It was a full moon on Saturday night. Did you see it?

When I started writing this I realized that the week I had had and the full moon were related. Big and little things  have been moving me toward awareness and expression my Personal Magic. (Facebook ) After a period when I seem to have been in the dark, floating, impatient and anxious, there is a shift.

First, after months of effort and waiting and more effort, two local theatre companies said Yes to the Performing Wellness™ proposal I had made several months ago. They gave me a date each – consecutive weekends, two different towns. Wonderful! Except that the timeline was now so tight that I didn’t feel I could do as I had originally proposed. The stories are too precious to be thrown together.

So, I took a deep breath and offered a counter proposal. Instead of a full cast presenting these stories, I would do a one-woman version. (I had recently done a simple version at Columbia Gorge Community College in Oregon and it went very well.) They said, Yes.

The business of inviting the perfect director to join me (who said Yes), planning marketing with two co-producing companies and getting the wholehearted support of the writers whose work I am performing, has flowed along. Yes and Yes.

On Friday I met a couple in a small restaurant/coffee shop in Cottonwood. I don’t even know what I was doing there. No idea. I think I was dropping off a flyer, and I was looking for an oils shop someone has said was around there. I wandered in to ask if anyone knew where it was. There were two people at a table. They asked where I was from (my Australian dialect always attracts attention). They said ‘Do you have time to sit and talk?’

I said, Yes. One and a half hours later I left. Three sentences are still resonating within me. ‘You have let go of the grief.’ ‘You know you shouldn’t have sugar.’ ‘You didn’t leave the planet.’ (Two of these I know, one I have this faint stirring of an inkling. More to uncover.)

I felt blessed, opened and soothed. In this gentle, free ranging conversation with Victor and Vicky I had been reminded that there is more out there with which to connect, and that something taking care of me in ways that I can never know.

My little grey horse who had finally learned to go to the horse trailer has never mastered the art of coming off. She barrels backwards, dreading the drop off the edge, but too anxious to slow down. She tried to slow down on Wednesday, she really did, but then panicked as the edge seemed so far from the ground, her hoof dangling off into the abyss. She couldn’t turn around and so in that Arabian way, as she went off the edge, she threw her head up, catching it on the top of the doorway.

Today, Sunday, I thought I’d see if I could encourage her to go back on. I walked in first, held the rope loosely and turned to face her. She watched me carefully, she steadied her anxious breathing even though I could see her heart beating hard and fast through the shine of her sleek coat.  She paid attention to me. We took our time.

I had the horse treats but soon realized it was not the treats that rewarded her. It was my pleasure and pride in her efforts. It was not the treats that calmed her as she stood, her front half in the narrow space, it was my rubbing her head and smiling at her. She went on and off quietly a few times, from that half way position. I did not ask her to come all the way in. Slow and steady, let her head heal, let her realize that she has to make a decision not to rush. I learned that if I put my hand on her forehead as she goes backwards it reminds her to keep it down. She left there relaxed and happy to be with me.

And yesterday, I got an email. I had written a letter to someone, a letter that while it was not easy to write would have been hard to receive. I put an old fashioned envelope in the blue box outside the post office.  I had to literally let it go and then wait…

The email arrived 4 days later. It was thoughtful, appreciative, saying time was needed to think it through. We are friends. Our friendship is withstanding the pressures we are putting it under. I am grateful.

These all seem related somehow. What is the common thread in these experience? Being in the moment. Saying yes. Being open. Not having to win. Taking a chance.

Saying yes to the theatres meant leaping over the voice that said ‘You can’t do that! Who do you think you are?’ It meant trusting the stories and my capacity. The performance will take care of itself. To be nurtured, I simply had to be open to sitting and listening in a coffee shop. I let go of what else I had thought I’d do that day. I didn’t have to win anything to let an anxious little grey horse take her time. I was open to her needs and signals and we were both happy at the end. I took a chance with my heart open to write to a dear friend. The friendship has deepened.

It was a full moon Saturday. Did you see it? I love the moon. I sit in her light and know that it is the sun’s light she reflects to me at night. She is like my life. A rhythmical ever-repeating pattern of filling and emptying. A presence that doesn’t seek to win, knows her time will come and go, and that she will always be back.

Say yes to the gifts that come, and you will always come back to yourself.