Equinox
Equinox
September 23, 2011
I celebrate Mother Earth as a living consciousness each Solstice and each Equinox. You probably already know that the Equinox is a time of perfect balance of daylight and night dark. Did you know that an egg could stand upright without falling during the Equinox? Try it and you, too will appreciate the balanced energy field of our planet. Seasonal passages and cycles can support us as well as alert us to places to balance and expand our own consciousness.
Every Equinox I challenge myself to look at where I feel balance in my inner life and outer expression as well as where I sense imbalance. One of the patterns I notice is how much energy I devote to nurturing others. Like many women, relationships and caring and connecting bring me joy and meaning. The balance practice that I committed myself to maintain until the Winter Solstice in mid December is to gift myself with six hours of silence for one day a week. Time for a word fast, self-care, and going within to discover who will show up.
In Maine autumn is a time of relaxing in front of the fire pit with sweaters, apple picking, getting lost and finding our way in corn mazes, cider pressing, and seeing your breath in front of you in the early morning. My grandmother traditionally made pickles and my mother made jam to celebrate autumn. I concoct nourishing homemade soups and cutback on tabouli and green salads fresh from my garden.
Living in Maine, allows me to be receptive to seasonal passages. For instance, I notice how darkness descends earlier in the day now and mornings take longer to be light. Each morning when Noah, Malia, and I take our beholding walks at 6 AM, we have to figure out if we wear shorts or sweaters and long pants. Soccer and football games replace swimming and kayaking. Roses and cosmos are replaced by asters and mums. Early morning frost kills tomato plants and decorates the maple trees. Cats grow thicker fur and no longer leave behind traces of themselves on furniture.
When I lived in Taos, New Mexico, the doors to the Pueblo closed to visitors for six weeks. Native Americans used the forty-two days for going within, deep dreaming, and meditation. My word for their going within was “ fermenting.”
As a prelude to Equinox, I began to feel a deep stillness when I sat in meditation each day. My inner stillness sustained itself for a week and I felt a sense of deepened peace and possibilities. When I shared my experience with a soul friend, he wondered if my deep stillness was the spiritual equivalent of human contentment. I considered his comparison for a moment before I realized that the deep stillness is balance.
May you, too, experience the blessings of balance during this time.