27 Mar

The moon was huge the other night. It was one of those moons that is scary in its beauty, its awesomeness a sure sign that it had fallen off its normal path in space and was headed straight towards Earth. Matt and I sat at the dinner table, silent and staring, me being sure that within the hour the moon would take down the mountains and palm trees and crash into the big picture window in front of us. None of the other core members or assistants seemed to be aware of the risk we were facing. They weren’t lucky enough to have the seats with the view.

As we ate our soup and salad, it seemed absurd to me that the moon could be seen by anyone else on the planet. The perfection of its positioning in front of our window made me sure that the moon was putting on a show just for us, a private screening in honor of something good we must have done that day. It was similar to the way you can stumble upon waterfalls in rivers and clearings in forests and feel pride in believing you were the first to have discovered nature. Although you know this couldn’t possibly be true, you feel all the more happy in knowing that others have shared in this secret of the Earth as well. I wonder if anyone else stumbled upon the moon that night, eating dinner, looking out the window, claiming individuality in the shared experience.

There is something unifying about the moon. Besides the sun, it is the only thing we can be sure reaches every person’s view every single day. No matter the differences we find around the world in politics, attitudes, sentiments, or values, the moon offers itself as a common landscape. It defies borders and oceans, unconcerned about the wars and hostility and lines we draw across our bedroom floors and hearts. It ignores time zones and schedules, my mom assuring me during stays away from home that, no matter the distance between us, we would always be looking at the same moon. And as long as the next harvest moon doesn’t succeed in making its way into my dining room, this is a permanent point of connection for humanity.

This is not to say that we all see the same moon in the same way. I was looking at the moon through a window, a very different window from the window I looked at it through only a week previous. Now in Orange County, I look through a window placed between walls and trees and grass and wood floors that make up a home with a history I don’t know yet but will soon become a part of. How many times has this window seen Stephanie gardening in the front yard, Sarah not understanding why Stephanie can’t hear her yelling through the glass? Mary looking at housing prices and watching for the bus? Bowls of cereal with the sunrise?

Stained with the struggles, questions, dreams, and hopes of those that have looked through it for countless years, this window serves as a lens to the universal landscape with a filter of individual history. Our window has seen questions of difference, inequality, disability, and love. Maybe the house down the street looks at the moon through a window that has seen scenes regarding wealth, happiness, and what it means to be successful. Maybe on the other side of the planet, a family looks at the moon through a window without glass, carved out of clay. Maybe that window has been witness to the struggles of poverty, of identity, of the battles between culture and the need to survive. Probably too close to home, someone is looking at the moon through a window that only exists in the imagination. This window has held the struggles that come with wondering about the next meal and the night’s weather forecast. Every window shows us the moon–the same moon–yet every window has a vastly different story.

As I sat at the dinner table that night, I felt lucky to be looking at the moon. More importantly though, I felt lucky to be looking at it through that window, now becoming a part of its unique history, a witness to its responsibility as a lens to life’s greater connectedness. Needless to say, I’ll be keeping my spot at the dinner table.


4 Responses to “Windows”

  1. afitts524 March 28, 2012 at 2:42 am #

    Beautiful Diana. And YES, the moon holds a very special connection for us no matter where you are!!!
    Love you so much,

  2. afitts524 March 28, 2012 at 2:43 am #

    Beautiful Diana.
    And YES, the moon has always held a special connection for us no matter where you are!
    Love you so much,

  3. dbfitts March 28, 2012 at 6:22 pm #


    Nice metaphor, the moon as a unifying object seen through a personal lens, in your case the window at your house. I didn’t know that you could see the moon in Orange County. When I was growing up in LA, we used to have to go to the Griffith Park Observatory to see the celestial bodies. Maybe the heavens are clearer now.

    Please keep up your observations via this blog. Like your El Salvador blog, I enjoyed your pithy take on life in new surroundings.



  4. diana2450 March 29, 2012 at 9:50 am #

    Thank you so much! I am definitely learning a lot from them each day

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