Internal Equinox
harvest and balance
Hello Friends,
This weekend was full of work, fun, and family. Each year my sister and I visit to the International Guild of Miniature Artisans Show in New Jersey to check out all the available offerings by a group of skilled artisans dedicated to reproducing our world in the smallest scale. My sister and I also enjoy crafting miniatures and each of us has sold merchandise through vendors in years past. But while my sister owns a gorgeous dollhouse full of fine, tasteful miniatures, my focus has always skewed towards the fantastical. Over the years I’ve been collecting spooky treasures of all sorts and finally feel ready to create a Halloween-themed room box. It’s a wonderful hobby, especially at this time of year.
Reflecting On
balance, fleeting
Yesterday was the autumnal equinox, a liminal space, balanced between light and dark. Harvest season is everywhere, if you live in the northern hemisphere. Time with family, decorating with pumpkins and mums, visiting farms stacked with baskets of delicious vegetables and baked goods reminds me the earth is bountiful, and I’m grateful for all of it. Gratefulness helps keep me balanced when times are leaner. As I reflect on balancing my life, I’m reminded of a Robert Frost poem:
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
Balance comes so infrequently. Like the equinox, it is there for a breath, then vanishes with the autumn winds. We are constantly seeking balance as human beings, but I sometimes feel we have to invent it on the fly.
The Heart of It
Balance, I think, comes from the inside. Seeking it outwardly is folly. With the amount of unfinished projects around my house, I could feel out of balance from now until the end of days. Every time one thing is finished, something else needs a beginning. When I think of hours spent with family, the times I craft with my sister, holidays at my mother’s house, pumpkin picking with my husband, a hot drink on a rainy autumn day, I’m reminded how minutes are like leaves, falling away. The only balance I will ever feel is created by my own soul, my own feeling of well-being: the tangy-sweet taste of my honeyed tea, dappled sunlight on a wagon of colorful gourds, the laughter of siblings at the dinner table. So dawn goes down to day, writes Robert Frost. And how quickly! Precious, beautiful moments are fleeting.
When something is perfect for harvest, it is balanced—neither unripe nor rotten, and harvesting our own moments in time keeps our baskets full for the darker months ahead. Balance from within comes from understanding priorities and giving yourself grace when you feel knocked off your center of gravity. I created a harvest of good memories this weekend by choosing what was important for my internal equinox. I also added some work into the mix so I wouldn’t feel overwhelmed, tilting towards the heat of the sun in a meltdown.
Outside forces will inevitably try and throw my world out of balance again. But when I combine the harvest of small, joyful moments, balanced priorities, and gratefulness, I know I can make it through the darkest winter.
Until next time, where will you find balance?
Jan
*“Gourds” watercolor by Jan M. Alexander © 2024
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