In fall, the Earth begins the process
of releasing all the things she has been holding onto throughout spring
and summer, and by midwinter, she has let everything go. She sits clean
and undecorated in her simplicity, free of the frenzy of life that defines
her in the warmer seasons. There is a quiet humility about the Earth in
the winter months, as animals and people retreat inside to escape the wet
and sometimes freezing cold that takes hold. Inside our homes, we create
abundance and warmth in response to being effectively kicked indoors by
the dark and cold that permeate the outdoors.
We burn fires in fireplaces and make
heavy, hot foods to keep our bodies warm and insulated. We may find
ourselves sleeping longer hours and yearning for downtime, just like the
animals deep inside their caves. Even if we live in a warmer climate, the
longer nights and shorter days have the same effect on our cycles. If we
surrender to this time as nature intended, we allow ourselves to slow
down, sleep more, and lower the volumes on our busy minds. At the same
time, we crave company in our dwellings, and the insulated warmth of the
hearth tends to bring people together, creating more warmth and fostering
connections that last through the coming year.
We laugh, eat, talk, sleep, or catch up
on reading, while outside our windows the Earth grows dark earlier and
stays cold longer, accepting the process of change and her place within
it. We might remember to learn from her as she so gracefully surrenders
to the emptiness that precedes all form, the peace that precedes
activity, and the darkness that precedes the light. For everything she
gives and teaches, we might offer a blessing, extending a portion of the
gratitude of this season her way — holding her in our hearts and thanking
her for our very lives.
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