Basking in the Moonlight

Last night I lay in the dark with the curtains wide open, letting the full moon pour her light across my room.

There were no distractions. No phone. No noise inside the house. Just me and her.

She didn’t blaze or shout for attention. Her light was soft and steady, cool and silver- falling across my skin like a blessing. There was something sacred about the way she touched everything. The floor, the bedsheets, my bare arms. As though she was saying, I see you. You’re here. That’s enough.

I watched her rise higher, full and glowing, her presence quiet but powerful. There is something about the full moon that always makes me stop and soften. She is the goddess in her fullest expression. Round, radiant, unapologetically herself. She asks for nothing but shows us everything. A reminder that beauty doesn’t need to try, and power doesn’t always need to roar.

Outside, I could hear the aeroplanes. Living next to RAF Brize Norton it’s never truly silent. You’d think the noise would ruin a moment like this, but it doesn’t. The low rumble of the engines, the deep growl as the planes taxi, the distant thunder of take-off, it all becomes part of it. Somehow, it makes the night feel even bigger. It pulls my thoughts into the sky. Makes me think of stars, of space, of how vast everything really is.

And then, quieter still, I hear the hoot of a tawny owl. Far away but familiar. I look out and see the black outlines of trees, jagged and soft against the hazy summer night. The stars are faint tonight, blurred by the warmth in the air, but a few manage to twinkle through.

Nothing dramatic is happening. Just the moon, the machines, the owl, the sky.

But it feels important. Like something ancient is moving slowly through the night, and I get to witness it for a little while.

Sometimes, I forget how much I need this. Not sleep. Not to switch off completely. But stillness. The kind of stillness where you can feel your own breath, where you can hear the world around you and let it in without having to do anything with it. Just be part of it. Just be held.

The full moon doesn’t care what I got done today. She doesn’t care if I’ve been good or productive or impressive. She’s not asking me to be anything at all. She just shows up. And reminds me that I can, too.

Maybe tonight, if the sky is clear, you’ll let her light find you. Let her rest on your skin, and remind you that you are enough just as you are. You don’t need to shine like the sun. You don’t need to explain or perform or strive. You can simply lie back, breathe in the night, and let the goddess bathe you in her silver grace.

Even in the noise, even in the stillness, even in the dark, you are seen. And that is more than enough.