Took a walk in nature at the Morton Arboretum, my church. It's the time before everything turns golden. It's still in green, yet gold and crimson and rust are edging their way in. It's one of my favorite times of the year: the locusts have gone back into hiding, squirrels are doing their squirrely thing, the air is crisp-yet-balmy, and the sun seems entirely happy to peek out.
It feels like everything is in that "betwixt and between" right now. We've endured some physical devastation in the South, in the West, and throughout our country we continue to endure a spiritual, emotional kind of devastation. Yet I truly feel that we're hitting a cosmic "reset button" these days. Things that need tending to are getting tended to, in some ways big time, in some ways whether we like it or not.
So we breathe. And we ground and center. And we ask ourselves, "What is that green that needs to change to gold in our lives?" Because things that begin must end, and in so doing, may be the place where golden alchemy of spirit and self begins.
Many blessings to you.
