Looking out of my window as my eyes take a final glance at the day, I see a perfect circle, sometimes white, sometimes blue, sometimes bright orange, peeking out of the streaks of powder across the night sky. I feel as if I am a silent creature in the night, an invisible cat on an open plain, searching for something. Searching for the feeling of serenity, of law and order.

It was one night, not too long ago, that I finally found my ultimate prize. After a long, unproductive day, I was ready for my nightly mission to begin. Every night I watch the moon, waiting for something great to happen. Every night something does – I slowly continue unraveling my string of life, and begin to smooth out rough patches in the fabric of my time. I start to catch all that is thrown my way. But that one night, not too long ago, I found an even better prize.

That night, the moon was special, a rarity. It was a full orange circle, not a sphere, like a two-dimensional orange. Many nights it’s just a silver sliver, a tear in the quilt of night, revealing the next day. This extraordinary moon hung onto the nothingness of night, while blue, powdery fingers stretched all across the darkness. Three of these fingers clung onto the moon. Vivid orange on a soft blue… beautiful.

Searching, searching were my eyes on the glorious moon. Trying to find the prize that would help me unravel my string. Ahh… there it was. I felt my sight dance across the few visible stars, eyes peering through the restraining fingers. I feel as if the intangible weight of night and day has been lifted off of my shoulders.

Suddenly, there is movement on the moon. The dance of my eyes stops abruptly, so that the stars now reflect in my eyes, but my eyes not on the stars. I wonder, Have I now grown up? Will I ever be able to dance over the stars again? Is my string of life unraveled to a point where I just need to find the small knots and untie them? A feeling of horror washed over me. Is this really the end of my nights of refreshing unraveling?

I see the movement again. I gaze at the moon intently, unmoving, watching. The familiar force field of silence surrounds me. I wait. Continue, I tell the moon. Ever so slowly, the bright orange moon starts sliding underneath the fingers towards the top of the dome of night. Slowly. I observe the grace of it; I bask in its felicity. Now, I truly understand. No, I have not fully unraveled my string. All these nights of unraveling were only to prepare me for this moment. I was simply getting ready to perform my dance to friends, family, and everyone else. I was getting ready to teach them how to unravel their string. It was a new step in my life. Taking on this role was the new step. The movement of the moon told me it was time to learn a new dance. I had become a watcher of the moon. I would dance the dance of a new life. The dance of a Moon Watcher.