And then there was quiet. And then there was calm. And some peace. And then was it: a feeling of not anger, a sense of not unhappy. There was an old moon ripening, waiting for me to indulge and I acknowledged it was there and looked forward to it, but with a warm longing and not a nagging need.
And then there was strength. How was it there? How can you explain something that you didn’t work for? That you cannot trace the steps back to? And then strength said, “You need not explain,” because strength never needs to explain. Strength can just be.
And then there was a new notion, perhaps born of the anticipation of the old moon and its warmth–the notion that perhaps I was not the one missing out on…but that others were missing out on me. The notion, pressing insistently but with a clever little fiendish smile that said, “They should be here…because that would be lucky for them.” And how can you turn a blind eye on an impish, grinning idea like that. You can’t. So, I let the idea in. And invited it to the old moon party.
And it was lucky to be here. And so was I.