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THERE IS GOLD IN THE SILENCE

I wake this morning for no reason. Nothing jostles or bangs, nothing rings or pushes me out of slumber with a start. The footfall of the cats is gentle, a trill from the old cat letting me know I am alive and aware. There are no cars on the road, so no engine growls as it travels by the house.


It is 2:00 am. The trees out my window are silhouettes against a gray and indigo sky, a star hovers above one tree like a piece of metallic plasma that fell from a heavenly galaxy. It winks at me. My body is alive with the knowledge that a harvest moon is hovering over the earth. I couldn’t see her through the trees before I went to bed. I know she has now moved to the southside of the house, hidden by roofline and more tree line. I know she is there. The air is gauzy with soft coral—she’s close.


If I wasn’t positive that she is following her own ordained path by Something much more powerful than I, I would call it coquettish—playing hide and seek with me. She knows that I may go back to bed and miss seeing her altogether because I chose slumber. She knows how dear she is to me. I’ll see her tonight.


Right now, the silence lulls me. I am fine being in the present moment. I have already checked my iPad to see what is coming from my outside world. My daily dose of Tinybeans is not available yet. I won’t know about the doings of Jack, Avery, and Ashton for another hour. A commentary by Heather Cox Richardson tells me of the frenetic attempts of government take over, and I mourn for civility that has been lost in the quest for domination. I see reactions from my Facebook friends to posts I made last evening. I love the connection I feel with former colleagues and family, of friends I’ve never met, all saying “hello” with a simple “like” emoji.


My world has become so full of regard and honoring. No longer do I wake in the wee hours and consider what needs to be done to address problems facing my agency. So much attachment to that identity is gone, released over the years after the grief was hugged away and replaced with gentle timelines of writing, poetry, family, friends and . . . the journey of love. These days I breathe easily, especially in the dark womb of night.


As I write, I feel the moon change course just a bit, to peek in on what I’m writing. I feel her abundance, her deep golden light that shines through the tree line and sifts down through the roof, into the room, behind my chair nodding as I write my truth. I’m vibrating with her goodness.


The harvest moon is one of my greatest joys. She fills the sky, gifted from the Benevolent Being that loves showing off the light of the heavens. She brings a calm sense of majesty in the darkest hours, sending this love light to the world. My heart sings knowing that this same moon also graces the ancient relics of Stonehenge, the Danish forest of Gribskov, and the lands still held dear in the British Isles, Celtic, Scottish, igniting their ancient history and beauty of their stories, poetry, and honoring of their beloved lands. Even as she peers around a fir tree here, she bathes other parts of our splendid world with the vibrations of her peace. This has been her way to so many tribes and civilizations.


As I sit in the early morning realms of silence, citizens in other parts of the world go about their own ways of living. Some are already doing their jobs, some are seeking to find desperately needed shelter, some are preparing to take on worldly direction through gatherings at the U.N., and some are baking lovely savories in an Indian kitchen for those coming for dinner.

There is clamor around the world that needs attention and news sources are already arriving with cameras and microphones to tell us their perspective on new but familiar human tribulations.


There is also an aura of human need for comfort because people are lonely. They have not realized that the Love of the Universe is already loving them. How do you tell them that a harvest moon is proof positive of the greatest Love of all?


Somewhere there is a couple eyeing each other for the first time, knowing intuitively that they are being shown their destiny. I’m in awe knowing that they are beginning an important journey together while I listen to my awakening cats chase each other in and out of the open closet. Their simple feline zeal is as electrifying as the coming together of those two souls.


We are all one. In this time of peace, I am also aware of the range of emotions across the planet by all who are living their lives as best they can. I send them peace. I tell them telepathically that I believe in them. And I do.


It’s now 3:00 am, and she continues to linger unseen. Her sweet vibrations are filling the room as I type, so I know she’s here. She is asking me to savor this awareness of my oneness with all of earth’s humanity.


“It’s what is needed,” she whispers.









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