The View from My Window- The Equinox: A Change of Cycles

My Thoughts for this week about Cycles.

The autumn equinox has passed, and the view from my window is

changing. The garden is giving up the last of what it grew. The light arrives

a little later in the morning, and by supper time I can feel the evening

drawing in.

After a season of tending, picking, washing, chopping and preserving,

harvest can feel wonderfully abundant—and rather exhausting. Some

things grew beautifully. Others did not do what I expected at all. There is no

point arguing with a basket of tomatoes or wishing a zucchini had stayed

small enough to hide behind a leaf. I take stock of what is here and decide

what to do with it.

I find myself doing much the same with the year.

In the cycle I think of as the Fire Cycle, the time between the fall equinox

and the winter solstice, we gather in the results of our choices. We see

what our attention helped to grow, what we neglected, and what took root

without our noticing. It is a good time to ask: What will I carry forward?

When I save seeds from the garden, I choose them with next year in mind.

I cannot save everything, nor would I want to. This year, among the seeds I

want to keep are harmony, respect, the excitement of discovery, and love. I

have seen what happens when I give these things my time and care. I

would like to grow more of them.

And then there are the weeds: fear, judgement, anger and greed. I have

pulled a few of those, too. Some are easy to spot; others can look quite

reasonable until I notice what they are crowding out. Fear may tell me to

pay attention, and anger may show me that something matters deeply. I

can listen to what they have to tell me without giving them the whole

garden.

That is why I like the compost pile. I can put what I do not want to carry

forward into it and let time and reflection do their work. A disappointment

may leave me wiser. A mistake may make me gentler with someone else.

Even a difficult season can add something to the soil.

As we move toward winter, I want to enjoy what we have grown and share

it generously. I also want to take a quiet moment to choose what deserves

a place in the next cycle.

May you find something in your harvest that amazes you. And may the

seeds you keep grow into a future you will be glad to welcome.

Allana