Sunrise, Moonset

6:15 this morning.  That cold, familiar nose begins nudging gently at my outstretched hand(not Mark's) and I climb out of bed to let Becca outside so that we can both quickly retreat back into our beds, back into the warmth, back into the restful worlds of our dreams.  But just as I expect that I will barely have to open my eyes before snuggling securely back underneath the soft weight of my down comforter, I am startled into a sudden hyper-awareness by the mirrored beauty of the full moon as it reflects upon the water. I gasp out loud and the noise sounds as if it has come from someone else.  I consider keeping this moment of absolute sudden beauty to myself but my desire to share what I am witnessing gets the better of me and, as usual in moments like these, I reach for my camera to preserve.  I think about the idea that a moment does not become any less holy just because my second or third thought is to snap a few photographs of it and the next sound I hear is a soft, repetitive click, click, click.  I am now more inside of the moment than I was before and as I turn from the side of the horizon in which the moon was beginning to set, I am once again struck by that feeling of awe.

For behind me, over the San Clemente pier, the sun is slowly beginning its lazy ascent into the sky taking its time as if to gaze at the moon.  On one side, the moon finishing its glorious light show and on the other, the sun ushering in a brand new day.  Oh, the possibilities.  Oh, the colors!

Becca runs past me back into the house but I am no longer in a rush to close my eyes so I stand outside and watch as it happens all around me.  Moon, earth, and sun.  Everything feels as if it is perfectly aligned.

And as the colors begin to blend into one another, I take one more look at my world as it appears right at this moment at 6-something in the morning and I wonder to myself if I will ever be able to readjust my circadian rhythm to become a morning person.  No, I decide.  If four babies within six years was not permanently able to change it for me, then there is probably a very small possibility of it ever occurring in this lifetime and that is okay.  For there are wonders that happen on both sides of the day and more than likely, by witnessing one, the chance of being awake to witness the other is fairly unlikely.

As I make my way back to my bed, I stop to cradle Becca's sweet face in my hands and I kiss her firmly on the snout.  She looks at me as if the sun and the moon rise around me and I realize that to her at least, they do.  I have witnessed more than one incredibly magical moment this morning.

Moonlit Morning or Reflections on Reflecting

Through sleepy, dream-fogged eyelids I felt something beckoning me to rise from my restful slumber as I tried my hardest to resist.  Nestled cozily underneath my covers the last thing I wanted to do was open my eyes.  Lately, sleep is the only respite I receive against the frustrations that sometimes fill my waking hours, and I get a bit grumpy when I am woken up before I am ready to face the day.  But on this particular morning, the brightness which was infiltrating my dreams shone relentlessly and I was forced to squint, little by little, towards the light.  There it was, enticing me out of my darkness, and there I was hopping from my warm bed onto the cold ceramic tile searching for my camera before I even realized what I was doing.  I glanced at the clock.  Six a.m.  Daylight was barely beginning to break, yet there was the persistent full moon holding its position in the sky.  It was almost as if the moon was refusing to relinquish its spot, holding fast to its ownership of the heavens.  I opened the door to our bedroom deck and stepped outside into the cool morning air.  There is something about being part of a day that is just waking up that brings hope to my soul.  Something about knowing that today can be a better day that allows me to wonder about the possibilities.  Maybe this will be the day that certain people in my life will come to their senses.  Maybe this is the day in which all of the planets(however many there are now) will align properly and I will be allowed to see my beloved brothers children again.  Or maybe this will be the day when my restless soul will find some serenity and everything will be as it should be.  On this moon-filled morning, I am in awe of the idea that night can be day and day can be night.  It reminds me that if something isn't right with the story, there is still a way to turn that which feels impossible into possible.  And so, I begin doing my best to preserve this moment in time.  To capture its beauty, to capture its message.
The sky begins to change and swirls of colorful clouds begin to wisp their way across the horizon as the moon politely fades into the background.  The sun takes its rightful position in the sky and day now begins.

Later in the day a lone seagull wades serenely along the shoreline.  The water mirrors its image beneath.  As I observe him, his double-image reminds me that our stories can take different paths depending upon how we choose to act or react.  If we aren't happy with how the story is going, we have the choice to change it.  We have been given the innate power of free-will and in that power, we can decide what we will do in order to change the ending.  Will we peek out at the morning moon and then close our eyes against it, or will we open our soul to the message and then take it into our heart?  Will we ignore our images as they are reflected back to us, or will we observe that image, take it in and use it to learn and grow and change?

May you open your eyes to the possibility of each new day and may you find a way to remind yourself that if you aren't satisfied with how your tale is evolving, you have the power to make changes.  May you trust your own intuition so that you can confidently co-write the story of your life.