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.
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.
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.)
So 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.
In the garden.