Disappearing moon

Like the moon, we are asked to disappear. Not once, but many times, to be reduced, to be less than we remember being, to stand in the dark and call it a phase. We mistake emptiness for failure. But the moon knows better. It lets go of its light without arguing with the night. There is a strange mercy in becoming hollow. Nothing weighs you down there. Nothing distracts you from what remains. Fullness isn’t a reward. It’s a return. And it only happens, after we agree to be empty. long enough, to make room for light again.