The world was charged with drama, today. As I work with mostly East-Coasters, my day calms down around 3 p.m., and I rarely hear from anyone past 4 or so until they pop back on their computers pre-bedtime. In the quiet, I'm able to write or do "paper"work or just wander. It's a nice way to transition into whatever plans I have for the evening.
Not so tonight. All day, I'd been hearing highly-charged emails and IMs flitting around the electronosphere, with phrases like "you could be fired!" and "sued" and "illegal." There was no winding down. Finally I threw up my hands and created a new away message on AIM. "I'm kind of away," I typed. "You're only allowed to IM me if you have something nice to say."
Almost immediately, my carefully-crafted demands were violated with a whole new firestorm, one completely not of my making. There were new words and phrases, like "affair" and "unprofessional" and "gnat." Actually, that last one made me laugh.
I couldn't believe how crazy the world was, this day. And as I disengaged myself from the various electronic crises and readied Truman for our long bike ride to meet some lovely, calm mamas for a brainstorming meeting, I remembered the moon. A full moon in August.
It's long been my theory that full moons greatly effect our behavior -- I always fight with my husband under the full moon, it seems, and my friends have reported a similar emotional orbit. And the full moons in August and September, I think, are the most affecting, bringing us to heights of emotion, passion, make us more fully ourselves, even to a sometimes-frightening apex. Inhibitions are vaporized in the hot, brilliant end of the cycle.
It was a full moon in August, after all, when I conceived Truman, he who is the most deeply realized child, whose soul has that peculiarly strong gravitational pull.
As I rode home through the dark, cool streets of Portland, Truman and I watched the glowing round orb, transfixed by its affect on our world. And as I turned the corner onto Francis St., a skateboarder grabbed ahold of Truman's trailer, and hitched a ride.
It's a full moon in August. Beware.