A few days ago my friend and Vedic astrologer, Marga Laub, mentioned in her newsletter that Friday night's full moon was about, "Healing the illusion of separation." I did not brace for any big lessons to show up on Friday night. I drove from Mineral Wells to Austin for a weekend breath circle and girl time. When I parked my car in front of my girlfriend's house in East Austin I skipped a step in my usual process - forgetting to lock my car. The next day after the breathing circle, the morning rain clouds had passed, the sun shone bright and my eyes squinted. I reached into my console for my sunglasses. They were not there.
Where could I have put them. I pulled over and looked under the seat. I KNEW I had left them there. I felt an uncomfortable sensation throughout my body, one that felt like I had no support, a feeling of loss, a feeling that I had done something wrong.
They had to be stolen. Then I remembered I also had my ipod in the console. If the ipod was gone then definitely someone had been in my car and taken my things. I felt nervous and violated as I pondered the concept of loss and the emptiness that accompanies loss. For a moment I steeped in this place and then wondered, "How can I get out of this funky place?" The first thought that came to my head was to do the opposite of what I was currently doing.
Gratitude. That's when I started to think about the positives. Well, my windows had not been broken, my purse had not been stolen, my car had not been hijacked. It wasn't a violent break in. As break ins go it was very benign. It was not a confrontational robbery. I thought about having to hand those material possessions over to someone and I would have gladly done that with gratitude in exchange for my life. That's when the magnification of the loss of these items began to shrink to the size of a pea and I could really feel grateful in my heart.
I pictured someone else with my things and had to laugh at the first feelings that surfaced which were very reminiscent of a breakup - imagining a lover loving another sort of feeling. I had to laugh, "It's a pair of friggin' sunglasses and a thingy I put songs and games on."
Then something else happened. The thought of someone else enjoying these items made me happy. I thought, "Wow! If those sunglasses or that ipod can brighten someone's day, more power to 'em." I was able to feel love for these people instead of violation, grateful to them for reminding me that stuff is just stuff is just stuff. Who knows, whoever gets hold of that ipod may end up listening to some of the wonderful books that I downloaded (David Elliott's - Healing and Relutant Healer, Ken Wilbur's - A Brief History of Everything, A Course in Miracles) or some of the great music selections (Jimmy Baldwin's - Vivador).
The next evening I ate dinner with a couple of friends at an outdoor cafe on East 7th. We watched the moon rise through the ancient twisted oak trees at the State Cemetery across the street. When I saw the moon I remembered..."this moon is about healing the illusion of separation," and I felt the oneness all around.
