Meditations on the Moon
haiku no. 180
the moon is rising
overseas a baby stirs
leaving only waves
The moon is a symbol of change and renewal. As a celestial body above the Earth, the moon generates the tidal forces and its twilight luminescence is enough to bring a sense of familiar comfort to late-night travelers. The moon can also represent a powerful motherly energy, echoing a sense of deeper familiarity with one’s spirit, Nature, Earth, and her embracing rapture. They say when one sleeps, Mother is close.
On a weekly schedule, Monday is the day of the moon—it is said to be unwise to attempt anything overly radical or (more specifically) permanent on this day because Monday’s correspondence is, again, change and renewal—Monday is often the first day of the workweek or an otherwise initiatory day in some capacity. This word initiatory has a very rich presence in symbolic understanding, namely that ‘to change’ involves both the beginning and the end of something, marking the beginning and the end of an age or cycle. In other words, one is simultaneously (and enduringly) initiated or “birthed” into a new age or state, while at the same time succumbing to the “death” of the old form, which is typically the remains of a Sunday’s vitality, reception, and rejuvenation (a bit more on this later). It is important to remember that one experiences this as a familiar (never mind a good or bad) narrative on a weekly, or even daily basis. Whether one is aware or not, one performs these cycles entirely symbolically. (“I hate Mondays” is a classic attitude conveying a “lack of initiative,” or rather, the desire to otherwise suppress or rebel against the said initiative, in combination with a desire to return to the weekend… and there is nothing wrong with that, per se, but what is wrong, then?) Monday is a day to start something new, but know that even this practice will grow into something different and evolving. Progress starts too often with pain, but growth is pain in progress.
Monday is also a day to return to your emotions, to come to your senses by releasing hold of the mind. Like the tide, the universe ebbs and flows—so which are you, the water or the wave? The moon invites one to feel deep empathy and compassion with others and our Self, much like the depths of the sea whose body invites one’s exploration and respectful trepidation. Above, our eyes can barely grasp what is felt below.
One day, the Zen monk Ryokan was wandering between villages, meditating and teaching, when he returned home and found a robber had come and stolen what few things he owned. It is said he chased after the robber with a cushion, saying he’d forgotten it. Ryokan wrote this poem in reaction:
“The thief left it behind;
the moon at my window.”
In Zen, humor is a practical tool for understanding the insights that the universe provides moment to moment. The thief had stolen what little possessions Ryokan, an impoverished monk, might have had in rural Japan, but he sees it differently. He feels instead that the thief had taken an armful of useless junk, leaving behind his most precious privilege (what cannot be taken): the moon in his window. It is amusing to him that the thief, no matter how hard he may try, cannot take what is essential to Ryokan’s well-being. The moon, like the Mother Earth beneath our feet, is an agent of change in permanence—in other words, both paradoxically and symbolically, they remain constant as they change. For example, take the four seasons: it is a common Zen saying that summer does not change into fall and fall does not change into winter; rather, it is first summer and then it is fall; it is first fall and then it is winter. It is not the Earth that becomes different (in essence), but the seasons which differ as the Earth “seasons.” In other words, just as the sea waves, the universe peoples.
The moon is the unrelenting calmness of the ebbing and flowing of our emotional currents, while the Earth represents a countering grounded-ness, always ready in her firmness opposite the celestial bodies of the moon and stars. Monday is a day one is invited to check-in to one’s emotional relationships, not just to fret and wonder, but also to recognize those stable, constant flows that empower us at the right times and right places, those familiar, symbolic encounters with close friends, co-workers, comfort foods, conversations, songs, and comfy chairs that bring you (some semblance of) persistent peace. Look outside and notice the “seasoning” of the trees or the way people dress (sweater weather is a precious time). When you can, notice the moon left in the window. What is taken is not essential; what is present is more important.
Let us take a quick detour. Much can be said considering the transition between Sun-day and Mo(o)n-day, though I will say now that while similar, the two days do perform different energetic purposes; this is to say, despite being very closely related (as Mother and Son—symbolically, of course, as well as conceptually and manifestly), Monday is starkly different than Sunday when it comes to that initiatory presence we discussed earlier. Sun-day deserves its own time to shine (!), but for the moment, know that Monday shines as a day to begin the week, really, at your own pace. Tuesday, as the day of Mars, the Warrior, is often a more aggressive and driven day. We have time on Monday to take moments for our Self, and when our contemplation and initiation is over and we’re ready to begin the week’s full strife, we move on. Never try to pull or push a river, it flows by itself. Know that each day has its place.
Returning to the moon, Shakespeare writes: “Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. / Then your love would also change,” (Romeo and Juliet). The phases of the moon represent the procession of the soul from empty to full and back again (roughly a 29.5-day cycle). Additionally, the dark side of the moon represents an ever-present hidden aspect of the Self, the unconscious or shadow-self (not to be confused with the unconscious shadow). When the moon is new, or empty, it marks the beginning of the lunar cycle and is the effect of the sun’s light shining on the “dark side” or opposite side of the visible moon. What this means is that during the new moon, she represents the fragility of the self in the stability of the unconscious or unknown realm of mind, body, and spirit—essentially, the new moon is the darkness within which one plants the seeds of growth and manifestation. It is a period of revival and vitalization, of initial inertia. Following the waxing moon, the full moon marks the halfway point in the lunar cycle and consequently symbolizes a period of heightened friction and emotional tension, which, while potentially uncomfortable, is often a source of great creativity, spiritual growth, and healing. It is worth mentioning that the sun and moon are in opposite celestial ages when the full moon is present; per contra, during the new moon, the sun and moon share the same celestial transit. This contributes to the countering flows and balancing acts experienced at the time of a full moon.
To Shakespeares’ point, one’s love evolves just as swiftly and persistently as the moon. It does not shake nor falter, but by its very nature, it gently influences all it touches. A Zen pupil asks, “what other body could pull an entire ocean from shore to shore?” The moon is faithful to its lover, aren’t you? We needn’t go outside to know she’s there. The Sufi saint Rumi says, “There is a moon inside every human being. Learn to be companions with it.” Let yourself settle like water and glimpse the reflection of her next to your Self. See the constant presence hidden within others. Feel it within you. Rumi, again, says, “The lovers of God never run out of patience, for they know that time is needed for the crescent moon to become full.” Do not waste time waiting and be patient. (See if you can decipher that one.)
Enjoy the full moon this Monday (20 September)! It leaves Aquarius and enters Pisces for the next few days before waning back into the new moon.
