It’s a month past the midpoint of my 70th year as we move into Lammastide, the season of the Reaper.
As I metaphorically sort, thresh, and grind, gathering in the First Harvest, my thoughts circle round …
- I’m well aware that I have lived longer than my mother did.
- My chronic health challenges are invisible to others but impact my daily life in big and small ways.
- In some ways my life feels like it is contracting, and in other ways it’s more expansive than ever.
I still grieve over loved ones who didn’t live to see 32, or 16, or 47, or 63, or 70.
I’ve been gifted with seven seasons on the Sacred Wheel and may live to move into the eighth.
Still, we never know.
Every day is a gift.
A wise woman* once said we are here to learn about and express love; and to contribute and serve.
In the last couple of years, my thoughts have often returned to the theme of:
How much time might I have left?
How do I want to spend that time?
These questions are not maudlin; rather, they are essential.
The answer falls into place like the click of a kaleidoscope making an exquisite pattern of sparkling clarity:
Spend time with people I love.
Love up the natural world as often as I can.
Keep making art, keep writing, keep calling the circle.
And so it is.
(*The wise woman was Angeles Arrien.)
Thank you for listening.
May you consider your own sweet Reaper’s Harvest, whatever your chronological age or life circumstances.
May you the find answers that give you clarity and peace.
May you express love and be of service.