The story of a full moon

About how to navigate the storms of life

The moon over the bay when the wind was calming down

‘I feel really challenged by this full moon,’ I tell my partner during our monthlong sailing trip on the Ionian Sea. I am menstruating, my body is bleeding I am in severe pain while the full moon is rising to its peak. It is a heavy one for me. And I feel it in every part of my body ànd soul.  

While full moons are known as making you feel ecstatic, the only feeling I have is one of a dark hole, one I don’t seem to get out of… I can’t get myself to meditate or reflect on what is happening. I can’t feel, I don’t want to move, and I want to hide from the man I love so dearly. A man who is standing next to me, trying to hold my hand during this heavy period.  

The boat is small for my darkness and his patience. I feel the need to be alone, but we are anchored in a bay and far from the shore. There is no escaping… We have to get through this… I try to create my own space, while I feel the need to be different than how I feel. Being together gives me the challenge of completely embracing what and how I feel, not wanting to change anything. But it seems that I am still trying to make things different.

I am definitely fighting the here and now.

As the full moon rises above the bay I decide to go to bed and have an early night. Which doesn’t seem to work… I am to tense and I feel the wind increasing. It is crying and keeping me awake. And then suddenly everything changes.

Before I realise what is really happening I am out of bed, in action mode. The boat is rocking on the waves, which can only mean one thing… The anchor isn’t holding anymore, we have to react.  

While I try to bring everything into place inside (so things won’t fall and break) Peter climbs out of the cabin. And before I know it, he is back inside, shouting and bleeding. When he wanted to step out, the spray hood (that was down) catched the wind and landed against his nose…

For a moment I don’t know what to do, I am afraid that he will loose consciousness, will need a doctor and that I have to do this all on my own.

I step outside and look around me. The wind is really blowing, this wasn’t expected, but now we have to deal with it. I turn on the engine, while Peter is getting back on his feet. He is still bleeding, but the wound is superficial (so no need for a doctor to do any stitching), and his nose doesn’t seem to be broken…

I sigh and am relieved as Peter takes over the lead on how to handle our loose anchor. In the meantime I try to surrender to the here and now. For an hour we are rocking, moving back and forth, trying to keep a safe distance from the other boats. In this case I am happy with Peter being the rockstar he is. He keeps his calm, so the only thing I have to do is trusting that he knows what he is doing and follow his orders.

Because I feel I really have no clue what to do… I watch what he does, until he gives me the steering wheel. I take over and feel actually quite calm. I follow his example, keeping our nose in the wind.

During this hour I constantly tell myself that we are safe and that we can handle the situation. As the storm subsides, we check whether the anchor has gotten its grip again. We are lucky… The anchor feels steady again and we wait until it feels safe enough to go back to bed. I go first, tired, restless and feeling uneasy that Peter will stay up with his painful nose. But I am still menstruating, my body hurts and I can’t keep my eyes open anymore.  

The next morning Peter wakes up happy, he has slept quite peaceful, but I am a mess. I didn’t sleep well, the adrenaline still running through my veins and the fear of another storm still on my mind.  
’I don’t know how you do this,’ I tell him. ‘I can’t just let it go, I am still fearful of another storm and my body isn’t as far as my mind is I guess.’  
’I just let it go, it is in the past, can’t change it anymore and we never know what else is coming. Try to leave it be. You learned a new lesson and I did too.’ 

As I look at him, I know it, I learned a few valuable lessons. Before we started this trip, I made a commitment to myself. I wanted to become friends with the wind. I wanted to not be afraid anymore. And what I felt that night was that even the strong winds were blowing, I was less afraid. I didn’t like it, but I knew we could work with the wind. 

The rest of the day I could have done two things. I could have let myself step into the fear of the wind and stay in, but I realised that I had to step out of it. So, as we decided on a plan for the day, I decided to set sail to Ithaka. Because even though the wind would be strong, I needed to take the steering wheel in my own hands again. We had a beautiful sail, with strong winds, and I kept steering the boat through the wind, feeling capable of doing this…  

This is another personal post on how things in your life are always a metaphor of what is happening inside you. Let me know in the comments how you navigate the storms in your personal life.

Completely calm sea the next morning…