This collection of goodness, in honor of the autumn equinox, is an invitation to take stock at this seasonal transition - to "harvest" all the good with gratitude for what we've experienced over the past several months and "compost" what no longer serves by letting go of attitudes, beliefs, or behaviors we have outgrown or wish to change. I've included go-to favorites and something that landed in my inbox just yesterday. Hope you enjoy!
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"Kinder" by Copper Wimmin
This is a gorgeous acapella invitation to gratitude and letting go.
Who Are the Friends of Your Soul? by Lissa Rankin, MD
I love this perspective on friendship, or what often passes for friendship in the culture. Reading this recently, I thought, if a community could be a soul friend, then that's what I hope ALTAR is - a place where you are at once fully accepted as you are and lovingly pushed in the direction of your highest self.
A Spell for the Fall Equinox by adrienne maree brown
Among the prolific and varied treasures writer and activist adrienne maree brown regularly shares is Murmurations, her column for yes! magazine. More of her magic in future installments, but for now, yesterday's offering, A Spell for the Fall Equinox:
the nights stretch themselves over our harried hearts there’s no differentiation now each day we come apart in new ways at old seams we age on the edge of crises we thought were hyperbolic til they knocked upon our door
one answer to the chaos is hibernation one answer to the fire is snow
let us carve out caverns
for our rest now
howl down the dust and let
no harm come as we sleep
lay naked
and huddled
the truth is forever muddled
the fools took the future hostage
but we are seed and spore
one answer to death
is a haunting
one gift of each harvest
is more
let your leaves fall down
and sing to your ghosts
nourish life with everything
you release
ours is not the only life on earth
nor the only death
let your altars hold the earth
and the sky, and sea
it is time to gather and grieve
time to listen and pray
time to find the cave that
curves against our spines
shorten every work day
to catch the brief sun
be bare under softest blanket
dream of pumpkin, root and pine
the half earth grows dark
inviting you to rest
the hungry earth needs the dreams
that only come with depth.
The Word By Tony Hoagland
This week was filled with urgency and over-doing. At some point, the phrase, "among your duties, pleasure is a thing that also needs accomplishing," from Tony Hoagland's poem floated into my mind. Like the gift of sunlight in the poem, it shifted everything, so I decided to record it in case you needed to hear it too.
by Tony Hoagland
Down near the bottom
of the crossed-out list
of things you have to do today,
between "green thread"
and "broccoli," you find
that you have penciled "sunlight."
Resting on the page, the word
is beautiful. It touches you
as if you had a friend
and sunlight were a present
he had sent from someplace distant
as this morning—to cheer you up,
and to remind you that,
among your duties, pleasure
is a thing
that also needs accomplishing.
Do you remember?
that time and light are kinds
of love, and love
is no less practical
than a coffee grinder
or a safe spare tire?
Tomorrow you may be utterly
without a clue,
but today you get a telegram
from the heart in exile,
proclaiming that the kingdom
still exists,
the king and queen alive,
still speaking to their children,
—to any one among them
who can find the time
to sit out in the sun and listen.
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