Thursday, March 9, 2017

Moon Cycles

Terry Tempest Williams, an American author, conservationist, and activist, draws inspiration for her writing from her homeland of Utah and her Mormon culture.  Her memoir, Refuge: An Unnatural History of Family and Place, draws parallels between the flooding of the Great Salt Lake and the devastation at Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, to her journey through the ravaging effects of breast cancer on her family and her relationship with the environment.  Her memoir presents her relationship to nature and throughout her memoir she refers to the moon in personal ways.  Each mentioning is intentional and conveys an important idea, so I have taken the liberty of bolding each appearance of “moon.”

Terry first mentions the moon in the chapter entitled “Magpies.”  As she is discussing her mother’s strength, she says, “Today, I feel stronger, learning to live within the natural cycles of a day and to not expect so much from myself.  As women, we hold the moon in our bellies.  It is too much to ask to operate on full-moon energy three hundred and sixty-five days a year.  I am in a crescent phase.  And the energy we expend emotionally belongs to the hidden side of the moon” (Williams 136).  Upon doing a little bit of digging, I discovered that the moon is often associated with femininity, not just regarding monthly cycles, but the cycles of life. 

Terry is in awe of her mother who seems to have learned this, to live each day to its fullest and not worry about tomorrow.  Her imagery is quite beautiful in this passage.  I agree, using “full-moon” energy 365 days a year is too much to ask, as we will become burned out, tired, and frustrated.  Terry explains that she is in a “crescent phase” and that the emotional energy expended appears on “the hidden side of the moon.”  Even when we are not expending physical energy, we typically continue to expend emotional energy, particularly in times of stress.

Another interesting occurrence of “moon” references appear in the “Curlews” chapter: “But the flipside of darkness is light.  The new moon is also the resurrected moon, soon to be crescent, quarter, then full.  It is the time in many cultures to sow seeds.  During the waxing moon all those things that needed to grow are attended to.  In the dark of the moon there is growth.  Plants do not flourish in the noonday sun, but rather in the privacy of the new moon” (Williams 146).  This passage struck me in a personal way because as a child, I always wondered at what point in the day plants grow.  I remember sitting and staring at the seeds I planted, willing for them to grow in front of me (innocence of a child), but my patience was never rewarded. 

In a way, this new moon privacy can be related to the personal growth of a woman.  Terry’s mother is an excellent example.  During her final years with her cancer, she comes to terms with death, but does not let the fact that she will inevitably die stop her from enjoying the days she has left.  There is a lot of emotional growth occurring inside of her that is not always visible from the outside, similar to a plant growing in the dark of night.

The idea of a “resurrected moon” returns after the passing of Terry’s mother.  In what appears to be a journal entry, Terry states, “A full moon hung in a starlit sky.  It was Mother’s face illuminated” (Williams 232).  This is not the first time that Terry compares the moon to a mother.  Prior to her mother’s death, Terry observes “One night, a full moon watched over me like a mother” (Williams 189).  It makes sense that Terry would compare the moon to her mother because both are watchful over their “children.”

The full moon marks the end of a cycle, in this instance, the cycle of Terry’s mother’s life.  This must bring comfort to Terry, to visualize her mother watching over her as a “full moon.”

The final profound passage I’d like to reflect on appears in the curlew chapter: “Maybe it is not the darkness we fear most, but the silences contained within the darkness.  Maybe it is not the absence of the moon that frightens us, but the absence of what we expect to be there” (Williams 146).  Instances such as this demonstrate how Terry becomes more introspective, truly discovering who she is.  This passage connects well with the following which seems to be a turning point for Terry: “I am slowly, painfully discovering that my refuge is not found in my mother, my grandmother, or even the birds of Bear River.  My refuge exists in my capacity to love.  If I can learn to love death then I can begin to find refuge in change” (Williams 178).
 
These two passages demonstrate Terry’s personal growth in just a few chapters.  She goes from believing that it is the absence of what we expect to be there that we fear the most, to acknowledging that her refuge, or what she expects to be there, is not in her mother, grandmother, or the birds, her refuge exists in her capacity to love.  What a beautiful transformation.

Terry’s close relationship to the environment is apparent throughout Refuge.  She acknowledges the importance of the moon’s cycles, both in relation to nature and a women’s life cycles.  The passages quoted may seem like small instances, but Terry included them intentionally to underscore the significance of the moon in life.

Works Cited
Williams, Terry Tempest. Refuge: An Unnatural History of Family and Place. New York: Vintage Books, 1991.

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