....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