Waiting for the Lunar Eclipse
It’s almost midnight, June 4, and I’m by myself on the rooftop garden of my hotel in Morocco – waiting for the lunar eclipse. That’s my surface story. In truth, I am enjoying the cool, desert breeze on my skin (so refreshing after the intense heat of the afternoon) and the myriad sounds of music/people talking on the streets below and in the not-too-distant souk … so much human diversity in such a small space.
I have such a Large Space in my own body, not yet fully integrating my experience of the Spanish More To Life Weekend. Since the close of the course about 24 hours ago, I’ve laughed and cried with the team, re-packed, dashed to the airport, agonized about over-packing, arrived into the fascination that is Marrakech, explored the souk, and laughed some more with my friends – Valerie, Felipe, Susan and Kirsty. It’s all so rich – rich in the freedom in my soul, rich in the deep connections of old/new friends, and rich in faith that all is well.
I’ve not let enough time for the wonder of it all to sink into my cells – moving so quickly from one set of sensory experiences to another. So now, in the light of the moon, which has yet to be eclipsed, I am alone and quiet (except for a cat), breathing in the night air, laden with foreign scents, and feeling so very grateful for my life, for the people in it, and for the opportunity to be a part of Life As It IS.
Thank you Felipe and Marisa for being the spearheads; thank you Antonio, Alejandro and Rosa for stepping into bold leadership alongside them, and thank you Susan and Tina for your support of their efforts. Lives were changed this last weekend – ours included!
Beautiful description, Ann. Got chill bumps as I read your words and felt the peacefulness.
Much love to you,
Martha Edgemon
I loved your description. It reminds me of one of those moments that is burned into my being. It occurred in Fez (Morocco) at daybreak. We were awakened by the sound of the call to prayer. My friend and I went out on the balcony of our hotel which was in the wall of the old historic walled city. No cars are permitted in the narrow “streets” of the old city, so the only sounds were the clip clop of the donkeys carrying their wares to market, and the occasional cry of a child, or a shopkeeper on his way. Soft light was just breaking in the eastern sky. It was a magical moment emblazoned on my brain. Thanks for jogging that memory back to the forefront.
I am feeling peaceful with you Ann, reading you. Thanks!