Writes Brigit Anna McNeill . . .
The year has come to a close, summer and spring’s fertile energy of growth and productivity has decayed away; the energy of the land is no longer geared towards outward displays. A soft wet darkness has taken hold and it is time to go inwards.
Inwards into our soil, closer to our souls, the dark and non-verbal place of feeling, where the language older than words sings to us and we find the voice of who we are, the seeds that wish to be grown into our lives.
A threshold opens up on the land, inviting a whole new way of being, a way that is as ancient as the earth’s bones but which goes against the modern cultural narrative of busyness, youth and productivity. And because of this, many struggle with the invitation the wild gives us at this time.
For perhaps those that struggle have depended on certain ways of being that give them external validation, or perhaps they haven’t learnt how to sit in quietude with themselves and fear what they will find there.
Yet the wild shows us over and over that we are cyclical beings, ever changing and shifting so we can live a healthful life; that the inner journey is just as vital and the outer.
This time is an invitation to drop all that isn’t you or what stands in the way of your becoming, and like a heavy cloak, let it compost away, so you can come nearer to your own magic.
This is a death, a death of old ways, given up as a gift, so we can grow.
– Source
Art: “Starry Night” by Philip Gladstone.
