The other night as I was lying in fish pose (a restorative yoga position I highly recommend for those who are always on their phone/computer)—an almost-full moon demanded my attention as it flooded light in through my window. There has only been one other time I’ve been able to see the moon from my bedroom—when I was in a shared hospital room in inpatient. Amidst such unsettling surroundings, I remember the familiar sight acted as a grounding anchor, reminding me that I am still on this planet, connected to the Earth.
This time—in a much more peaceful environment, as Sade played on shuffle—I realized how the moon never ceases to dumbfound me. When my mom had an aneurysm when I was a kid, I remember staring at the moon during my first cold winter nights in my new home of Calgary. Compared to the polluted skies of Toronto, the big open prairie sky made the moon…