Full moon means reunion. On the next blue moon, I will be singing and playing moon songs with my ukulele pals in London. Elsewhere, on Maui, someone will be snapping photos of the full moon and declaring his undying love before a Netflix movie.
Likewise, we anticipate dates that are meaningful. Anniversaries such as birthdays (especially those that end in the magical zero) and the beginning or end of a relationship are significant demarcations in our lives. March 30th, the day before the blue moon, is such a day. Seven years ago on Maui, after sight-reading new compositions submitted for my call for scores, I walked out of the building that bears my name and spotted someone wearing a name tag walking towards me. Were it not for the name tag, I would not have put a face to his name on an email list. That meeting might never have happened.
Every full moon, I search for that bright spherical shape in the night wherever I am. It’s not always visible in the cloud-covered skies of London and Boston. Every St Patrick’s Day, I savour the home cooked Irish meal as I prepare my own thematic concert or ukulele jam session. Every 30th of March, I recall the name tag that led to the discussion of a birthday party that never happened. These are the rituals of our lives. Only the lonely and the sentimental have such nostalgic longings.
On Maui, full moons and high tides regulate the ebb and flow of life in paradise.