Did you ever feel possessed by something so beyond your control that you found yourself simply going through motions like a puppet? On the night of the full Harvest Supermoon, just as the lunar eclipse was about to begin, I was writing a few blog posts in the attic – this being one of them – when I remembered the astrological event that was ensuing. Wearing a short white robe, and nothing else, I found myself walking past Andy into the backyard to see if I could see the moon.
Over the house, I spied her nestled in the boughs of a pine tree. She would be more visible from the front yard, so I went back inside and walked through the living room, unlocking the front door and quietly stepping outside.
Above the trees, she shone in radiant form, picking up the haze of the night and putting forth a glow that lit the entire sky. Entranced, I stole a few grainy pictures with my phone, then rushed back inside. I paused there, and again the only word I can think of to describe my state of mind – which was really less a state and more a complete absence of any state of mind whatsoever – was ‘possessed’ – not demonically, not maniacally, not whimsically – simply possessed by some spirit or entity that was not myself. I write this now fully aware of what I had done, but at the moment I don’t recall knowing what I was doing.
Setting the phone down on the dining room table, I slowly turned around and went back to the front door, unlocking it again. The night chirped with the music of crickets and frogs, and the moon hovered over all, casting its wondrous light on the front yard. My eyes adjusted to the dim setting, while the moon’s light seemed to grow stronger. I untied the robe from around my waist and hung it on the front door handle, then walked into the moonlight completely naked. Turning around and letting it bathe all of me, I caught a glimpse of my shadow thrown upon the house. I watched to see if it would do anything that I was not doing, but it would not be tricked into revealing whether it was indeed separate from my own self, and I was content merely to let it remind me that I was still here.
I cannot say what happened to me in those moments of nakedness beneath the full Harvest moon. Obviously, or not so obviously perhaps, I didn’t turn into a werewolf. I felt no immediate change or alteration of what I had always felt myself to be, though there was an energy and vague sense of electricity in the air when I stood there; that could have largely been imagined – the mind leading the body. But I do feel slightly different, like I’ve just crossed an abstract line of demarcation that separates what was from what will be. That too could be imagined, as well as it being any given moment on any given day. Still, that Harvest moon comes but once a year, and maybe whatever I might have harnessed or harvested will be revealed in the months to come.
For now, I watch the minute hand of the clock, and I can see it moving, as if time is suddenly speeding up, as if it wasn’t going fast enough already…
