....cast of characters

Yogis,
The equinox we experienced on Tuesday is one of four transitions throughout our year. The December winter solstice, the darkest day of the year, is the beginning. One quarter of the way through we hit the balance of the spring equinox, as daylight then begins to outweigh night, followed three months later by the summer solstice. The longest daylight of the year. On then to the autumn equinox and finally back to the beginning. A complete cycle with each of the four heralding in a new season.

Everything in nature exists within a cycle. If we were to look to the moon, those corresponding four points in the same order would be the new moon, first quarter, full moon and last quarter. In our breath it would be the beginning of the inhale, halfway full and then the peak of the inbreath, followed by halfway empty and the end of the exhale. A birth, growth, decline and death.

Everything in nature exists within a cycle.

However, we are the only creatures that no longer live our lives in accordance with this natural rhythm. We are the only ones that require artificial constructs such as calendars and clocks to tell us what to do. Everything else, from the tiniest ant to the giant redwoods know no other way than being in sync with the beat of the Universe.

In the name of progress, the more inventive we become, the further we move away. Electricity took away the importance of light and dark, and hot or cold as we can control our environment with the flip of a switch. Unlike the deer, we no longer have to graze on local seasonal food, as transportation brings us anything we desire with a short trip to the store or a click of a mouse. We don’t need to know which way is south as GPS will take us there.

When I look at the state of things today, I can’t help but wonder if our detachment to the natural flow and our grasping onto the material world of thinking and acquiring plays a role. Have we lost our gift of intuition? Of knowing? Of trust? I look to my garden for guidance.

As the light shifts the bugs know. Its as if a whole new cast of characters arrived this week! Wasps with red rimmed yellow eyes jostle for space on the late blooming Goldenrod. A dapper long bodied orange beetle clambers up the stem.

A toad takes up lodging under the dense mat of my black eyed susans, making an appearance each time I sit nearby. One of those new insects must provide a tasty meal. And snails now adorn the leaves.  Where do they all come from and how do they know it is time?

I often feel a yearning to reconnect to the ways of the world. To let go of the material and lie back into the flow that sits right outside our door. Do you ever feel that?

There are many ways we can begin. Simple things. Like always knowing what stage the moon is in and where you will find her in the sky. Watching your yard, like a sundial, throughout the year to see the shifting movement of the sun across the sky. When close to water, knowing the high and low tides and feeling their distinct energies.

Being able to point to the four cardinal directions while standing on your front yard. Belonging to a CSA to reconnect with our food source. Or planting a garden…..even in pots….to re-learn the secrets of the earth.

I watch. I listen. I feel. The sun rises tomorrow at 6:54 am……..

I am not separate,
SARAH

....melancholy

Yogis,
On Tuesday we will experience the equinox. A day sliced in two by twelve hours of light and twelve of dark. A moment of balance……to be followed every day thereafter with increasing darkness and lessening light. Fall is beginning and this week my runs started in the dark and ended that way as well.

Like clockwork a rush of brisk autumn arrived as I searched my drawer for long running pants and a jacket for the first time. Socks rediscovered. Suddenly memories of pumpkins, fires and jigsaw puzzles flooded in along with the word ‘melancholy.’ A pensive sadness.

The cheerful lighthearted singing of the wrens has been replaced with the more somber call of the owl and the raucous gathering of flocks beginning to make their move. My favorite August insect symphony exiting stage left to allow the crickets their turn to shine. Squirrels prepare while the bees savor the final days of the sun hanging high in the sky.

The combination of menopause and a scorching summer have caused me to relish the cool down, yet the melancholy lies just below the surface. This year even more pronounced as the shift to inside will bring with it more restrictions, solitude and quiet. Throw in unrest and a divisive election and darkness holds new meaning.

My garden still abloom in yellows is overgrown and messy. Ducking and maneuvering to reach the center. Green tomatoes hanging on, soaking in the fewer and fewer moments of sun. A black snake silently slithers by while plants go to seed. I spend time with it all while I still have the chance. Melancholy.

I watch, remembering that melancholy is ok. A sensation that causes no harm as long as I don’t attach. Knowing it isn’t me. Visualizing this fall and winter as a time to read, learn and be. Finding joy and warmth within.

This year more than ever I will put to use all of the tools from my yoga toolbox. This is the reason we practice. Conscious deep breathing calms the nervous system. Spending time in silence quiets the mind. Movement brings flexibility to both the body and spirit. Practicing the art of being in the external world without being disturbed. Shining the inner light to keep the path bright regardless of where it leads.

The warmth will return soon as all transitions ebb and flow. Not yet putting away my shorts and sandals. Still clipping some herbs.

A breeze causes the dried leaves to rustle.

Looking inward,
SARAH

....a wedding wind

Yogis,
It’s hard to believe it was only four weeks ago that I got the call from a friend asking if I would officiate his niece’s wedding on the beach in Rehoboth. It was a story we are hearing much too often these days. A large wedding planned for quite some time that could no longer be. Flights, hotels and large gatherings not possible at this time.

Should they wait until next year? Have a smaller event in a church? Find clergy that will marry them in an outdoor space? Elope? All options that couples in 2020 are feeling their way through. Each offering unique obstacles. Family members who can’t travel. Local rules that seem to change daily. A few steps forward, several back and then side to side.

This couple has been together for 9 years already and it was time. Yes! I responded.

In Covid fashion we met weekly on Zoom to get to know each other and together plan a ceremony that was meaningful to them. The nuptials to be done on the beach with our toes in the sand, followed by a reception with eighteen humans and six dogs under a white tent on my friend’s driveway. It is amazing how a tent and white twinkly lights can transform a slab of concrete into an intimate fairyland. 

We had it all planned. The procession, the vows and the shell in which the rings would sit to be blessed. Or so we thought….. but the one thing you can’t plan is weather…..and the day before we watched with worry the call for 17 mph gusty winds directly from the east at wedding time. Yikes! What to do?

Yet again options considered, and alternate locations scoped out. It would be a game time decision. Two steps forward and one step back.

An hour before the ceremony, the couple headed to the beach and yes the wedding winds were blowing, but oh well! We were on. Hair up in a ponytail, papers placed in plastic sheets, and a heavy conch shell grabbed to use as a paper weight, while five of us literally wrestled with the white fabric to wind around the wedding arch. Tripod legs buried into the sand for stability for the zoom attendees.

We turn and here she comes. Lindsay looking stunning in the perfect dress while Kevin nervously smiles from ear to ear, his beam as bright as the sunflower on his lapel. We watched her approach under a magical blue sky. It was simple. It was perfect. It was what it was supposed to be.

Throughout all of the planning, hiccups and disappointments there  had always been one thread running through the center which was so strong that even a global pandemic could not stop its path…..their deep love for each other and the choice they had made to commit themselves in holy matrimony. And isn’t that what a wedding is all about? Everything else is extra.

As everyone formed a circle around them, we paused to notice where we were. The rhythmic pounding of the waves our music while the wind swept briskly through and around us. Wind is the element of air and is the symbol of our breath. I realized we were all being breathed on by the Universe and it felt awesome. A wild and wonderful wedding wind.

This was the third wedding I have officiated, and each one has been such an honor and a blessing. Being able to bear witness and provide the container in which love can do the work it does so well. 

I introduce to you Mr and Mrs Goff! 

With an ‘I Do’….they did,
SARAH

.....thoughts from a tent

Yogis,
This week was my 4^th annual camping trip to Assateague Island. A gorgeous Maryland state park set on a pristine beach with camp sites that offer a parking space, picnic table and fire ring. What else could you want?

A couple days away from it all where the biggest daily concerns are keeping food cold, setting up the tent and trying to hold onto at least a semblance of cleanliness. A few days of consistently living out in the elements and sleeping on the sand.

This year I noticed that life appears different from inside a tent. In the quiet cocoon you can think and notice. Here are some of those thoughts…….

Quiet hours
When making a reservation you must agree to terms, one of which is an adherence to quiet hours from 10pm to 7am. No generators, loud talking, barking dogs, car door slams or music. It’s like going back in time, where the only thing happening once the sun is down is sleep.

Night is easy because by the time it is dark and you have been out in the sun and heat all day, 10 pm seems like midnight. But in the morning, as the sun rises, your eyes open early. Clock says only 6:30. You lie there. Seeing the new day. No rush to leap into action or do anything.  Listening to only the sounds of nature.

At 7:01 like clockwork you hear the first stirring. Voices. Car ignitions. Breakfast plates. Feeling the shift as the world awakens.

I think we need to add the quiet hour terms to life. Wouldn’t that feel good?

 

Intermittent Sleeping
I love sleeping in a tent! Lying on my sleeping bag, I watch the full moon rise over the tips of my toes. I doze and the next time my eyes open she is a spotlight overhead. Everything around us lit and quiet. I dive into a vivid dream.

A low growl from Phoebe as I look through the screen by my pillow. A wild horse lumbers from behind the dune. Another and another and another…. as they encircle us. Their heads one foot from mine while they graze. Sounds of chewing, tail swishing and hooves stomping, sending a vibration through the earth below. Their energy palpable. The moon now setting behind my head.

Intermittent sleeping. Yet somehow in the morning I am ready and excited to begin yet another new day. 

The sky
When lying in a tent your view is of the sky. Stars. Low lying puffy clouds that provide depth to the dark. Swirls of color. The sun. The vastness of life so apparent. I am reminded that I don't look to the sky often enough.

Om,
SARAH