​Note from Louisa
 
This morning, I woke up to the delightful sound of birdsong, and despite the inflexible mercury staunchly resisting an upward climb, I can feel spring in the air. The Vernal Equinox on March 20th brings us to a delicious point of balance.  Here, we stand on the seasonal tipping point where the hours of light are equal to the hours of shadow.
 
This event happens both in the spring and again at the Autumnal Equinox on September 23rd as we officially moved into fall. For only two days of the year, the sun sits directly above the equator, with the Earth tilted neither toward, nor away from the Sun. For these two days only, we can witness a point of planetary equity.
 
For me, the invitation at the time of Equinox, as we move into the new growth and rebirth of spring, is to honor both the light and the shadow within. We can recognize the Spring as a transition into a time of greater activity, connection with others, and of witnessing the seeds that were planted last year pushing through the warming Earth to greet the growing light.
 
I might stop and ask myself what is new in my life that I need to tend to with gentle care? What were the dreams and hopes that were “planted” last year that will find their way to fruition this year, and what further ministrations are required for them to bloom fully?
 
It is equally important to honor the necessary darkness and fallow time that allowed those seeds to rest beneath the frozen soil, gathering their resources and strength for the growth ahead.
 
Here I might ask myself what has been the fertile soil that fed and protected the seed before it was time to grow toward the sun? If that soil is spent now, depleted of all its nutrients, can I release it and put my energy into the tender chute pushing through the ground?
 
Can I look to the sorrows and losses of the past and find the learning that emerges? Can I see how the “dirt” I have been caked in has allowed me to grow in ways I might not have otherwise?
 
My inquiry might expand to assess how I have been using my own light to be of service to others, or whether I may need the cool, quiet shadows to give me respite when I am overwhelmed.
 
I invite you to consider how the tension between light and dark plays out in your life, both internally and out in the world. Do you fall into the trap of overvaluing the light over the dark? Or the dark over the light? The equinoxes remind us that both are needed if we are to become whole and continue on a toward wholeness.
 
Blessings on your journey, 
Louisa

Note from Louisa
 
October is my favorite month.  I love the shifting light and the crisper air.  The changing color of the leaves reminds me of the natural cycle of life and how it flaunts its beauty at every stage and opportunity.
 
There is a stillness that begins to gather as we spend more time moving toward generative darkness.  If we are mindful, we can slow down and embrace the teachings of the shadows, without which light would have no meaning.
 
On the 31st, we will celebrate Samhain, Gaelic for “summer’s end”, the Celtic festival marking the end of harvest and the descent toward the dark half of the year.  It marks the mid-point in the year between the autumnal equinox and the winter solstice, the point at which we begin to travel back toward the light. As an agrarian people, the ancient Celts regarded the end of the harvest season as the end of the year and, for modern day Pagans, Samhain is the equivalent of New Year’s Eve.
 
You may be more familiar with Samhain as it is commonly celebrated, as Halloween, having drifted from its pagan roots. Traditionally, Samhain is a time of remembrance of our ancestors and all those who have come before.  It resembles the festival of Dia de Muertos more than its modern-day parade of costumed children engaging in trickery and collecting candy.
 
Samhain honors the cycle of death and rebirth. It is one of the times of the year when “the veil is thin between the worlds”, allowing us greater insight and intuitive knowing.  We remember those we have loved and those we have lost.  We make altars with offerings to honor those who have come before us, reminding us of our connection with the cycles of life and death and the thread that binds one generation to the next.
 
While the true meaning of Samhain has been transformed over the years to entice the pagan populace to convert to Christianity, we can still see its influence in the feast of All Hallows’ Eve, when Christian martyrs and saints are remembered. 
 
This year, once the candy has run out and the porch light has been turned off, take a moment to pause and remember your own linage.  What gifts have been passed on to you from those who have come before? What traditions has your family passed on for generations? What family stories will you share with your children to help them connect with their ancestors and their history?  Can you feel their loving guidance on this night? As long as we remember, they are with us still.
 
Blessings on your journey, 
Louisa

Notes from Louisa

Last week, for the second time this year, night and day were in perfect balance. The Autumnal Equinox, and its twin, the Vernal Equinox in March, are the two days of the year when the Earth’s axis is tilted in such a way to equally balance the light and the dark, giving us twelve hours of each.
 
The days will now become progressively shorter as we travel toward the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year. Paradoxically, the day that signals the beginning of the winter season, December 21st, also begins the Earth’s journey back toward the light, with days becoming progressively longer again.
 
In the months that follow the delicate pause of the Equinox, as we in the Northern Hemisphere descend into the darkening of the world, our sisters and brothers on the other side of the globe are drifting from their point of balance into the emergent spring.
 
Somehow, I have always found it comforting to think of this global symmetry, knowing that, while half of the world is awakening from hibernation and watching tender buds push their way through the earth toward the sun, the other half of the planet is preparing for the long nap of winter. There is balance here too.
 
The more the world becomes a smaller neighborhood, helped by the increase in international interactions borne of technology and the understanding of our interdependence, the less strange it seems for my neighbors in the Southern Hemisphere to be in the opposite environment from my own. 
 
I am now more accustomed now to see colleagues from South Korea attending meetings in the middle of their night due to time zone differences and I have gotten up at 3 am myself for the opportunity to collaborate with colleagues across the world. 
 
Sometimes, in the heat of self-righteousness or rigid beliefs, we may forget that we share this planet with seven and a half billion other people. We may overlook how our actions here might affect someone we will never meet, thousands of miles away. We can all look up to see the beautiful light of the same moon, but we can’t do it at the same time.
 
Perhaps it is time to widen our lens and our appreciation for the totality of life on this beautiful planet. These seasonal reminders always offer fresh teachings on the nature of our world and how important it is to play well with others. We have, after all, only one precious sandbox.
 
Blessings on your journey,
Louisa