’t witness the eclipse myself, I did contemplate it. (I looked out my bedroom window and couldn’t see anything. I will admit, semi-ashamedly, that I did not hop into my car and drive to my usual celestial viewing spot. I was sure, when I went to bed last night, it would be too overcast to see anything by morning. And while it sort of looked that way from my bedroom window, I have a feeling I succumbed to hasty decision-making.
Consolation Visit
While visiting my sweet Tohickon Creek is never a ‘consolation prize’ (although it is at once both a consolation and a prize – discuss*), I noticed what might be a metaphor for this eclipse.
I was sitting in my car with the windows down listening to the competing conversations of the rushing current of the Tohickon and the cacophony of cicadas in the deciduous trees lining the Tohickon’s banks. I won’t lie: it was heavenly. But as I sat there and wrote in my journal, contemplating the eclipse, I got a glimpse of a fascinating potential metaphor:
The focus of my gaze was before me. The torrential rain from yesterday afternoon, and steadier rain into the evening, translated into a reasonably brisk flow of toward its destination, the Delaware River. The pace of the water passing before me wasn’t excessive, but it was powerful. And truly, it felt like it was reflecting the desire in my heart to move forward.
I feel motivated and excited to catch a rapid (and perhaps a little raucous) ride as the current moves downstream on this new moon. And then I shifted my perception to my rearview mirror and was astonished.
Wow. Sitting right there in plain view was a massive poison ivy plant in the midst of overtaking an entire tree. The tricky part is that the poison ivy is so prolific that it has become gargantuan. Its leaves and hairy vines are significant players, and I have to wonder how many fisher-people and tourists have come home with a nasty case of poison because they didn’t realize those leaves brushing their face from above were poison.
The Metaphor Was Clear
Leave it behind. Put the poison (no matter how big it is) that was revealed by the eclipse of the sun in the rearview mirror and don’t look back. Head downriver where the water runs clear and cool. Ride those currents and embrace the reflections of both blue skies and high white clouds.
This new moon was and is more powerful than most precisely because of the solar eclipse. May we all take advantage of it and sow the seeds of some seriously powerful dreams over the next several days. Dreams that will support and nurture us for the next twenty years or so.
*Warning: Throwback SNL reference
(T-169)