Almost 17 years ago, I gave birth to the moon in my sky. I didn’t know it at the time, but this tiny creature would beckon my heart towards him with a gravitational force for which I had no defenses. Intense, deep feeling and luminous, my oldest child has been a constant presence whose moods ebb and flow with the tide. At times, he offers just a sliver of himself, but that crescent is brilliant in its clarity. And when that boy shines full and bright, I bask in his beauty and wholeness, even though I know it is a fleeting glow. I’ve gotten comfortable with the cycles of my moon, and together we ride the lower lows, the higher highs and the various ascents and declines in between. Noah, my moon, is the light I never grow tired of seeking. Although my quests are often unnecessary for he regularly finds me first.
The answer to my moon is, of course, my sun. My youngest is confident, radiant, and bold, warming all those in his presence. Even when the darkest of clouds swirl around him, I never doubt that his strength and vibrancy will prevail. And though it is easy to be drawn to him, getting close – or letting your eyes linger on him too long – is difficult. I’m not sure I will ever know how deep his fire burns or what truly fuels him, but perhaps his existence in my world is enough. He is the source of energy for our family, always beaming, seemingly unencumbered by everyday worries he probably deems too trite to acknowledge. Chase, my sun, rarely dims, leaving me perplexed as to his needs for mother earth. I stand by, just in case.
How two children brought into and raised in this world by the same people can be so polar opposite will forever be one of life’s great mysteries. They remain the strongest of presences, in my sky and in my heart. And while I adore them both in ways they may never understand, I experience them so differently, with that divide growing wider over time. One son seems to be on this earth to be studied and understood by a precious few, while the other is destined to be enjoyed by the masses. As I implore my moon to lighten up, I plead with the sun to go deeper. I’m regularly pulled in strongly by my moon while simultaneously pushed gently away by my sun. Silently, my heart speaks to them:
Share less / Say more Let it go / Hold on tight Just smile / That’s not funny I love you most / I love you mostNever in the same sky, the unique orbs my children emit and the varied shadows they cast have become the yin and yang of my existence. I stand here on earth, watching them rise and fall, day after day, in awe of their distinct impact on me and the world around them. My wonder is matched only by my gratitude, which I send to the Universe for the gift of balance I have been given. May their lives rarely eclipse one another and may their unique lights always shine bright.