Privilege Blog

When Friends Say It Better, Or, Saturday Morning at 9:20am

Photo by caratakesphotos, https://www.instagram.com/p/CFed7wGl9EQ/
Occasionally someone articulates how you are feeling so well that you give them your voice in thanks.
The photo above, and the words below, are by my friend Cara, from her Instagram feed, caratakesphotos. (Note that she is on hiatus just at the moment but her archives are a pleasure.)
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equinox
/ˈiːkwɪnɒks,ˈɛkwɪnɒks/
aequi nox
Equal Night.
The world held in balance, day equaling night. The last of summer’s harvest, the tipping point into the darkness of winter. Persephone’s return to Hades.

Yesterday was Autumn Equinox in the northern hemisphere, the official end of summer. Yesterday was too dark (literally, metaphorically, emotionally, physically) to post but I wanted to acknowledge this time of the year, even if a day too late.

I hope you managed to take a pause yesterday, a moment to acknowledge this place we’re in, this edge we are standing on. There is healing in the darkness, space to connect with parts of ourselves frightened off by the bright light of summer, and I hope we can all find at least some small moments of that amid the dense cloud that’s descending upon us from above.

And if that’s too much to ask, then let’s just get through it, one increasingly dark day at a time. Okay? Okay.

Southern Hemisphere buddies – you made it, well done! Hold your faces to the light and soak in every ray, gathering them close to help you through the days ahead.

***

If there has been anything good about quarantine, if I am, as another friend has termed it, “Pandemic OK,” it’s because of what Cara calls, “space to connect with parts of ourselves frightened off by the bright light of summer.” In this enforced closure I have been paying attention to the small quiet beasties of my self. Their teeth are tiny; their purrs are loud.

They tell me how to size chairs for spaces; how to exercise with a vacuum cleaner; how to listen even when I really want to speak; how to eat more legumes; how to drink less wine and enjoy it more; how to ask my loved ones for what I want; how to calm before sleep; how to remember (or, frankly, convince myself) I’m a great person.

Have a wonderful weekend, everyone. Oh, wait, I should call it, “Pandemic wonderful,” and hope that something of the sort is available to all. If not today, tomorrow.

 

12 Responses

  1. Feeling “pandemic wonderful” up here in Canada, Lisa. Although we are having a Covid spike, and my husband and I have decided to pull back on even the very few things we were doing out in the world… we’re still doing fine. We just returned from a weekend of fishing and camping. The fish did not bite and it rained every night. But we had wonderful campfires, long drives down backroads bright with fall colours, and found a spot that makes the world’s best butter tarts. Small pleasures can life so sweet. xo

  2. This is a lovely post. Thank you for the grounding words amidst our strange days. Hope is what I am attempting to turn to and hold onto; hope and the good and love. Happy Saturday.

  3. Lisa –

    You are not just “a great person” – you are smart, sensitive, thoughtful, open (within reason), funny, caring, creative, energizing, honest, and loving.

    But most of all, you are a seeker after truth, wherever that journey takes you. And that makes all the difference.

    Happy Birthday, sweet child –

  4. Wishing you a very happy birthday! Thank you for all your wise words and wonderful blog. All the best, Susan

  5. So great to someone from the north acknowledging our hemisphere. We in Australia are doing fairly well, due to a reasonable (albeit conservative) government. The Kiwis are doing really well, thanks to their fabulous leader, Jacinta Adern. I watched the documentary ‘Hillary’ on tv tonight, and couldn’t help thinking how different things could have been during the Coronavirus, if the results of that election had been different. Sorry if this is too political. Just mean to say many of us feel for your pain.

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