Today is the equinox. Right now, the sun gleams and the trees toss in the wind, but soon soon it will be dark, and the only hope is of Advent glittering in the wings.
The equinox always brings an odd sort of fear. Of course I know that the sun keeps rising, that it is only a mildly poetic angst that lets me ponder unremitting darkness, but the tension is still there: how will we get through it this year?
But just for a day, before I dig out the light box, and start dreaming of star light and pine boughs and candles, I will try to enjoy the freedom of the turning point: the wild risk of standing on the edge, as the world holds itself in perfect balance.
My last spiritual director tapped into my obsession with balance quite quickly, and she used to encourage me to play with it. Stone walls, stepping stones on the river… anything at all that left me teetering on the edge and translated mental gymnastics into physical realities. Anything at all to ground me in God.
And as it happens, the new session on meditative prayer begins today.
What fun awaits.