The Moon In My Rearview Mirror
By Risa Mason
M
y beloved grandmother was content to sit on a porch for hours engaged in storytelling, while I struggled to remain still long enough to listen. Deeply aware of the special gift of her healthy and vibrant presence in my life, I promised myself to spend more time with her, listen more attentively, and put my own agenda aside in order to enjoy her company. Caught up in the rhythm of daily life and the intricacies of my youthful self-absorption, romantic woes, building a business and searching for Mr. Right, the years flew by and grandma’s body began to break down. I now find myself missing her hugs, her unconditional adoration and the sound of her laughter with a longing that stings my soul..
During our weekly drives together to the traditional Sunday family suppers at my mother’s home, grandma would delight in the details of my private life. “Darling, what ever happened to that nice fellah you were dating” she would ask with eager anticipation, and I would brush aside her heartfelt question, feeling like a fly under a microscope and yearning to be alone with my thoughts. I knew she could see straight through my eyes into the depths of my soul, and this feeling of transparency filled me with the urge to run and hide from her knowing glance.
One hot sunny day in mid-summer several years before she died, I decided to surprise grandma with an impromptu afternoon visit. I found her sitting at a public swimming pool next door to her apartment building trying to ease her loneliness by watching the children swim and play. In that rare moment of connection I was overcome with feelings of love and empathy for her. I now ask myself, why was it so difficult for me to sit still with her, to truly listen, to cast aside my own schedule and quiet my mind in order to enjoy those precious moments together?.
My mother fought her own demons in the final years of caring for grandma. Can you believe I drove to 10 different stores trying to find the her the “right” kinds of onions and pantyhose!” My mother would moan to me during one of our many gripe sessions involving grandma’s highly specific requests. “Well at least you didn’t have to spend 45 minutes at the supermarket while she examined every single potato”, I would reply with a snicker. Usually these conversations ended with laughter, but beneath the lighthearted banter was a shared understanding that grandma would not be with us forever..
What are the deepest voices of a woman’s soul, and why is it so difficult for us to stop the noise for long enough to listen? As I sit on my back porch looking out over the marsh on this balmy morning in early May, I am finally allowing myself to listen to the faintest whispers of my own soul. Several years ago, after a long-term relationship and months spent planning the wedding of my dreams, I experienced a broken engagement. I allowed myself to break open to the pain, and entered into a long period of spiritual stagnation. I questioned my work, relationships, my own self and the life choices I had made. Derailed and fragmented as my life veered off course, I considered a geographic relocation and entered into a series of short-term meaningless relationships that left me feeling lonely and disillusioned..
As a psychologist, I enjoy witnessing young women’s lives evolve and transform. There was one young woman in my practice who had a particularly profound impact on me. During the course of my own grief and despair, I watched her life take shape as she healed deep childhood wounds, changed career paths, blossomed in her marriage and experienced the joys of pregnancy and parenting for the first time. In the course of our work together, I became aware of a mounting ache inside my own heart. Bearing witness as she busted through her wall of fear in order to align with her soul, I recognized my own longing to do the same..
Just last week, I dared myself to step into my wedding gown for the first time since the broken engagement. As I stood on the platform in the bridal shop and gazed at my reflection in the full-length mirror, I recalled my mother sitting in a chair several years prior, watching as I stood in the exact spot for the second fitting of my gown. I remembered with sadness the deep fear and concern in her eyes, sensing my relationship with my fiancé was in trouble and my hopes and dreams were about to come crashing down around me. In my reflection I saw myself as a slightly older version of the bride-to-be from several years ago. In my own eyes I saw loss and despair, pain and regret, yearning and aching, renewal and hope. In this moment I felt more alive than I had in years. Finally aware of my ability to heal and my endless reservoir of hope, faith and love, I found my mother not in the chair behind me but inside myself. As the faintest of whispers echoed from deep within my soul, this time I remained still long enough to listen. The whispers became more audible as they told me to stop running, embrace stillness, release fear and allow the love back in..
As a small child I marveled at how the moon would follow the car, always appearing directly overhead. “The moon wears a seatbelt”, my grandfather explained, and I would try to visualize the glowing sphere fastened securely into a car seat, riding along a parallel interstate in the sky. My grandfather was a creative and playful man who understood the magic of a child’s perspective. Perhaps the pain we all experience stems from faulty perspective brought on by a sense of misalignment, or alienation from the voices of our own soul. In order to act genuinely and authentically from or deepest core, we must allow ourselves to remain still for long enough to hear the answers that already lie within us..
The child in my heart reminds me that stars in the night sky are diamonds, moons can wear seatbelts and relationships can be reborn. As I am becoming more mindful in the present and releasing my ties to the past and the future, I find myself finally ready to live deeply and wholeheartedly and claim the joy and fulfillment my grandmother left behind. Recently as I was driving alone late at night, I caught the reflection of a full moon in my rearview mirror. Memories of my grandfather flooded my mind, and I swear, the moon followed me all the way home..
Risa Mason is a licensed clinical psychologist in private practice in Charleston, S.C. She specializes in coaching women towards inner peace and fulfillment by teaching them how to live, dream and thrive. You may contact her for individual or group coaching, or public speaking engagements at 843-769-0444.
