Category Archives: meditation

Fall Equinox: I am a Leaf

Today is the day when the night and the day are split equally — a perfect balance of dark and light. Masculine and feminine energies, creative incubation and beautiful manifestation.

Balance.

During this time of year, of course, the chlorophyll in leaves fades, taking the green with it.  Therefore, the “true colors” of the leaves begin to emerge, in rich earthy tones of red, brown, orange and yellow.  Even here in Florida.

As I’ve come into a more natural balance these past few years, I’ve been able to learn a bit more about my own true colors.

I am a leaf.
I have an edge.
An outline.
A skin.

A particular shape, held by that skin.
Hemmed in by that edge.
 
I am a container, and I am contained.
A unique chemical mixture.

Changing with the changed.


Friday morning, my son caught a ride to school with a friend.  Could this be, after all these years, the end of an era of me driving him to school? If so, what will I do with this opening, this change in the composition of my day?

Already, my heart aches a little, thinking about it — even though I am cautiously optimistic about this being a good thing.  For example, he’s a lot more motivated to get up on time!  He actually got to school four minutes early (as opposed to four minutes late, our usual pattern.)

IMG_2538So there are other questions: As I enter the fall of my life, the harvest season, what true colors will be revealed? How will I let go, like a leaf, and fall, in this era of post child-bearing years?

I would like to fall gracefully, beautifully, having served a worthy, life-giving purpose: to have nurtured my own beautiful children and allowed them to learn their own true colors.

Not that I’m ready to give it all up quite yet!  I do have the next 40 years of my life (at least!) to better learn my own true nature, and to watch, to wait, and see how my children’s colors will emerge.

Last night, at 2:02 a.m., my daughter texted me from college: “I love you Mom.” As my son left Friday, he turned and gave me a quick, kind glance. I am grateful, very grateful, today, to have two such lovely children, who are learning about themselves and what they truly value, in a loving, balanced, and kind way.

As am I.

Here.
In the garden.

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Filed under garden, gratitude, journaling, meditation, sacred, writing

Digging In The Dirt

Just for fun, here’s an interview with me that my colleague and friend, Jean Rowe, wrote for The Center for Journal Therapy last fall.  Some good dirt on me!  (Jean is the Program Manager and Oncology Certified Social Worker at Young Survival Coalition in Atlanta, and leads journaling workshops for young survivors.)

What is your relationship between actual gardening and journaling?

My garden is both a metaphor for my life and a literal experience, where I can connect with myself and the earth. In my journal, I write about both experiences. In the process, I learn a lot, about myself and about the world. Plus, I often write IN the garden. I have a bench in my front yard, tucked under a tree and near my bluebird nest box, and it is a delightful spot to journal in the early morning, among the birds and flowers.

What have your harvested from the garden that is your journal?

Stability. It’s an anchor, a root system, one that keeps me grounded. I write in my journal every morning, without fail, and often throughout the day. It’s how I find out what’s going on with me, how I process the events of my life, and connect with my spiritual self. These are all activities I did not do very well until recently.

Here’s the link for the rest of the article: http://twinstitute.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/C4JT-E-Zine-Autumn-2012-smaller.pdf

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Filed under bluebirds, garden, gratitude, journaling, meditation, sacred, Uncategorized, writing