When I went into my yoga class tonight, I steered past my typical section of the room because someone was sitting there who had such bad body odor, legit, half the room smelled bad. That’s okay – no judgement – and no idea who it was.
We settled into our various spots and worked through several postures holding our knees, stretching our spines, twisting, and deep breathing before coming into a kneel. With the few inches of extra height, I could see a big ball of light out the window. The surprise that it was the moonrise and not a streetlamp caught me and took my breath away (no one noticed because everyone else was breathing really heavy).
A whisper escaped my lips “Gosh, you’re so beautiful”, and the extra mindfulness that comes with yoga revealed how odd it is to talk to the moon like a friend (or really my dog who’s the only other being I call the most beautiful on a daily basis).
I also don’t think anyone else could see it, which is just magic.
As our instructor guided us to clear our thoughts and focus on our breath, I thought about how intimate my connection is with the moon, and how I’m actually just one of billions and billions of humans it’s seen (all who also think they have an intimate connection with it too). It started to sound a lot like how people talk about God in church (“Your cares aren’t too small for God, even in the midst of all these other people.” “Every person can have an intimate relationship with God.” etc.)
Stop thinking about your childhood, clear your mind. Breathe deep, Gracie, and come up with a conspiracy theory.
Okay, so here’s where I landed (pun intended):
When the astronauts landed on the moon, there was a conspiracy. What we see in the recordings was a made up set. The reality was, they found a divine being with rushing, swirling energy like rainbows of light but only the top half of the rainbow – Red, orange, and yellow have too low of a frequency to be included. That’s why the moon doesn’t look orange like the sun.
It spoke, it breathed, it knew them, they knew it.
But – we couldn’t have the Moon’s divinity on TV because HD flatscreens didn’t exist yet. (YES of course the astronauts learned about that technology when they landed because they were filled with divine knowledge and understanding of past, present, and future all as one breathing moment).
They were sworn to secrecy. The moment changed them. Alan Shepherd still played golf.
And then, as they left, they had 9 months to use those transformative moments to plant the seeds for the rest of the 20th century. The memories themselves faded as their telomeres returned to normal length.
And that’s it. Each of the six NASA missions leading to the moon created a club of humans more exclusive than the US Presidency. As a new wave of humans returned to Earth, their predecessors had already forgotten. The moments kept quiet in their chests, and then their own memories faded.
As I type these last lines, I can look up from my desk and watch the moon’s borders slipping past the top threshold of my window. She spoke. She told me to look down at her reflection on the tide and enjoy her impact more than her face. A true feminist.