Autumn breaks things down, but also allows us to gather what we have grown.
And Equinox is the point of perfect balance between dark and light. It is a time for dreams, a time for gathering the harvest, leaving to wither what no longer serves us or can’t be used to feed us, and getting honest about what resides in our heart.
It happens slowly usually—the change from Summer to Fall—the change in the tone of the light, the cooler mornings and evenings, and the distinct, yet subtle smell of decay that one can sense emanating from the ground around dawn and dusk.
Though people are in the midst of still harvesting the summer’s crops there will now be a sense of urgency to it, as we could have a frost at anytime. I have been walking up in the hills lately where the leaves tend to turn sooner. It is as if the winter wind winds its way from the peaks down into the valley painting a tapestry of orange and reds as it spreads through the tree tops sometimes whispering, and sometimes howling.
Here, in the mountains, this change can come suddenly and violently.
I awoke this morning to my summer’s altar having been destroyed by last night’s sudden and wild wind.
The little statuettes of Danu and Cernunos had been tossed from the table and lay beneath it, one of them in pieces. This is not the first time my statuette of Danu has been broken. Years ago my daughter’s cat knocked her from the ledge where I had left her to perch while I was on a road trip. The breaks had been clean and I was able to put her back together without even using any adhesive, and so she has sat for many years until this morning I found her lying behind the little table on my front porch, once again in pieces.
Cernunos, the statuette of the Wild God I had purchased for my birthday last month, was lying with her, but he was still in tact. The bunches of lavender I had cut from my own bush a few full moon’s ago, which I use regularly in my ritual work for burning like sage, but sweeter were scattered to the winds, literally and physically.
I picked up the statues and deposited them on my kitchen table to be tended later, pushed the table against the screen, retrieved the rather wilted mint and sage from the porch railing, and returned to my cozy tin cottage.
But lo! Just now I hear the screen rattling dangerously and it will need to be retrieved post haste lest the wind work some other wild destruction on what was quite recently my little outdoor haven. I admit, I’m a bit sad to lose it already. I am just adjusting to the loss of the massive tree, and have barely enjoyed the accommodations I had made to its missing shade, shelter, and protection.
It inevitably would have needed to be taken down as the ficus cannot survive colder temperatures, and will need to be brought back in. And I will not care to sit and write on my porch once the frosts come.
But not now, not yet.
This sudden bout of destruction is not how I would have chosen to dismantle my altar for the season, but not all things that come undone are under our control when it comes to our magical workings, as with our lives.
My dreams last night were powerful. My active dreaming practice helps me to remember and decipher them and is valuable in both my own personal practice, as well as my professional one with clients.
I was speaking with my daughter about how to unravel addiction.
This is something that comes with the ancestral territory form both of sides of my family, and both of hers as well. And I am sure that our family is not the only one that struggles with addiction in its various forms; so many do.
In the dream I pointed to her bare chest—her essential Self—and then to all the layers that were wrapped around it. They looked like robes or clothing of some kind. I shared with her how these layers inter-penetrate family and collective patterns, and though I was speaking to her, I know I was also speaking to me. In dreams we are communicating with aspects of ourselves, but also at times others. This felt like both. If there is anyway I can make life easier for my descendants by imparting what I have learned, either directly or energetically, I am all for it!
So it felt powerful to awaken to howling northern wind that had pulled down my altar’s effigies as I slept peacefully through the night.
Magic requires sacrifice.
This concept of sacrifice is something that it seems “New Agers” and modern witches seem to have forgot or don’t want to recognize. For months I have been offering my ancestor’s, benevolent dead, and the Unseen the smoke from my herbal “cigarettes”, but also the smoke from the dried lavender from my garden’s summer harvest. If They saw fit to take it all as sacrifice for the magic worked in that dream, I will not argue.
Besides, there is no point in arguing when something is taken from our lives by forces of Nature, or forces out of our control be it through the hand of Death or one of Her emissaries. Loss is a part of life, and we do not always or even often get to choose what that looks like.
We may go years wanting a specific kind of “closure” from people who will simply never be able to give it to us, either because they are gone from this world or they are simply not capable. Demanding apologies from people who have hurt us who are not in touch with their own guilt and pain is a great way to stunt our growth for long periods of time. Refusing to mourn what we have lost or not knowing how is another.
In keeping my pulse on our “collective” both people I share personal space, professional space, and a recent forum with it seems that a lot of intense emotions are “flying” around. We need to know there is nothing wrong with these feelings, no matter how rough or even ugly they may feel at time.
There is no such thing as an emotional hierarchy though, like the seasons, we certainly have preferential emotions. Nobody wants to be angry, sad, or even depressed, but these are states and expressions of our humanity. We cannot hold them back anymore than we can hold the leaves on the trees when the season shifts and tells them to fall.
Of course we want to feel happy, joyful, purposeful, and at ease. In order for these feelings rise we need to make room for all of our feelings at the table.
There is a being in my life whom I hate. And I will not apologize for my feelings. This person has caused deep hurt and harm to someone I care about. I will not attempt to generate forgiveness for them. Gawd can do that—it’s not my job. I can, however, see from the images and feelings of this dream that the forces of destruction who work through this person are impossible for me to shift. The work for me, as with my summer altar, is to pick up the pieces that have been broken and scattered and find them new homes in a sacred way.
My work is to let the forces of chaos do their work, and to build a new altar.
Rituals can help us weave the internal, external, emotional, and relational. When we do ritual we often work with Unseen beings and forces, and we are most certainly in relationship with them.
This kind of work is exactly what Autumn is all about: we surrender to the underlying course of decay, even as we harvest and enjoy the fruits of our bounties.
We batten down the hatches, physically and metaphorically, and prepare to turn inward, slow down, eat hearty foods, and inspect our lives. We don’t fight nature or our own feelings as there is no point in being other than what we are—where we are.
I will be offering a a Fall Equinox Ritual on Thursday the 28th at 10am MST. This event is available for all of my subscribers to attend!
We will discuss Autumnal mythology: Persephone, The Dying God (Cernunos), Danu, Mabon, as well as rituals and practices that can help you enjoy the harvest, and prepare you for the cooler, darker months ahead.
Zoom link: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/89229680810
With love,
~Justice
Love this Justice. I love the seasonal changes and am currently on a cleanse.
THIS is felt and grounded insight about ritual. Ritual grounded in Our Mother GAIA. This morning Richard was reading an article about ritual. He read a quote from Irish poet David White who encountered a fisherman on a remote Scottish isle. A man from an older World than ours. A man surrounded by the Living Intelligence of Nature Who appeared to him at the moment of awakening, arising, drinking tea, stepping over his threshold. For each encounter the Old Man had a prayer. Richard and I both sobbed and fell silent. We aspire to these continuous rituals of gratitude for the gift of Life, born of our Living Mother.