Is the Moon Lonely? Time to Start Blogging Again

I’m going to resume blogging, meaning that I’ll start posting again and I’ll go back to commenting on other people’s blogs.   Michelle at Steadily Skipping Stones pointed out that blogging makes us better people.  I’m sorry I turned my back on it.  I’ve missed it.  I don’t know what to post after that upbeat doozie I published yesterday about pain, but I’ll think of something.  I’d like to write something about hostels and the backpacking lifestyle, but that will have to wait until later in the week.  For now, here’s something I wrote months ago and never posted:

Late one night, when I was three or four, my family and I were driving in our Ford Escort.  I was sitting in the rear passenger seat behind my mom, to the right of my sister.  My dad was driving.  I sat staring through the window at the full moon and wondered why it followed us, why wherever we drove, however fast we went, the bright white disc stayed with us.  I paid close attention when my dad accelerated.  If we went fast enough, if we caught the moon off guard, might we edge ahead of it?

I asked my dad how it matched our movement so perfectly, and he gave me a practical, scientific explanation about relative distances that made perfect sense.  Rational understanding of the moon filled me with wonder, but I couldn’t quite rid myself of the urge to attribute motive and agency to the moon’s behavior.  I always wanted to pretend that it was watching over us, or that it followed us out of curiosity and wondered why we stared at it so, or that maybe it was lonely and was begging for our attention.  And there you have the duality that exists at my core: the desire to rationalize everything paired with the urge to project fanciful romance everywhere.

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About atomsofthought
Teacher. Traveler. Writer. Reader.

12 Responses to Is the Moon Lonely? Time to Start Blogging Again

  1. chasing now says:

    But that’s what makes us all so beautifully human, the desire to know everything intellectually and then turn around and write a poem about it. I used to really struggle with the duality you describe, and feel like I was two different people, but now I pretty much accept that even though I may know the science behind things, I’m sometimes going to prefer the stories I’ve made up about them. Keeps life interesting, I guess. Great to see you writing again on here!

  2. Painter Lady says:

    Beautiful. Welcome back to writing.

  3. This piece reminds me that writing doesn’t have to be lengthy and full of metaphor and detail to be meaningful.

    Sometimes I try too hard. Thanks for reminding me about simplicity.

    Beautiful writing.

  4. I was thinking exactly what Christine said! The email all fit on one page and I thought you must not have much to say on this one – boy was I wrong.

    I’m like that too; I am so fascinated with the world and how it works. But I think there’s a real beauty, a real magic in the functionality of the world. For example, how amazing is it that the waters on this planet are in continual motion? Not only are the oceans moving in tides and currents – living, breathing beings – but the waters in them evaporate and move across the world, rain down on the land, gather into rivers, and run back into the sea. Or those drops of ocean rain get sucked up into a tree, or drunk by a bear, and become something completely different.

    That is at once scientifically true (or as much as I can describe it) and profoundly poetic.

    I often attach emotions to inanimate objects, like the moon, the ocean, dolls, books, quarters… I know it’s not real, but it’s how I relate to the world. Perhaps your moon being lonely up in the sky makes more sense than my quarter being lonely in a change drawer, and it’s certainly more romantic. But I think it all just means that we are emotionally oriented, sympathetic, creative, perhaps fanciful people. I can live with that.

  5. Pingback: Responding to Writing and Pain | The Chapel

  6. pattisj says:

    I love your thoughts on this, and the moon following you.

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