I am back from Serpent's Kiss in Santa Cruz, where I got huge hugs, blessings, and sweet wishes for good health. I also am going to perform on Didi's birthday at the Crepe Place in a couple of weeks. And for the duration of the class, I concentrated on dancing and forgot the nausea for that space of time. I wish I could be going to Thursday night African dance as well, as I know for sure that would bring my healing forward, but it is not to be anymore, and I accept that. I still have Haitian dance I can go to on Fridays, and have a friend in my teacher and all the good and fun people there.
Dance helps me remember the strength of my body, mind, and spirit, all. Feeling my actual physical self become so strong and so flexible and capable is a big, big step forward. One can only push forward. In fact, I thought tonight as I drove home that this pushing to get back into life is like the great pushes of childbirth (I have never forgotten those), only what I birth now is this self, again.
Well, the waxing moon is ripe for stargazing, and so I am off. Curiously, the best time to observe the moon is when some of it is in shadow, for it has less glare and the shadows also define the landscape so clearly.
Speaking of the moon, I stumbled across something that NASA kept secret for a long time. It's got nothing to do with aliens (pity, that), but it is a deeply moving story with which I will sign off tonight. It gave me a deep resonance for the humility and sense of God's presence these astronauts brought with them:
On Sunday July 20, 1969 the first people landed on the moon. Neil
Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin were in the lunar lander which touched down at
3:17 Eastern Standard Time.
Buzz Aldrin had with him the Reserved Sacrament. He radioed:
“Houston, this is Eagle. This is the LM pilot speaking. I would like to
request a few moments of silence. I would like to invite each person
listening in, whoever or wherever he may be, to contemplate for a moment
the events of the last few hours, and to give thanks in his own
individual way.”
Later he wrote: “In the radio blackout, I opened the little plastic
packages which contained the bread and the wine. I poured the wine into
the chalice our church had given me. In the one-sixth gravity of the
moon, the wine slowly curled and gracefully came up the side of the cup.
Then I read the Scripture, ‘I am the vine, you are the branches.
Whosoever abides in me will bring forth much fruit.’ I had intended to
read my communion passage back to earth, but at the last minute Deke
Slayton had requested that I not do this. NASA was already embroiled in a
legal battle with Madelyn Murray O’Hare, the celebrated opponent of
religion, over the Apollo 8 crew reading from Genesis while orbiting the
moon at Christmas. I agreed reluctantly…Eagle’s metal body creaked. I
ate the tiny Host and swallowed the wine. I gave thanks for the
intelligence and spirit that had brought two young pilots to the Sea of
Tranquility. It was interesting for me to think: the very first liquid
ever poured on the moon, and the very first food eaten there, were the
communion elements."
My name is Joan McMillan and this blog is, as Emily Dickinson says, "my letter to the world." I am currently working on a nonfiction book about the murder of a young woman, Asha Veil, born Joanna Dragunowicz, and her unborn daughter, Anina, on September 9, 2006. My book is meant to honor her life and illuminate the need to create a safer world for women and children.
To read an excerpt from the book, please click on the following link:
ashaveilbook.blogspot.com
An excerpt from The Pleasure Palace, my romantic comedy, can be found here:
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