Autumn is my favorite season. I love the crispness in the air, trees changing color and how nature begins to slow down. It seems to me that the world is responding deeply, as if letting out a long breath that has been held since the arrival of spring. The days grow shorter and colder. Yet nothing is ready to give up the joy of summer.
There is an urgency to get ready; to prepare. In the same moment, there is time to celebrate. Embracing the harvest, life says thank you to the sun for heat and growth and innocence. I begin to make my heavy beer and cider. Heather begins to can and bake. It is the time for strong flavors. Clove, cinnamon, licorice, nutmeg… these are the mellowing agents that ease the cutting air and early sunsets. They spice my coffee, chocolate, wine and whisky. They are the soft glowing embers that somehow remain long after warm liquids are consumed.
Today is the Autumnal equinox. Today for Mabon I am encouraged to reap what I’ve sown. To give thanks for blessings and to offer penance for sins. Because in three months, winter will come. In three months, we will be in darkness. In three months, my son will be born.
There is a term called “thin places” where supposedly the boundaries between the physical and spiritual become permeable. Perhaps there is a wisdom here, as a day that marks both balance and transition can draw the mind towards contemplation. Today is a “thin day;” a day for giving thanks, for letting go of regrets, for forgiveness and for friendship. Truly, it is a special day as much as any day which has the gift of meaning and intentionality.
So to embrace the thin-ness of the fall equinox, I am giving thanks for my bounty! A life full of richness and wealth, love and life. I am thankful for my time and place, opportunity and situation. I acknowledge that I only had a part in my blessings. That everything I have was helped along by friends and family and church and coworker and taxes and infrastructure and institution. My blessings are not an island, so I give thanks for the help I’ve been given.
I ask for forgiveness from my parents, for not calling as often as I could and for not being as appreciative of them as I should. I ask forgiveness from my friends for not giving you as much time, love, support or attention as you deserve. I ask forgiveness from the homeless man on the corner for not looking him in the eye. I ask forgiveness from my dog for choosing Netflix over walks, and laziness over dog-park time.
I celebrate the food we’ve grown in our backyard! For the 18 pounds of raspberries and countless tomatoes and potatoes and peppers and kale. I celebrate the land for its soil, the rain for its water, the sun for its energy and life for giving food to eat.
Today I celebrate Autumn.