The Moon rose slowly and majestically as the skies turned from grey, to blue to black. She hovered over the water, shaking her glistening moonlit tail at me.
“I didn’t know the moon had a tail,” I exclaimed.
Her silver laugh sounded like tinkling chimes and she said, “Dear One, you would be wise to open your eyes, really open your eyes and see what you haven’t been seeing.”
“What do you mean?” I said.
I heard the sound of tinkling chimes once again, “The veil that has covered humanity is lifting. Things are not as you have suspected them to be!” Her tail shimmered in the water.
I looked up at her. She was round and bright in her feminine fullness. The rocky beach, the waters, the forest, and I were all bathed in her white light. She must have seen the earnest look on my face.
“Dear One, you are all aspects of the One. Interconnected. Interwoven. The planet, the people, the plants, the animals. There is no separation. There is no You and Them. When you fight, you are fighting yourselves. When you take from the other, you take from yourself. You are a part of the One diverse, living, resilient organism. And it is not too late – yet! Renewal, regeneration, and restoration are still possible! The time has come for you to remember this. Open your eyes, and finally see!”
And she laughed again, her tail continuing to dance above the waters, as the coyotes howled in their affirmation and appreciation of her.
She called to me, and so I came.
Just as she had before, she let me climb and clamber her steep and wandering trails. She let me rest in her dusty earth and bathe in the mossy shade of her forests. Every breath I took, I breathed in her wisdom and just, as always, she brought me to my knees.
“You, too, are the mountain,” she whispered through the breeze.
She continued. “The seasons will come with their icy winds and snow storms swirling and settling on your skin. The rains will rush down in torrents soaking you and bringing with them, the new growth of Spring. And later, after the dry heat of the sun scorches and parches your terrain, it will all begin again. So, do not condemn the seasons, for the seasons are an earthly adventure, and each is beautiful in its own right.”
“Remember,” she said, “you are not the seasons. You are the mountain, and the seasons are just passing through.”
As She spoke, I felt myself still, serene, and at peace – just like the mountain.
The blue watery eye of the earth beckoned to me. “Look deep, Dear One, can you see the depths of my soul?”
I searched in the blue green swirls of the watery iris eye, and the more I looked, the more I saw. And the more I saw in the peaceful never-ending depths, the more I got lost in the beauty I found there.
“I forgot, Lake, what am I looking for? You are so breathtaking and beautiful. I just want to dive into your deep blueness and swim there forever.”
“Ahhh,” said the Lake, “You have found the depths of my soul with ease.”
“Why, all you must ever do, even with your most hated enemy, is look into the depths of the eyes. You will always find the beauty of the soul there.”
And I vowed to look in every eye to find that beauty.