Balance means many things to people. I’ve found that at any given time in my life, my scales are always tipped in one direction or the other, but that sought-after feeling of just being still in equilibrium is fleeting. Especially when I’m tired, struggling, weary, afraid, or grieving.
Lately, my balance has been way off. A lot of push with not enough rest, quiet, or solitude. I know this pattern well in my life and it never fails that I get sick when I’ve not adjusted the scales with enough care.
I love the invitation of this day. In the northern hemisphere, we get to think about what we have sown in our lives that we can harvest and make use of, and what should be thrown into the compost bin. What can we put to bed as we head into the time of increasing dark?
Can we let ourselves rest?
Can we let go of things that don’t serve us?
Can we let go of things we wish we had or could do but with only so much time in a day, we must come to the aching realization that some things have to remain undone, unmade, unwritten? That hurts.
And in the southern hemisphere, as you head into increasing light, what will you sow? How will you prepare yourself for what you are hoping to bring into being?
In this nature-made time of reflection, what will you be tending to?
(This is reposted from The Long Grief Journey, a website dedicated to the book I wrote with Pamela Blair. I wanted to share it here because of how precious I feel the equinox is.)
It’s Friday already. And the equinox. Another quarter done, a new one to start. Time keeps on a moving, and it’s sort of reminding me of that ride that was on playgrounds when I was kid. You know the one; the big round platform with metal handles all about it. A group of three or more kids would get that thing going around and around so fast our scrawny legs could barely keep up with the running. Then, we’d gauge it just right, jump on, and hold on for our lives. I remember the feeling so well, fighting against all of that centrifugal force wanting to do other things to my body. I freaking loved that playground ride. And I never got hurt on it. I remember seeing other kids bail so hard or get their feet tripped up as they jumped on or off. I would have a heart attack if I saw my kids on one of those now. OMG.
Anyway, in a week where about 1.5 of the 30 things I’d hoped to accomplish got done, I’m trying to figure out how to keep my adult self on the ride for longer stretches of time and with more focus. My response to centrifugal force is not what it once was. I sure do get knocked down by distractions and colds more than I used to. But, the distractions! Oh man. I’m very interested in genealogy. In particular my own family’s ancestral history, and I spent hours and hours sifting through microfilm at the library earlier this week. When I asked to use their microfilm viewing machine, the guy at the desk looked at me kind of funny and said sure, after he dusted it off! I was basically wedged between a big machine and a filing cabinet where I found the death certificate of my paternal 3rd great-grandfather, who emigrated from Ireland via Liverpool likely sometime around 1844. He had a rough end of his life and to see it all written out on this death certificate from 1874, well… it was powerful. It was like breathing life back into a story that I’ll bet was rarely, if ever, told. I think that’s why I love genealogy so much. When you find someone from way back, who is so long forgotten in the living family memory, it’s like you bring them new life. They aren’t forgotten anymore.
After a couple of days of work, I was hanging around outside after a run and saw a whole bunch of butterflies flittering by high up in the sky. I tried to get a picture but they were too quick! So, I just stared at the blue and thought about all of those folks that came before me. It was pretty fun.
Then I got a wicked bad cold.
There is a new item up on Etsy. You may remember her if you are reader of this blog on a regular basis. Realta the Owl is available. With all of the owls I make, I need to be able to let them go, character and all. I do hope she goes with Sherman, though. They do love one another.
I’ve also signed on to be a vendor at the Champlain Valley Union High School Craft Fair in November, which I am really excited about. I’ve got a lot of making to do, so here’s to staying on that ride!
Healing Handcrafting 