April 2024 Newsletter
Eclipsed
I'm off soon to see the moon and the sun embrace. On April 8, 2024, you'll find me watching the moon paddle deliberately, slowly towards a coupling with the sun.
Couplings often give birth to new life. I hope witnessing this celestial ecstasy as the moon's white arms entwine with the heat and passion of the sun will birth a new perspective.
As the time draws near, I'm a bride on her wedding day. Have I hoped for too much from this one-day event? I'm hoping for a happily ever after, but I doubt it's possible. No, more than doubt. I'm sure it isn't feasible. What, then, can I realistically aspire to gain from this pilgrimage? Because that's what this trip represents for me—a pilgrimage with all the freighted expectation of discovering some new meaning, purpose, value, or truth.
Prince Charming pronounces the whole endeavor a "folly" and "boondoggle" and will have nothing to do with the trip. He thinks I'm pretending to receive an embossed invitation from the Mad Hatter and Cheshire Cat to a tea party. He's not far from the truth. In his world, traveling to see a full, not 99.5 percent, but a total eclipse is a waste of time and money.
I suspect there's more than a grain of truth to P.C.'s declarations. The magic pixie dust of expectation has exasperated me before. Can any single anticipated event live up to the hope of finding meaning or purpose? I suspect revelations are best served cold, with little anticipation. Better that I imagine myself as the chilly moon than the hot sun.
I want to be stoic like a member of the Nordic countries, who consistently rank as the happiest people on earth. When asked why citizens of these long, dark winters are so delighted, they answered, "We don't expect much." Wonder is a dish best-served cold.
I want a good rattle, a shake to the core. I want to escape the mild discomfort of being me long enough to register the feeling. This is the opposite of expecting little.
I've been searching for the right word to describe the kind of pilgrimage I want, and doubt I'll find. I found the word in writer Joh Koening's brilliant The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. The feeling is "solysium."
Solysium, n.: Unhinged delirium of being alone for an extended period of time—feeling the hours stretch into days until a weird little culture begins to form inside your head, with its own superstitions, and alternate histories and a half mumbled dialect all your own—whose freewheeling absurdity feels oddly liberating, but makes it that much harder to reacclimate to the strictures and ambiguities of normal social life.
It's odd but true. I've spent my life questing after "unhinged delirium." It sounds mad, and I want just the tiniest taste of madness. Wouldn’t it be lovely if the happy couple serves delirium at this celestial coupling?
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April Recipe: Iced Raspberry Pink Moon Milk
The full moon on April 23 is called the Pink Moon. It’s the first full moon of spring. Northern Native Americans named April's full moon the pink moon after a species of early-blooming wildflower.
The raspberries are low-carb. Cardamom is good for joint pain, blood circulation, and relieving gas and bloating. Ginger and nutmeg are good for gut health. Allspice and cinnamon are good for inflammation. A good for you drink that’s delicious! The fat in whole milk leaves you feeling satisfied and less hungry longer.
Iced Raspberry Pink Moon Milk
2 cups whole milk (can substitute sugar-free milk substitute like almond or soy milk)
1/4 cup fresh or frozen raspberries
1 1/2 tablespoons maple syrup
1/4 tsp cardamom (can substitute ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg or allspice)
Add all ingredients to a blender .
Blend until smooth and all is a beautiful pink hue.
Pour over ice.
Enjoy, it’s delicious!
Enquirer: Notes of Interest
Little gems I collected this month about art, literature, and nature. Many of these come from your ideas and suggestions. Drop me a note if you find or notice something that amazes and delights you.
This month, surprise, I’m exploring eclipses.
On the Tip of My Tongue
Eclipses have long terrified and inspired. Writer John Koening is brilliant at creating just the right words to “fill all the holes left in the language of emotion and give names to experiences that we all have.”
Eclipse Map
Want to experience the eclipse for yourself? It’s not far away. Check out the map. It cuts through the southern Midwest. Even if it’s cloudy, you’ll still experience much of the effect. The next total eclipse won’t happen in the US until 2045.
Ready, Set, Go
If you’re heading out to see the eclipse, NASA has a great video to get you ready.
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I can hardly wait to hear about your unhinged delirium experience! ❤️