My friend Melissa reminded me that the Perseid meteor shower peaks this week on August 12th and 13th in the northern hemisphere so I thought I’d share a blog I wrote a few years back about watching the night sky.
If you’d like to see the show, look toward the Perseus constellation. I use an app called Sky Guide to make it easy to find.
It was 10:30pm when the oppressive summer heat finally gave way to cool night air that kept the mosquitoes at bay. I plopped down on a zero-gravity chair in the middle of our deck, pushed back on the arms, and came face-to-face with a stunning, cloudless sky.
I can’t remember when I’ve seen stars so bright.
My plan was to catch the end of the Perseid meteor shower, so I settled into the chair, adjusted the pillow beneath my head, and made myself comfortable.
As I gazed up at the stars, I shifted my eyes this way and that, doing my best to take in the sky before me. I didn’t want to miss anything.
Ten minutes passed.
I focused more intently, widening my vision so I could see a broad view of the heavens without having to move my head.
Five more minutes. Nada.
There’s nothing like waiting for a shooting star to remember what “attached to results” feels like.
Be patient, I told myself (about a hundred and fifty times). Let go of any expectations and enjoy the beauty of the night.
I took a few deep breaths and let my mind wander. What’s happening out there in the wide-open spaces between the stars, I wondered? Is there anyone looking back at me? Where did all this begin anyway?
Come back, I told my busy mind, be present for this experience.
Ten more minutes passed and still no sign of a shooting star. Disappointed, I figured I missed it, so I thought about going back into the house, but something told me to stay. An inner voice urged me to appreciate the solitude, to soak up the silence, and to just be with the immense beauty of it all.
So I listened and lingered.
Over the next ten minutes or so, I melted into the Oneness before me. No agenda. No expectation. No need to see anything. Just me hanging out under the stars. And that’s when astonishment arrived.
For the next hour, I watched in amazement as the meteor shower above my head turned stardust into the most extraordinary entertainment. One meteor after another filled the night sky, some trailing long streams of light.
It was a magical experience, one I’ll always remember because I surrendered to the little voice inside.
Later that night, as I crawled into bed, I thought about that voice and how I need to pay more attention to her. “Slow down,” she tells me, “stay in one place for a while. Stop searching for what’s next all the time. Give life a chance to show up for you.”
Such sage advice from an unseen friend.
I wonder what might happen if you listened to your inner voice, and maybe stared at the stars for a while, too…