One week ago, our moon became a figurative superstar (not to be confused with a super star, which is a description more suitable for the sun*). For one night — actually more like three nights — our regular-hum-drum-nothing-to-see-here moon got an upgrade and became … *cue dramatic trumpet fanfare* Super Moon!
In case you live under a rock and missed it, the super moon is bigger and brighter than the regular moon that smiles down at us every night. It’s the closest our moon has ever swooped past our Earth since Jan. 26, 1948 (an excellent date by the way, I turned exactly -43 years old), and it won’t come this close again for another 18 years.
All this was plenty exciting for that one night, and it provided some excellent fodder for deep, meaningful conversations the following day.
Me: Hey You!
Me: How are you?
You: Good. You?
Me: Good …
*painful awkward silence. somebody say something … anything … saysomethingsaysomethingsaysomething*
Me: Hey, did you see the super moon last night?
You: Oh yeah! That was cool.
But after the novelty wore off and Super Moon reverted back to Plain Old Regular Moon, I felt kind of sad for that little hunk of rock. Who’s to say our moon isn’t beautiful even without its super status?
I for one always enjoy searching for the moon at night. When life is too overwhelming with its disappointments and outrage and injustice and heartbreaks, I look up and see the moon floating in a sea of stars, and I remember that the God who created every one of those stars also created me.
Somehow that is calming. And for a moment, though it doesn’t fix any of the aforementioned life problems, it is enough.
It also reminds me of this quote from a cheesy movie 14-year-old Me used to love:
The moon isn’t just a rock … it’s a little piece of magic that comes out every night, even when times get hard to remind you that every day holds potential for beauty.
The Perfect Man (2005)
I love that.
A regular moon is no less beautiful than a super moon, but it sometimes takes a super moon to remind us to look up.
*To be fair, the sun has its positive attributes as well, but I tend to think of it as the moon’s flashier cousin with an I-have-arrived kind of attitude. You don’t need a reminder to look for the sun. You feel its presence before you see it. And much like a “bragadocious” showoff, it’s best not to give the sun your direct attention. Trust me; it’s got enough of an ego boost with the whole solar system revolving around it.