Pools of Sun and Moonlight (Keeping Balanced)

My soul is fed by two pools - one of sunlight and one of moonlight.

The pool of sunshine is filled with laughter, liveliness, movement, and people. The movement and activity allow me to radiate health, vivacity - feeling the energy of life coursing through me as I flow in yoga asanas, go for a walk, or hike to a waterfall.  Though it is especially the people, the time spent with those I love and care about (really no matter what we’re doing), that make this life and my soul glow bright with happiness.  That glow is brightest when the time spent is particularly connective and bonding, and those shorter but deliciously warm flares help make the pool whirl and ripple, and when full it pours into my soul in a torrent of of brilliant color and light.

The pool of moonlight is quieter, filled with solitude, reflection, introspection, creativity, and all things breathtaking and stirring to the soul. It is still, serene, and deeply nourishing. It is most often begins filling with time alone, but it doesn’t begin to truly flow until that time alone is enriching in some way.  For instance, for me, sitting still and staring at the ocean fills this pool to overflowing.  Allowing my thoughts to ebb and flow with the water, to roam where they will - ruminating, creating, all while my senses feast on the ever-changing waves as they swell, crest, and crash with a roar into the shore. Unfortunately I live in a landlocked desert, so I am more often forced to find other ways to create that effect, writing or reading in unique, inspiring places, and of course spending time in nature’s beauty - gardens, mountain views, running rivers.  It is easier when I’m out of the house looking at and feeling inspired by new things, but with a little effort I can create those calm, still and introspective moments at home too.  Once full, this luminescent pool pours its gleaming white liquid into my soul in a calm, constant, delicious flow.

Sometimes certain moments can fill both pools, but they usually need to be filled separately. When I feel overwhelmed, constantly irritated, unfulfilled, ungrateful, or generally out of balance, it usually means one of the pools is low.  It is usually the pool of moonlight, as it feels like such a luxury (and a little selfish) to spend quality time alone when there is so much to be done.  So it usually depletes without me noticing until it is dry and I'm unhappy.  So it turns out that everyone, and I mean everyone, is better off when I have that time to myself to rejuvenate and breathe for a little while.  It's something I think everyone should do actually, and can't recommend it enough.   Even if it's just one day every few months, slow down, take some time for yourself.  Try to build it in in shorter slices on a weekly basis too (go for a walk alone, or to a yoga class or whatever), but be sure to get a large slice of time every so often to do whatever makes your soul sing and/or whatever it takes to re-center yourself.  My mother instilled this instinct in me from a young age, and I'm so grateful.  After years of losing herself in childrearing, she didn't know how to spend an hour alone and her soul was parched, she was happy and unhappy all at once, and it was a hard won lesson to figure out what to do next and how to replenish her now Saharan pool.

The pool of sunlight is a little easier to fill days now that I'm a mother (it was more work when I was single), but now it is hard to find the time for friends and family when I'm circling the whirlpool of daily tasks required of both my job and my little family.  I am constantly struggling to ensure my pool of sunlight is full of all the people that make my soul happy so I don’t miss out on those connections, or let them grow stale.  Then let's not forget to talk about figuring out how to carve out time for worthwhile exercise (to let my body feel the glow) when at the end of most days I collapse onto the couch grateful to watch an hour of TV with my husband before going to bed. 

It’s daunting and it’s almost impossible to stay perfectly balanced and squeeze everything and everyone in. But I feel as long as I’m aware of the pools and the needs they represent, I can at least try to prevent their total depletion and resulting affect on my happiness and sanity.  

This all came up because right now I am filling the moonlight pool. I felt a desperate urgency to get away, and as I write this I am sitting on a wooden bench in a small but lovely garden at the circa 1905 bed and breakfast I have absconded to for the night (not really absconded since I had to ask my husband if he wouldn’t mind please holding down the fort while I was away, but I like the word abscond). I am surrounded by greenery, the air smells like lemon herb and is cool in the shade with a little flow of water over a rock in the corner. I started the day at a weird little sculpture garden (the Gilgal Garden), went to the Utah Museum of Fine Art for some soulful art viewing and a caprese sandwich and chai while it rained, and got a massage - a total splurge, but they are so lovely and relaxing.  I have so far spent the evening writing and watching the sunset paint the mountains pink from the deck outside my room, with the nearby cathedral bells ringing in the hour. Pretty much perfect.  

Tomorrow morning I will go home, snuggle my baby girl, plan my meals for the week, clean the house, do laundry, and cook dinner - the normal day in and day out of life. But I’ll do it with a full, refreshing pool of moonlight to keep me going.   

In the language of flowers Heath (Erica) means Solitude.  Beautiful.
Photo credit: Kingsbrae Garden Flickr