Why a Moon Gathering at The River Runs Through?

When I finally decided to apply to graduate school, I thought the hard part was behind me.

I was wrong.

Acceptance hinged on a group interview. A group. Of strangers.

I had always been comfortable in one-on-one interviews. Put me in a room with several people all trying to make a good impression while pretending not to, and I suddenly questioned every life choice that had brought me there.

Apparently, I survived.

In fact, graduate school made sure I didn't escape groups. We studied group dynamics, group process, and why some groups flourish while others...don't.

My own small group?

Let's just say we contributed generously to the "don't" category.

Even in their dysfunction, my small group taught me something unexpected.

Groups matter.

For years, whenever I found myself in a group and the introductions started making their way around the room, my heart would race. My palms would sweat. I'd rehearse one sentence in my head until somehow it no longer sounded like English.

Then it would be my turn.

I'd say my name.

No one laughed.

The world continued spinning.

Funny how often our fears fail to live up to our imaginations.

Which makes me wonder…Where did we learn to fear one another? I've read that many people fear public speaking more than death.

Death.

Apparently, we'd rather be in the coffin than giving the eulogy. That might be funny if it weren't also a little sad. Because we're wired for connection.

Loneliness isn't just uncomfortable. Research shows loneliness contributes to premature death as much as smoking. Smoking. We need one another far more than most of us would like to admit.

And yet we've built lives where we can text someone on the other side of the world while never knowing the name of the person down the road.

Somewhere along the way, gathering became optional.

I don't think it was ever meant to be.

So...

Why the moon?

Because humans have always needed a rhythm.

Long before calendars, notifications, and smart watches reminding us we were already late, people looked up.

The moon quietly marked time.

Its phases became invitations.

The new moon asked,

What are you ready to let go of?

The full moon asked,

What are you ready to grow?

Whether you see that as science, spirituality, good psychology, or simply a beautiful tradition doesn't matter nearly as much as this:

Once a month, we're invited to pause.

To notice.

To choose our direction instead of simply reacting to life.

I like that.

Actually...

I think we need that.

If you've visited The River Runs Through, you've probably noticed something.

People come in for coffee...

and then they stay.

They come for a latte.

Somehow they're talking to someone they've never met about Scotland, grief, art, barn cats, gardens, fair trade coffee, trail clearing, the river itself, or what they're trying to figure out next in life.

Sometimes all before the coffee gets cold.

It happens often enough that I no longer think it's unusual.

I think it's what happens when people feel safe.

The River Runs Through has always felt like more than a coffee shop.

Or a store.

Or even my counseling practice.

It's become a place where conversations happen naturally.

Where people slow down.

Where no one seems in quite the same hurry they were five minutes earlier.

Maybe that's the real magic of this place.

Not the coffee.

People.

So it feels only natural to gather here under the moon.

Not because the moon needs us.

Because we need each other.

We need reasons to leave the house.

To sit around a fire.

To hear someone else's story.

To laugh.

To listen.

To remember that none of us were ever meant to do this life alone.

We had hoped to begin these gatherings in July.

Life had other plans.

So we'll begin in August instead.

I'll have just returned from Scotland with new stories to tell and, knowing me, probably a few more questions than answers.

We'll gather on the last Monday of the month.

We'll sit under the moon.

Drum, if you feel called to.

Or rattle, if that feels more aligned.

We'll talk if talking feels right.

We'll enjoy the silence if silence has more to say.

No pressure.

No performance.

Just people...

doing something beautifully ordinary that has helped humans heal for thousands of years.

Gathering.

Perhaps the moon has never really been the point.

Perhaps she's simply been giving us a reason...

to look up.

To look around.

And to remember that we were never meant to do this life alone.

Come to our moon gathering Monday, August 31 - 4-6pm - learn more: https://www.theriverrunsthrough.com/moon-gatherings