A Moonlight Sunyata

Sunyata Zen Void

Source: Free use from Pixabay

January 1, 2021, was a day to start dreaming into existence our shared future. The outcome may remain unknown until year’s end.

I was grateful for a peaceful first day of 2021. Dutiful to tradition, I wrote down some personal “do-nots” about changes I wanted to make. They included: Do not assume any one person knows “the” whole Truth. Do not assume you are alone. Do not try to justify injustice. The real significance of the list was beyond the specific items; it was about my desire this year to become more aware of my decision-making process.

I am very fortunate to have a house with many picture windows that offer views of mountains, a river, trees and the sky. I keep all the window coverings up most of the time so I can see everything outside. At night, I see mostly black space. At the end of January 1, I turned off the lights in my main room before going to bed and, no surprise, the room became very dark. The surprise, as well as lesson, was that it took the darkness for me to notice an unusual light through a window.

The light looked like elongated gauze lit from behind. It hovered in the sky far over the mountaintops across the valley from me. Below it were small lights randomly here and there from houses on the distant mountainsides. They appeared more like stars that had fallen onto land to mark its surface and provide an elaborate perspective of the immense space.

It did not take long for me to realize that the moon, just a few days past its fullness, was the source of the expansive light. The light was stretched out by reflections from the clouds of Earth. I became mesmerized by the movement of shapes of light as the clouds slowly changed their course. At times, the clear bright moon was visible for moments before being hidden again, while its light continued to contract and spread into new shapes.

I thought about that moon, almost 240,000 miles distant from the houses below. In each of those houses, who could say what situation the people were in, given the especially difficult year of 2020. Each house had its stories, but the moon knew none of them. The moon was simply being itself, reflecting light to any who chose to look. It was spreading its beauty to Earth below like a calming balm to those suffering in the past year’s darkness. I felt that the whole scene, the whole integrated components framed in one picture window, were a metaphor for the role of light in the context of darkness. Does darkness help us see because lights within it direct our attention?

I thought, “If I had walked absentmindedly through the darkened main room to go to bed, I would have missed this beautiful display of nature.” I was standing next to my piano at that point and found myself drawn to play some music. It was too dark to see the keys, but I could feel them with my fingers as I simultaneously looked out the window at the moon’s expressive light. I decided whatever notes I felt like playing would emerge from a void, so I decided to call the tune they made “The Moonlight Sunyata¹.”

I played spontaneously, inspired by the moon. I played slowly, mostly soft, sweet phrases of notes with simple accompaniment. My heart seemed to know what my fingers needed to do. All around me the sound filled the silence as the light filled the darkness. I sat watching the visual greeting from the moon as I sent my aural greeting in return, a greeting never to be heard again. It was not recorded nor the sounds even remembered. It only existed in that present, irreproducible moment. It came out of the voidness, appeared, was experienced, then left. Though short-lived, it was like any process in the universe.

It touched me deeply to have January 1, 2021, end this magical way. The experience filled my heart with the presence of beauty, reminded me it was always available, and inspired me to stop in the midst of whatever difficulties are yet to come in 2021 so I could be in the stillness of beauty’s omnipresence. Being so reminds me that we are all connected, and we can choose to love our connections. Dark days may come but light can always be found, like a tune from an invisible keyboard, when we open our hearts to allow creative possibilities.

May each of us discover our own “Moonlight Sunyata” to greet the darkness. May each of us share our own light of beauty. May each of us assume we are not alone. May we begin this in 2021…together.

© B. A. Luceigh, January 2021

Addendum: On January 6th, I was about to post this essay on this site when the attack on the Capitol Building distracted me from doing so. I needed time to consider that latest political trauma. Today I wonder if this is the beginning of times to come in 2021 to practice finding light within the darkness.