Pleiades
On our recent road trip, we had the joy of being under many crystal clear pitch-black skies, exposing the millions of blankets of millions of stars to take in. James is a fabulous star gazing companion, as he knows many of the names of the constellations, which I’ve mostly forgotten since childhood. As we stood out under the sky on the steps of our glamping tent in Moab, we stared in awe. In awe of the layers and layers and layers of galaxies & constellations. And as I gazed, I asked James about the fragile little cluster that looked like lace made of stars. He said it was Pleiades. I don’t recall ever hearing of this constellation before, though my memory sometimes fails me. :)
Regardless, I fell in love that night with Pleiades and its delicate form. And while it’s quite visible from earth, it hasn’t stood out to me in the past. It felt like a bit of a “souvenir” from our time with the sky that evening, that I’ll always be able to look up and remember that night in Moab.
This place was magic. Highly recommend it if you’re ever in the area. It’s on Airbnb here.
Yesterday we checked into the Lodges on Vashon, for our quarterly spiritual retreat with some friends. In our lodge, we were welcomed with a journal, and a little postcard from our dear friend Kirsten. It was pretty dark in the room when I read the note, but when I woke up this morning, greeted by light streaming in, I looked more closely at the card. It was an image of the Pleiades, and the irony felt like such a sweet gift. ✨
“The Pleiades,” plate 8 from “Photographs of Nebulae and Clusters Made with the Crossley Reflector”by James Edward Keeler, 1908.
In Kirsten’s note, she included this quote by Sue Monk Kidd -
“Whenever new life grows and emerges, darkness is crucial to the process. Whether it’s the caterpillar in the chrysalis, the seed in the ground, the child in the womb or the True Self in the soul, there’s always a time of waiting in the dark.”
Without going into too much detail, as there’s more I need to process, this past season has felt like an emergence from the dark. Between COVID, quarantine, the often difficult winter weather in the Northwest, and a few other personal things, this past year or so has been really challenging. It has pushed me to explore my faith, and reflect more soulfully in new ways, as it’s felt like “essential business” for my mental and spiritual self. And this process of reflection and seeking light from some dark places has sometimes felt long, and I’ve gotten a little impatient at times.
But it also has felt like those nights when the sky is so clear I see more and more and more the longer I wait. The longer I stare into the darkness…
The more I wait, the more I see.
P.S.
Here’s a snap from where I’m musing this morning at the Lodges. Thankful for the colors of autumn and the chirping of the birds.
