My Equinox

I didn’t leave the apartment much this weekend. I just couldn’t. I was so very tired. Some days I just want to hide. Stepping outside can feel like a huge obstacle to overcome and an oppressive endeavour. I thoroughly enjoyed relishing in my little bubble of good music (specifically the new xx album – therapy!), cheesy movies, home cooking, nesting and book reading.

I also took some time to honor change. Yesterday marked a new beginning and the welcoming in of the autumnal equinox. We are nearing exactly 12 hours of day and 12 hours of night here in Kingston – 6 am to 6 pm to 6 am. Balance. Equanimity. Light. Dark. Sun. Moon. Rise. Fall.

Nature beautifully transitions from one phase to another, allowing the change to happen with ease and with anticipation. We all know another beginning is coming. There are no surprises. It accepts. It does not challenge.

If my life were a garden ready for harvest this fall, I would be pulling the weeds and removing large stumps in order to get to the healthy fruit I am trying to grow. I would be plucking away the plants that didn’t survive the summer, clearing them from sight, and then pulling out and absorbing what remains as I rebuild and gain strength. I would also be sectioning off the plot for places where another can dig and seed the soil but most importantly, watering the spaces I want to save for myself in the years to come.

I was invited to participate in a symbolic ritual to honor something that I need to release in celebration of the equinox and the redemption of balance, to let go of something from the past that still triggers and runs me. I knew exactly what this was the instant I read the invitation: a vision of the future that is no longer valid. If I could somehow let this go, then I could find a new way of moving forward.

I wrote down a description of this fiction vision and then promptly burnt the piece of paper. A bit dramatic perhaps, but kinda fun. It was stubborn and wouldn’t burn all the way through; I had to relight the page a few times. I suppose this is a testament to how engrained this vision is in my heart and how tricky it has been to let go of (or how humid it is here).

Now, I need to allow a new vision, energy and intention to unfold and fill me up. A new plan. This is a work in progress. I know it will become clearer in time despite not knowing what this looks like in the present.

What has become clearer are a few subtle changes. In recent days I’ve noticed that I look different in photos. I told a friend about this observation, a deeply spiritual man whose insight is always appreciated, and he said to me, “Wow. That’s so cool. You probably look really beautiful to yourself.” I see light. This hasn’t been the case for a long time.

He reminded me that we are all beings of divine light and that when we see ourselves in light then others do too. He also told me that the divine always has my back, especially when making courageous decisions that require a lot of strength. He said, “Every time you make the right choice your spirit gets stronger. Soon, people that revere the divine light in you will begin to emerge.”

Love and light. Go prune that garden.

3 thoughts on “My Equinox

  1. You do look wonderful in all your photos! You seem lighter and to be smiling wider! 🙂

    Love the symbolic burning. Might just do that tonight myself!

    X x

  2. You can put the ashes of your old vision in your life garden … power fertilizer for new growth.

    Love all your photos. You’re beaming! In some pictures your smile matches the little glowing heart on your shirt.

    Thank you for posting your blog. I really enjoy reading it.

    I wonder what you’ll do to honour the full moon this weekend?


Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s