The next few months are among my favorite as they evoke both "liminal space" and a sense of nature's wisdom calling us to listen and tenderly shift gears. The wetlands behind our home are already turning shades of amber, auburn, and crimson. Pumpkins dot the terrain, too with their vibrant orange and gold. Evenings are increasingly cooler as Brother Sun gives up 2-3 minutes of light every day. And a combination of sorrow mixed with possibility is present in the very air we breathe. The wise feminist teacher and shaman, Starhawk, puts it well:
A real relationship with nature is vital for our spiritual development as well as our psychic health. It is also a vital base for any work we do to heal the earth and transform the social and political systems that assault her daily.
For one who savors this season, New England is the place to be as fresh apple cider fills roadside stands, gardens share the bounty of summer's last hurrah, and the few remaining ears of sweet corn linger to tease us with their impending farewell. Those far wiser than I teach that as the autumn equinox approaches, all that is sacred in creation ask us to recognize God's invitation to find reclaim a measure of balance in our lives.
A balance of light and dark, spirit and body, mind and soul. As we return thanks for the blessings of the summer harvest and the fruit of our gardens, we also take stock of the mystery that is life as it once again opens us the the blessings of transformation. Like leaves falling away from their branches, Mother Nature asks us to release our attachments to who we think we are. Like a caterpillar in a chrysalis, we slowly enter the darkness of our own being and surrender to the unknown. And like a monarch butterfly, we let the winds of change become our guide and welcome a season of flowing within quiet grace.
I didn't grow-up honoring the spirituality of creation. I suspect that's true for most of us white folk - especially those without intimacy with the land. But now I find the ebb and flow rhythms of creation to be a time-tested mentor into the unforced rhythms of grace. St. Paul told us this in chapter one of Romans: "The basic reality of God is plain enough if we open our eyes to creation: there it is! By taking a long and thoughtful look at what God has created, people have always been able to see what their eyes as such can’t see: the eternal power of the sacred as well as the mystery of God's divine being." (The Message) This, of course, was never unpacked in the Congregational churches I grew up in throughout New England. But that was true of the genocide perpetrated by my spiritual and familial ancestors, too. A great deal was hidden just below the surface for those with eyes to see; but like many other bourgeois white folk - women as well as men - my post WWII generation learned a sanitized and sentimentalized history of the USA that we're still working at relinquishing in a quest for the truth.
On Sunday, September 22, I begin a conversation and Bible study into the spirituality of the 12 Steps. This is part of my own healing and a chance to share with others the practical wisdom of this way of embodied prayer. Later that same day, the Autumnal Equinox, our band, Wednesday's Child, will play a gig in a friend's barn stating @ 3 pm. This, too is one of the ways I seek balance: the music and poetry of the season open my eyes and all my senses to the next part of life's journey. This prayer says it well:
For the light-filled days behind us and the darkening days to come: we give thanks. For the harvest itself as well as the wisdom and beauty of that still surrounds us in fading vibrance: we return thanks. For the turning of the wheel, the insights of letting go, the liberation of release, and the promise of winter's rest: we give thanks. In this brief season of repose, this sacred pause in the turning of time, that illuminates the balance of light and dark: we give thanks.
If you would value marking the equinox with us and the music, prayer, and poetry: please send me a note.