Reflections on a Vocational Happenstance
Suddenly this feels like a strawberry summer.
First there were the freshly picked local strawberries at our most recent farmer's market. Of course we have had strawberries at the market in summers past, but there was something especially sweet about their appearance on the scene last Friday. A tenderness hung in the air, carried along somehow with the cheerful red berries piled gently into green pulp baskets. Optimism by the quart, it felt like that.
Then last night came a full strawberry moon coinciding with the summer solstice. We sat outside to watch it rise, to behold its light flooding our small field. Rare to see the clouds so clearly at night, with the wind's unseen hand moving them like Matisse rearranging pieces for his Cut-Outs.
The strawberry moon is the sixth moon of creation, and its medicine is reconciliation. Now is the time to welcome everyone home, regardless of their differences, a time to let go of judgement and self-righteousness.
I wish more people had been sitting out of doors last night to see that moon rise, to feel the summer wind, and to recognize the vast mysterious workings of the universe. Our nation desperately needs this special moon's medicine. Right now, particularly, we need optimism by the quart and wide open fields of reconciliation.
We need a long strawberry summer.