Following Moon Shadows

I miss Cat Stevens. I saw him in concert in college; he and his piano rose up out of the stage. Or was that John Denver? And a guitar? I do remember Robert Louis Stephenson and his Garden of Verses: “I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me. What can be the use of him is more than I can see.” One of the few poems I memorized as a child.

I love shadows. They are temporary art. Found art, Dori would say. You happen upon them, enjoy them, and then they shift, disappear, maybe come back at exactly the same time the next day. Or not, depends on the clouds. The thing about your own shadow is that you can’t hold onto it. You see it; it’s just there, right in front of you. Tantalizing then taunting you. You follow it, chase it, and it stays just ahead of you. You turn and it jumps behind you, and follows you until you turn again.

“Beware that you do not lose the substance by grasping at the shadow.” (Aesop) 

Dreams are kind of like shadows. You think you see exactly where you are supposed be and you follow what looks like the path--what you thought you saw--but you can't ever quite get to the destination you envisioned. Dreams have a way of being not quite specific, and full of obstacles. My sister has a dream--a calling, she says. It's not coming to pass exactly the way she has been hearing it. Callings are a little shadowy, too--by intention, I think. Perhaps the One Who is More is into shadow games. Having a spot of fun with us. Perhaps She just puts the shadow out there and leaves it to us which way to turn. If we try to take it too literally, to grab the shadow and not let it get away, we lose the part we were meant to hold onto.

Have you ever thought about the fact that shadows are always shades of gray? Their "colors have all run dry." Life is the trip that is in full spectrum Kodachrome, not the shadow. And life pretty much never takes the path we planned, or saw ahead of us. The sun shifts, the big tree gets in the way, a cloud casts a shadow. But if we keep the sun at our back the shadow can be our guide, it can keep us grounded; our feet and the shadow's feet are always together. Even if we turn around, it is behind us, pushing us onward. Or beside us, walking with us; our feet always together. I want to tell my sister to look down another path; don't cling to the one you're on. Let go. God will go with you.

Charly returned to snowy Colorado this week. She has been touring Europe for ten weeks; five weeks with a friend, and five weeks alone. Except she was never alone. She made friends wherever she went. And she kept bumping into the same people in very different places. She met people from other countries; and she met people from Colorado and California, where she grew up. One attended her school's rivalat the same time she was a high school

student! That person, from across the room in a Croatian restaurant, recommended the squid. She stayed in hostels--some decent, many not-so-much. For two nights she stayed in a regular hotel, and met no one. She could hardly bear the loneliness. As I read that blog post, I found myself thinking that is what I would gravitate toward--stay where I will meet no one, and stay away from places where I would have to engage. Yeah, be my shadow instead of my Self. People like Charly will save the world. (I know, you are thinking, "It must be nice..." Let me assure you that Charly has very little money; just different priorities about what is important. Choices we can all make in our own way. This is her way.)

There is a man who keeps coming to the Cafe on Sunday mornings. He has decided that I am a good person to talk at. He is a world famous photographer-- as he likes to tell me at every encounter. He launches into accolades of himself each week and, though he knows I write and I have showed him two of my own photographs that happened to be on my screen when he approached, he never asks about my work. How not to be a Charly. My theory is  he didn’t get affirmation as a child, now he pushes praise for himself on every captive audience. Still trying to convince himself of self-worth. (And here he comes; time out.)

The cold came this weekend--early. And, for now, I expect temporary. While it is raining lovely rain, I get my bathroom cleaned, and that feels kind of good. I am disappointed when the sun comes out in the afternoon. I do go out, though, for a tour of my garden. Daffodils are emerging. And I discover that the Lenten Rose that seemed to be dying has new growth pushing out of the ground at its center. You just never know what will come up when you push aside the old ideas of what "should be." But I want to be inside on this first cold day. I create a Cat Stevens station on Pandora, light candles, have tea with Laura, then wrap in my afghan.

I have had this quote on my page of Things I Save for My Blog since the season-ending episode of Grey's Anatomy last spring: "The worst deception we practice is on ourselves. Which is why sometimes it takes us a while to realize that the truth has been in front of us the whole time." That shadow is right there in front of us. The deception is that it is the truth; but it has no color, it is just a guide--a friend. We are the ones with the movable feet. It goes with us, not us with it. All we have to do is stay in the Light as we explore the twists and turns.