Here we are at another threshold,
A turning point amidst turning points,
Another marker of time in the still-liminal space of pandemic, social unrest, polarized political upheaval, wildfires, hurricanes, smoke inundation, altered daily routines …
How do we claim the strength, find the courage, move forward and deeper, reach out with compassion, stand with integrity, cultivate peace, create beauty, make a difference … day by day by day?
In all of this disruption, a nugget of stability we can rely on and learn from comes again in the cycling of the seasons.
Autumn is here.
We mark it on the calendar at a particular hour on a particular date. But it is here already. Because seasons are transitions ... natural ones, reliable ones ... that happen as a process rather than an event.
And it is now:
in the golden maple edge of the tree line,
in the moisture-infused morning and the earlier arrival of dusk,
in the twinkle and flash of leaves twirling from limb to bed of Earth,
in the shifting slant and intensity of afternoon sunlight,
in the coyote’s hungry howl and the rabbit’s frenzied dash for cover,
in the squirrels’ rapidly repeated pluck of pine cone from twig,
in the frenzied berry foraging of these several dozen robins in my yard each afternoon,
in your own deep yearning for haven and community.
A reminder that we, too, cycle: turn, flourish and wilt, birth anew, go dormant and reawaken – over and over again.
May this autumn show us where the wildfires in our souls rage on uncontrolled. Or where their natural intensity might be the healthy, restorative inner burn that frees us of the tangle of invasives and nourishes our soul’s-soil with regenerative nutrients.
May this autumn open our eyes anew to the great gift of breath – inhalation and exhalation deep and necessary. Where air has become choked with the noxious, or COVID has invaded the lungs, breath is strained, diminished, eliminated. But let us stand next to a tree, or a houseplant, and exchange with this other living being our carbon dioxide for her oxygen and we feel that reciprocity, that mutual need.
May the autumnal equinox this year be our call back to ourselves to balance and stability within, to the opportunity to start again, a moment to open our eyes to what is outside (however altered or calming, however beautiful or ragged) and renew ourselves as members of the broad Earth community of living beings.
May this autumn bring us great and abiding peace, overflowing compassion, a well of desire to improve and heal the world, and great gasps of wonder at the beauty we can find, for example, in even the smallest spore of a simple mushroom.
