I suppose it’s safe to assume that you have watched a sunset in your life. However, have you stopped to contemplate the moon, as it humbly occupies the silent absence of the sun?
No. As for me, at least. Usually, I shut the windows, close the curtains, lie myself to sleep and dream ’till the sun wakes me with the morning light, shining in its more glorious state.
For most of my life, I tried to live like the Sun. I tried to shine bright: everywhere I walked, generously (and sometimes forcibly) distributing my opinions, showcasing (and sometimes exaggerating) my talents. In living, I tried to stimulate some kind of photosynthesis in the people I interacted with, hoping that they would become fruitful human beings, and possibly add some colour to humanity too.
But the sun is not that mighty. It’s hot. It’s always hot. So hot that I find myself running away from it more often than towards it. This sun, shamelessly and ruthlessly penetrating my pores as always. This sun that prolongs the days that are already extremely long. The sun, that is so obsessed with the centre stage, that ends up dominating the skies altogether, forbidding the heavens to cry, causing farmers to weep. So intense is the sun above my head, that when it finally decides to resign, I find myself way too tired to admire the moon that comes to save me.
And I sleep. I dream. Bunking reality and attending my dreams. Not knowing that reality, under the moon, is far more fascinating than a dream. The moon, so welcoming, so warm. Inviting all the world’s wanderers: both those who wander and those who wonder.
Poets, artists, musicians that find inspiration under the moon’s harmonious whispers. Differently from the sun, a listener. Up in the sky and yet following me everywhere I go.
The moon. Keeping the sky alive and bright even though its stars are dead. Illuminating a world that consists of darkness. Setting a time where the bureaucrats’ screams become a simple symphony orchestrated by crickets.
To think that we shut our windows, close our curtains and sleep.
And so I’m learning to live my life like the Moon. Still shining, but allowing humanity to shine too. Still sharing my opinions, but not forcing them, rather, by inviting people to listen to them.
The more I acquaint myself with the Moon, the more I realize how we got it wrong.
We should sleep to the sun and wake up for the moon.
The moon has humbly accepted its role as the sidekick. But who’s the real hero?