As much as it grieves me to admit this... I am a sensitive person. I think "grief" is the correct word. Maybe embarrassed? Hesitant? Scared? It's a vulnerable thing to admit to myself much less to you guys. That's also assuming that I've kept it a secret, which is really more like I didn't want to believe it while those around me see it everyday. Being honest with myself, then, I admit it - I'm a dote.
A good dote... but a dote.
Over this past year the heavens have hosted a series of "super" moons... meaning that the moon is pretty dang close to the planet. At the risk of sounding super new-agey, this has meaning for me, personally. And it can be scientifically based for those of us who need a little more concrete data.
Let's think about it, the moon is known to regulate the tide and swells of the water. The human body is made up of a lot of stuff, mostly water. So, to me, new-agey-ness aside, it makes sense that the human body would equally be affected by the moon and it's phases. It's our own awareness of this that gets muted and dulled.
Ask any hospitalist, case manager or nurse's assistant that works within facilities and hospitals... a full moon means an influx of activity. Perhaps police officers and rescue squads may agree? The moon affects us because, well, we are walking bodies of fluid.
The moon is also attributed to having an ebb and flow on emotions... the feely kind. I was a grade-school-ankle-biter when I noticed that the ocean looked angry... it was choppy and brusque and foamy. Along the same page, a calm, lapping pond elicits feelings of peace and tranquility. Religious and lyrical writings alike use similar imagery of water to emulate emotion. The moon, that dynamic orb of rock in the sky, has a direct influence.
What does this have to do with my belly? Two words: emotional eating. I do it. I have since I was wee. It's an instantly gratifying activity that distracts as much as it comforts. A mixture of flavors and textures and immediate enjoyment, eating is a one-way-ticket to instant paradise for me.
Combine this with normal life ups and downs, and this practice becomes a best friend... always there to lift you up and hold you when stress or sadness or anything less-than-okay knocks on your proverbial door. It's just an eye-opener... and invitation to look deeper into myself. I want to discover the why and how that this has become such a second-nature happenstance for me...
So I talked to the moon last night. I said - Hey you, big beautiful glowing rock thing... if you have sway on the who's and what's of my emotions, would you mind showing me how to respond differently? I mean, it's cool that you can wreak havoc on my psyche and stuff, but uh... give me a surf board or something okay?
Maybe the moon is just showing me what I already know about myself... the food does not have to be a "weakness"... it is a strength. My response is the challenge to make choices that actually feed by body; to be mindful of when I'm just putting on a band aid re: circumstance or stress or boredom.
Sometimes I think she mocks me, the moon. But last night, she smiled as said "Be gentle with yourself. You're learning a lot."
So I went out to eat Mexican with some friends. Also, I had two Sangrias. My belly was so entirely full and expanded that it was as if the moonbeams crawled inside to make a baby super moon. And as I gazed up at that lunar sphere from the parking lot, I smiled and said, "Well played you punk. Well played."
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