Wednesday morning. Cold. Gray. The equinox—Mabon—is around the corner. This year it’s the 22nd. Balance of light and dark. As the light continues to fade. As the darkness comes in. The second of the three harvests. The dying of the light.
This time of year used to frighten and depress me. Now I take it much more in stride. It’s still a time of drawing-in, of quieting. Of storing this year’s crops for the future. Of being grateful for the light as it wanes.
The goddess is phasing from mother to crone. The wheel is turning again. The dianic year is ending.
I’m grateful for my spiritual tradition. For the never-ending wheel.
I’m grateful for my life. For a new-business referral from a business friend. Possibilities afoot!
I’m grateful for my work and my clients.
I’m grateful for Tarot class.
I’m grateful for making it through the farmers market without tasting any fruit. No fruit this week. Day three of fourteen.
I am so so so grateful that my car does not need the up-to-$400 repair on its underbody. It’s just a low-slung car. Phew! Gotta stay off those dirt roads.
I am a grateful woman. I am blessed. And I bless all the wonderful people in my life.