Moon Pull

Photo by Ganapathy Kumar on Unsplash

A Brief Slide Into Question

Last night, I was restless; my sinuses had a mind of their own, my body felt awkward, and sleep was elusive. My balance felt off; maybe the crystals were having a party in my ears. I thought I was hungry, but then it was more like borderline nausea. I felt like I could run a marathon, but all I wanted to do was close my eyes and let my mind cool down…without sleep aids.

Bad idea.

Full moon.

Of course.

It seems so simple, a full moon.

What makes this planet full of dust and rock, and who knows what else, a symbol? Why do so many people report feeling different during full moons when there is little to no measurable physiological effect?

I notice changes not only in my physiology, but also in my energy level, attitude, and outlook for the next day. You might be thinking — “Hmm, maybe this gal needs to go on some type of mood stabilizer.”

Nah, I adjust my routine according to the moon. I’ve always done that. I’ve come to accept that these natural phenomena are here for a reason. Like everything else, we are subject to geological and climate changes, including barometric shifts, thunderstorms, wind, ice, and snow. When the sun shines high, warming everything to life, my life feels the calmest: like everything is in its right place. I can breathe.

What do the cycles of the moon have to do with our changes?

I read a book by Elizabeth Berg titled The Pull of the Moon, released in 1996. For me, it wasn’t about leaving a marriage in an impromptu attempt to find oneself during a trek across the country with nothing but a journal to fill; it was more about listening, following, and learning that something beyond my control held the reins. My older sister, who is unfortunately no longer in my life, gave me the book as a birthday gift many years ago; however, I did not see the significance of her gift until years later. She saw me as a restless soul, unsettled, always on the move, making attempts at geographical cures, trying to find something that never quite materialized in my younger days.

The book served as a metaphor for how she perceived me. Our nine-year difference was a catalyst for her earthly wisdom; at the time, she was right.

Maybe she still is.

Moon pull is a constant. The more I give credence to whatever it is, the more at peace I am. Fact or fiction? (Perhaps another podcast for The Gateway Storyteller). Maybe it’s a sense of surrender, a place to park reasons for specific bodily changes. My menstrual cycles seemed to align with the waxing and waning of the moon. Menopause? I don’t think the cycles change significantly. Here’s a quick question for the women reading this article: Would you agree?

And sometimes, blaming it on natural phenomena is easier than admitting to aging and possible physiological issues that I’m choosing to ignore.

I digress.

On my way home last night, I took the Ironton Ferry across the short patch of channel waters from Charlevoix to Boyne City on Lake Charlevoix. The moon just hung, in all its gray glory, smack in the middle of a sky scattered with clouds, casting a brilliant white, spectacled tablecloth over the water. I called a friend 200 miles downstate and asked, “Can you see the moon right now?”

She said, “It’s gorgeous. I sat outside with the dogs for a while and just watched it.”

See, everyone can see it simultaneously. It gives pause for admiration every month of the year, without fail. It is easier to observe than the sun because it isn’t as blinding. To me, the moon holds mysteries that the sun does not. The sun, our only source of natural light, has a specific job.

The moon’s job?

Subjective in its objectivity.

What significance does the pull of the moon hold for you?

Thank you for joining me on this brief thought process…

Your humble host,

E-