Showing posts with label autumn equinox. Show all posts
Showing posts with label autumn equinox. Show all posts

Thursday, September 26, 2024

Screaming Doesn’t Help (much)

not-quite Journaling, 73

Screaming doesn’t seem to help much,
so
I shall harvest myself a soothing.


9/22/2024: I’m not dead. I figured I should put that out there right away. I haven’t been feeling awesome--physically or emotionally--but I’m getting better. I lost several friends, to a preventable accident, in the last few weeks. The grief hasn’t been easy on my flesh or bones or spirit. I needed a break… I’ve spent a lot of time crying (all right, screaming rage-filled tears), reading old favorites, watching my plants grow, letting my Piano Man comfort me, smiling at messages from many of you (thank you!), and straight out roaring with laughter at increasingly outrageous memes from Rommy (humor--particularly dark humor--is one of my favorite medicines, and mi querida amiga knows that).

Today, I chose to celebrate the Autumnal Equinox by doing some harvesting and delighting in the gifts my wee garden has produced this season. I pulled the sweet potatoes out of the soil with my bare hands--the dirt felt warm and alive, and I bet the potatoes will taste just as life-giving. The tomatoes have been sweet, juicy, and plentiful. The passion fruit needs more time (we can relate, can’t we?).

I’ll spend the next few days catching up. I hope life is being good to you. I hope the world isn’t causing you much pain. I hope society’s current turmoil isn’t clobbering your nerves. I hope you are as well as is humanly possible. I hope… for us all.

 

on days marred with loss,
I
’ll let autumn rain cleanse pain
of flesh and spirit


 – for Poets and Storytellers United (Friday Writings #146: Substitutions)

Friday, September 23, 2022

Peace

I grow peace in the purple sweet of lavender, in hardy roots that find power in their home soil, in bee-kissed blooms that scent cloud and sky. I chant of birthing green, of filling bellies, of calming dreams. I touch my cheek to lavender sprigs… and skin-to-leaf, we share our wants and needs. I sing to them of foresting stories in the soothing dark, plants hum to me of seeds in the sun and of rain in the night. I grow peace in the purple sweet of lavender, resting in scent, in color, in life.


photo by Heather Ford, on Unsplash


- yesterday, the Northern Hemisphere celebrated the Autumn Equinox. I spent it collecting seeds from my garden, and hoping for gentler days for the world (for my flesh and bones, too).  

 - for Poets and Storytellers United--Friday Writings #45: War and Peace.