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Moon Struck
by Donna Henes
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I cannot sleep
For the blaze of the full moon.
I thought I heard here and there
A voice calling.
Hopelessly I answer "Yes."
To the empty air.
--Lady Tzu Yeh, 3rd Century Chinese
I was 10 years old when the moon first beckoned to
me. The call came in the guise of a homework assignment.
Miss Lusk, my much-loved fourth grade teacher, told us
one propitious day to go home and compose a poem. Even
as she was speaking, it came to me in a flash — a
lunar illumination, if you will — that I would not be writing
a poem that night, but rather, waiting for one to
appear.
It was perfectly clear to me that if I were to go
outside alone in the middle of the night, my poem would
come and it would be completely composed, sent special
delivery directly to me. I knew this to be true.
No doubt about it. This imperative mandate from the moon
to me was completely irrefutable. Besides, the prospect
was tantalizing, at once a promise and a dare.
I understood what I must do. I would stay awake until
everyone was asleep, then sneak outside to find my poem.
Simple. But absolutely stunning in its implications.
This was 1955 and nice little girls — the tribe of
whom I was a member in good standing — simply didn’t
let themselves secretly out of the house to meditate in
the moonlight.
Despite the daunting odds imposed by personality and
convention, I did just that. A shy, painfully obedient
child, for the first time in my life my own inner
prompting asserted its will. And I was impelled to
follow, consequences not withstanding. I was possessed
with a completely primal compulsion that was beyond
thought or reason or experience; propelled forward by
some ancient instinct of emergency spirit survival. I
was buoyed by a sense of absolute rightness.
I itched all evening with the anticipation of my
intended rebellion. I had much resolve and no
reservation about the plan. My only concern was getting
caught. No matter. The moon is bigger than my mother,
after all, and it obviously had something very important
to tell me. I recognized the beckoning song of my lunar
siren. that my siren was singing to me and that I needed
to listen and learn. I didn’t once doubt that it was
for my own good.
So, at two o’clock in the morning, in my inaugural
action as a consciously spiritual seeker, I tiptoed down
the stairs and through the sleeping house. I opened the
back door and stepped outside into the unknown forbidden
night. Into the moon light and the radiant magic of the
moment. Into my newly-found self. Triumphant.
The back-lit clouds. The silver-cast mist. The
billion stars. The sacred silence. There I was, totally
solitary and aglow, surrounded by the vast emptiness,
the electric fullness, the complex choreographed swing
of all time and space. Completely safe, embraced by the
energy of the entire universe. Such a karmic calling
carries with it a sense of assurance, of protection and
conviction. That one small step for a girl was every bit
as phenomenal as Neal Armstrong’s footfall on the
moon. We both crossed the same crucial threshold toward
cosmic consciousness.
It was my premiere epiphany. The moon was my
temptress calling me out to play and I trusted the
impulse to follow. That alone, was a miracle. A bounding
leap of faith. Had nothing further occurred, the
elevation of trust and development of confidence in my
own understanding of the way things are would have been
empowering in and of themselves. As the Jewish Passover
song Dayenu, says, "It would have been
enough."
But naturally, the poem did arrive. Intact and
unbidden. I can only remember the first line any more,
"As I lie beneath the sky, I look above and wonder
why..." A perfectly respectable philosophical
speculation in the time-honored tradition of sincere
human contemplation. Of course, the poem, was completely
beside the point. What I received that night was a heady
taste of personal response-ability; a newly-discovered
sense of self-determination which stands me in good
stead to this day.
That profound lunar engagement was the first of
thousands of personal and public Celestially
Auspicious Occasions that I would celebrate in the
years to come in my capacity as a professional urban
shaman. That long-ago experience cemented my spiritual
resolve, put me on my path, and blessed me to find my
own way. Donna Susan’s Consecration Ceremony, convened
by the moon. She whispered in my ear just what I needed
to hear, "Come out, come out, wherever you
are." I complied, and have been in her thrall ever
since.
I was there. Staring in the blue crystallized moon.
The icy night wind blew me across the city. Before I knew
it I was walking on the sea. I felt as light as a feather, but
I was still there. Staring at the blue crystallized moon. The
icy night wind blew me across the sea. Before I knew it
I was floating in heaven. I felt as light as a feather but I
was still there. Staring at the blue crystallized moon. The
icy night wind blew me out of heaven. Before I knew it
I was standing there before the devil. I felt as light as
a feather. But I was still there. Staring at the blue
crystallized moon. The icy night wind blew me out of
Hell. I flew out of the world. Then I woke up. But I was
still there. Staring at the blue crystallized moon.
As it was staring at me.
--Jonathan Chang, 5th grade
© Copyright 2003
Donna Henes. All Rights
Reserved.
Donna Henes, Urban Shaman, is the editor and publisher of the highly
acclaimed quarterly, Always In Season: Living In Sync with the Cycles. She is
also the author of Moon Watcher's Companion, Celestially Auspicious
Occasions: Seasons, Cycles and Celebrations and Dressing Our Wounds In Warm
Clothes, as well as the CD, Reverence To Her: Mythology, The Matriarchy & Me.
In 1982, she composed the first (and to this date, the only) satellite peace
message in space: "chants for peace * chance for peace."
Mama Donna, as she is affectionately known, has offered lectures, workshops,
circles, and celebrations worldwide for 30 years. She is the director of Mama
Donna's Tea Garden & Healing Haven, a ceremonial center, ritual consultancy
and spirit shop in Exotic Brooklyn, New York.
For further information, a list of services and publications, a calendar of
upcoming events and a complimentary issue of Always in Season: Living in Sync
with the Cycles. contact:
MAMA DONNA'S TEA GARDEN AND HEALING HAVEN
PO Box 380403
Exotic Brooklyn, NY 11238-0403
Phone/Fax 718-857-2247
Email: CityShaman@aol.com
www.DonnaHenes.net
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