hand me a flashlight

Today was the equinox. I saw nine clients today. Every one made me mindful of the door we were stepping thru into our descent into darkness. The couple who had recently delivered a stillborn child, the fifty seven year old who was breaking up a 17 year old relationship, the couple who were scheduled for a c-section who just found out the placenta had moved and they were free to deliver “naturally”, the client who was struggling to let go of the substances he’s used for over twenty years; every hour today I stood with clients who stood on some threshold.

And then I came home. My son’s father was scheduled to come over to work out our calendar for this fall’s perusal of possible high schools for our son. My housemate Ilyse was leaving for a 10 day trip to Canada. When she returns, she will no longer be inhabiting her flat, but will have moved up a floor into new space. Fern was recovering from an intense spate of cramps due to her struggles with endrometritis. In this mix, I’d invited my goddess daughter over, knowing that she’d just found out her parents are separating and she could use the stability of the chaos at my house.

So, I roasted some free range chickens, prepared salad and various savories, and baked an apple pie. My goddess daughter and my son set the table and, once everyone arrived, we sat down to eat.

My goddess daughter was direct and on target. She looked at my son’s father and said, “I guess you know my parents are separating”. I’d told him, ,moments before we sat down for dinner, but he equivocated. She was relentless, and he finally conceded that he’d just found out.

I’m amazed by the evening. My ex-husband and I attempted to comfort my beloved goddess daughter, while our own break-up loomed large in the room. Old patterns and energies flew around the room, some catching, some passing on thru. It's clear to me what I've totally let go of, and what remains firmly stuck. There is balance in this, and the evening revealed what I need to shine a flashlight on.

What an equinox this is! Tomorrow I will eat the last piece of the pie for breakfast and prepare to descend into the dark. And somewhere off the Gulf coast, the storm is dancing.