You went moon gazing last night.  You sat on the front lawn of your family home and simply gazed at this perfectly ripe orb, full of the promise of harvest, of cleansing and rebirth, of inward reflection.  You watched as it grew more golden in the late-night sky, covered only by thin, stray clouds like frayed ribbons drifting over its upturned face.

You let its light wash over you, bathe you in the mythology of the moon, settle your mind and refresh your soul.  And when you finally turned your gaze from that moon and made your way home, it was to dream deeply, letting its light filter through your window and into your dreamscape.

It has been almost a year since you have opened yourself to a better way of living, of dreaming, of being.  A year since you began diligently working on doing less, on recovering from the addiction of busyness.  A whole year since you learned to have time for the moon and embrace the bounty of its wisdom.  Each month it waxes and wanes in its own time, its own pace. So you too continue to learn how to grow into the fullest expression of yourself and take the time you need to take to listen to who you are.

And who you are is a woman who bathes in the moonlight and cultivates the quiet essential to her well-being.  The moon, as if to emphasize this realization, is there to greet you on your waking.  It has watched over you as you dreamed through the night and is there looking over you again in the morning; heavy and golden in the sky as you make your way to work, only the two of you are awake in the city.