REFLECTING THE MOON

A REFLECTIVE MEMOIR BY, REIGHAN FISHER

​As a baby my mom would bring me on car rides in effort to calm me down and help me fall asleep. The quiet music back-dropping in the car, curves of the winding road, and motion of the vehicle had a way of gently rocking me into a peaceful slumber. Once I learned to talk and take notice of the world around me, the car-rides became an adventure. I’d press my forehead against the window and make silly faces to the people who passed me. I’d always wave and smile. All races, genders and ages received an equal, sincere wave. I appreciated the human connection and daydreamed of where my newly acquainted friend might be headed. Even though this embarrassed my mom, who is much more shy than I, I appreciated her letting me wave on anyways. At night, I’d watch the moon outside the window in awe. It’s reflection illuminated the pupils of my eyes the same way fireworks reflect on a lake. The moon was my friend. I knew this because of how well it followed me around. We would play hide and seek. I was the seeker most often and this challenged me to wonder and think without boundaries. The moon would weave through the clouds and hide amongst the textures and shades of vapor. If it became lost for a while I knew not to worry, the moon would always return eventually. While I wondered where the moon went, I’d get lost in thought and ponder. I’d question the world around me and why things were the way they were. The moon's absence and returns always resulted in a new insight for me.

​“Mom how does the moon always know where we are going?,” I’d often ask. 

As a child I was curious. I asked a lot of questions and always could see the good in people. Even the ‘bad guys’ we learned about in school. Although I’ve grown up since then, I’m still the same curious girl who feels the desire to communicate with everyone and challenge people as well as myself to think past what we already know.

When I turned sixteen I made sure everything was lined up so I could drive that day. I was ready to go, to be free. The top was down in my 2001 silver Sebring convertible and my blonde hair blew in the wind as I pulled out of the rounded driveway. I watched my mother in the rear view mirror tear up. Little did she know so was I. I was leaving my nest. At that moment I realized what it meant when my parents would say, “Don’t grow up too fast.” ​

As a teenager, I’d find myself going for a drive often. When life was moving too fast, the car ride would bring me back to a place of serenity. ​
I’d glide down the roads, blast the music loud, and cruise. Nobody telling me which way to turn, which way to go. I was in control. ​When my heart was broken, when my family would fight, when people I loved passed, I’d drive. I’d stare at the moon the same way I did as a child. Just like me, the moon had different ways of expressing itself too. Sometimes it felt full and revealed itself boldly, vividly displaying it’s light for all to see. Other days the moon would appear more withdrawn and smile like the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland. On its’ best day’s the moon would glow orange-red and take up what seemed the entire sky as a it’s stage; displaying itself as a harvest moon.

When I look at the moon I am able reflect on my life. When the moon faces the sun, it reflects off of it. The moon that inspired me to seek and wonder as a child, has inspired me to inspire humanity as an adult. To reflect off of reflection makes me a mirror in a world full of whatever I make my reality out to be. Although the moon does not tangibly absorb the light from the sun, I feel that the light is absorbed through me in a way that transitions the reflection of light into a conscious understanding where the moon and human can relate. If a reflection can light up the sky, then the reflections I’ve made throughout my life while looking up at the moon could be lighting up something I’m unaware of in my heart. Like a tree absorbs carbon dioxide and produces oxygen for us, I absorb reflected light from the moon and produce understanding and awareness through thought, an ability humans are losing touch of.

​Although I understand now that the moon does not actually follow me, I appreciate my child self for using my imagination and befriending the moon. It provides light for not just me, but everyone. When I look at the moon, I think of the past, the present, and the future. I reflect on the collective moments I’ve stared up at the moon so far and how far I’ve grown since then. No matter the time, or the year of life I’m in, it’s there, aging with me, and without having to say anything, the moon’s wisdom teaches me the lessons of life by just being there.

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