So, here in the Pacific Northwest, autumn is starting to make itself known – in the cool mornings, bright sunny days without the scorching heat, the coloring of leaves, the winding down of the garden. The mornings will soon start to occasionally be blanketed in fall.
The equinox is that liminal tipping point that comes twice a year, when day and night are in equal balance on the teeter-totter of the year. It is that moment’s pause before the balance shifts toward the light in spring or toward the dark in fall. It signifies the ending of the harvest season, the time to take stock of the abundance we have received and the remnants of which we will carry into and through the winter; likewise what we leave behind to feed the soil for next year’s planting.
And it is also the time of year for reflecting on the personal seeds we planted earlier in the year, and what those seeds yielded. It is the time of year when we begin to take stock of what we have been able to harvest – what we have achieved, accomplished, realized – and what seeds never managed to sprout or thrive, maybe even despite our best efforts. It is time to celebrate what we have been able to produce and glean, as well as release our grip on what didn’t come to fruition.
So, with that in mind, I offer up a writing prompt:
Reflect on the seeds you planted earlier in the year – which of them bore fruit and which lay fallow? What do you celebrate from this year’s harvest, and what must you simply release?
“In holding these two in tension we are reminded that in our letting go we also find abundance.” – Christine Valtners Paintner
(I have written more and have shared others’ wise and inspiring words about the autumn and its equinox here.)