In my time on this earth, the moon has been both entrancing in its ethereal beauty and terrifying in its mystical presence. It is the brightest light within the utmost darkness. It is a loud, blaring presence, in a world that has fallen dark and eerily quiet. I feel the most alone when I look at the moon, and I also become acutely aware that I am just a speck on this planet, one in 7 billion.


When we go through panic, anxiety, grief, terror… it’s hard to feel anything but alone. Our bodies betray us and we become prey to insidious thoughts that turn into terrorizing physical symptoms. Lately these feelings have been unavoidable. Life may give you lemons, and from that yes, you can make lemonade, but sometimes life gives you nothing but utter shit. What are you supposed to do with that? I suppose you could wait for it to dry into a husk and turn it into fertilizer, but is that not just the equivalent of wasting away until you’re recyclable?


What are you supposed to do when despite being a pro at meditative techniques, a yoga lover and exercise/nutrition fanatic you find yourself feeling lost and unraveling? Feeling like the world will indeed end in the near future. Feeling like pain, and fear are your only modes of operation.


There is no magic cure for shit luck. But tonight the moon reminds me that all the things I’m going through? All the things I’m imagining could possibly happen that haven’t and may very well not, someone is actually going through. Yes, my worst of nightmares have seemed to recur most frequently, but they have not actually come to life.


For someone else, my worst nightmares are their reality. This doesn't change my fear; it doesn't take it away. Sometimes I truly believe I wouldn’t be able to survive it if it happened. All of me doesn’t want to find out.


Knowing though that there are people, staring at this very same moon, thinking these very same thoughts, brings me a feeling of solidarity. This earth has existed before us, and will go on without us. It is unfathomably large, larger than life. It holds our very existence, and permits us to continue living the way we do.


It’s not a solution to my problems, and it’s not enough to take away my worries. But feeling a part of the collective, even sitting by the moon… it’s something, isn’t it? 

Published by Alexandra Besoi