Weaving the Threads of Autumn

Autumn has arrived and the earth is tawny. Fields roll like the fur on a lion's back, caramel colored, sun drenched and smelling of that clean freshness of dried grass. The trees stand green and tall as always they do here in the fertile Pacific Northwest.  Summer rains have blessed us over the last month, and I feel that too. The roadsides are not covered in dust this year, the green trees not ashy. A great relief this moisture, a great blessing.

It's the gathering time. Gathering the crops in from the field, gathering myself into a quieter space, gathering the blessings of the summer.  I've already harvested some of my seed corn, and squash are plump and heavy waiting to be brought in and stored for winter feasting. Growing food makes the seasons feel more real, more eminent somehow. It's definitely not all about pumpkin spice lattes and cute sweaters and boots over here, (not that those are not delightful! )  It's a real life turning in, and in a month’s time putting things to bed.

I'm grateful for the slowing down and turning in. There's something broody in my chest. Something wanting to be seen, tended, given space to explore. I can't quite put my finger on what it is and that's OK. I've learned that sometimes we have to create a sort of nest inside of ourselves before spirit can reveal more to us. We can't force the soul to speak. We can't peel back the layers of the egg to help the little chick be born, because we all know how that turns out... and it isn't pretty. So, I'm gestating a bit. Feeling into the center of my being. My home base.

It takes radical resistance to not become spread too thin in this time. I sense this all around me, everyone I love is chronically too busy, all the time. We all seem to have so many ways that we are being pulled and called, and yes, of course it is important to be of service, it is important to be engaged in healing, and learning, and living. And yet, I wonder what is being lost in all of this frenetic hastiness and can the deep soul wisdom that we long for be attained through ambition,  or only through being, and presence, and crafting that nest inside one's life where truth wants to live.

I'm thinking of the marvelous bowerbirds, how they create these gorgeous nests that call their mates in. Ground displays of beauty, of welcome, of tending. What have we forgotten about courtship and steadiness in this time of more, more, more? I frequently hear the words of my teacher Stephen Jenkinson reminding us that we don't want to be a mile wide and only two inches deep. At least I certainly don't. I want to be a deep well of truth.

This past Saturday, the night before equinox, I sat with friends around the fire and we lifted our voices in song together. Not in a formal way, not in a formed ceremony of any type, just human women gathered around the fire with our voices mingling in the night air and the children playing nearby. Sometimes coming close to crawl on the lap and be comforted, or to sing a few lines of a song. This type of simple being is delicious to my soul. This comfort can't happen on Instagram. It can't happen in a zoom room. It can't happen unless we humans are willing to slow down enough and prioritize sharing our lives with each other. I am so grateful that I have those ones in my circle.

Perhaps we can all take a step back and a turn inward this season. I wonder what precious being living inside you wants to be courted forward and given voice? What tender place inside your heart is longing to be fed and nourished? What wounds still live inside your being that can only be mended by attentiveness and time, stitched together by spider silk and moonlight, by a warm water, and heavy tears that brim right at the surface of your heart, finally being shed.

Maybe we could take it all to the land. Our generous earth that provides all, and always holds us so gently. Make up a bundle of offerings, read your favorite poem out loud, place your forehead down on the cool grass in the morning and breathe out hot steamy breaths of longing. Trust that all you need welcome to you in due time period trust that all that no longer serves you will be let go, once it has been attended to and released. It's not a matter of if, it is a matter of when. Make your life a prayer. Speak that prayer to the wind for all of us. We need each other's prayers. We need them now more than ever.

I'll be here, planting my feet into the soil. Welcoming the chill of frost to my cheek. I'll be here creating a nest in my heart for truth to inhabit and make home. I'll be here feeling your prayers blowing by me on the morning breeze and sending mine up to travel with yours. Maybe they'll join together and make something more beautiful than we can imagine right now. Maybe we will all receive the gift of slowness, of deep understanding, of a spaciousness in time and energy that we long for. Maybe we will receive exactly what we need. Here's to believing this to be possible...

And I said to my heart be still now

for there is no where we need to go
and no thing we need to do -

only wait in this precious cave of time

for the bird in us to land and in good time
to sing again
until that song, silence will be our welcome
companion and we will create comfort - here
in this nest, this body, this home
here in this tender place of longing.

Marianna Iverson