Some evenings, my mother calls.
Have you looked at the moon tonight? She’ll ask. It’s beautiful.
I’ll look out the window or step outside. And there’s the moon, beautiful, just like my mother said. So, I stop and we both look at it for a moment, glowing its gentle, comforting glow. Hold onto this, I think. Don’t let it slip out of your mind, through your hands.
What I love about these moon phone calls is that the only point of them is to share something lovely.
It’s natural to share the big bad stuff with each other, the things that drag on our hearts. It seems a little less natural to share the small good stuff with each other. I’ve got to believe, though, that when we do that, it can’t help but enliven our hearts, and rebalance them towards delight and amazement.
So, when I remember, I try to make moon phone calls. To celebrate with someone else, if only for a moment, some of the loveliness that can easily slip through our hands.