Equinox Musings by Sharifa Oppenheimer

Autumn 2024

Soon we will come again, in Earth’s ever-cycling movements, to autumn’s balance point. The circular dance of waxing and waning ~ of growth, abundance, decay and regeneration ~ slows to a still point. Rhythms stretch out wide at this nodal time, as day and night reflect each other in perfect balance. The waxing summer’s warmth, light and growth pause here, in this celestial moment. Summer’s abundance is all around us, if we make time to rest and gaze. Oak trees shower their harvest as a cascade of acorns carpets the forest floor. Mushrooms golden, orange, umber, pink and purple push up through leaf mold. Apple trees bow low offering their sweet burden to our woodland neighbors: deer, mice, raccoons and bear, while persimmons glow among their still-green leaves. Beware the too-eager forager who does not know to wait till after first frost. Walnuts drop their treasures wrapped in viridian layers. Abundance and generosity are spread before us in both forest and field.

These generous gifts precede and guide us toward Gaia’s time of inwardness ~ her time of rest and regeneration. This bestowal of slow-time offers all of nature and humans as well, an invitation to explore the balance of opposites as we turn toward inward reflection and transformation. We honor the gifts given us by radiant Light and do not fear the mysteries of the dazzling Dark. We are given time to explore the balances we witness in nature as they are reflected within our soul.

Is my life well-balanced between work and rest?

Between a busy social calendar and quiet home-time with family?

Between work indoors and rejuvenation in nature’s healing rhythms?

Between screen time and human time?

Let’s learn Earth’s lessons of regeneration. She takes the dross of summer’s abundance ~ flower stalks, fallen leaves, decaying persimmons, walnut husks ~ she holds and incubates that which is dying, allowing time and alchemy to work its transformations. Springtime’s upsurging energy reveals this primal metamorphosis, black gold lies on the forest floor: fresh loamy fragrant soil. We too can compost old habits and ways of being, old mind-constrictions that disempower us, old stories that disallow inner freedom. Now is the time and here is the place. But how do we “compost old habits?” How do we move out of mental concepts and toward embodied wisdom?

Ritual is the way the body understands meaning. Let us engage in rituals that honor, celebrate and give gratitude to the beings with whom we share the more than human world. When we practice these earth rituals, the qualities of the seasons become embodied in our human psyches while we become more deeply embedded in the breathing, living earth. In this way we nourish the spirit of lands and waters, of plants and animals. We also align our bodies, hearts and minds with the Anima Mundi, the soul of the earth. Here we find health and wellbeing, joy and purpose.

A Day of Joyous Ritual

Choose a day during this season that is open, uncluttered and ripe for celebration. Gather family and friends, pack a picnic and journey to your local apple orchard. Lift the children into the branches to reach the ripest, sweetest fruit. Fill a basket, fill another. Together with the children, give gratitude to the bountiful trees; honor the pollinators who hover close. Back home after the orchard picnic, everyone helps to core and peel apples. Given the correct knife, small hands can join the slicing. While applesauce simmers on the stove, gather kindling and firewood. Children love picking up the small sticks and crushing the paper. If they are older, they can help build the “tipi” of kindlings. Fire is traditionally central to an autumn festival; ask the children to join as you bow to the Spirit of Fire. Point out the fire of our own celestial star, the fire beneath the simmering apples, the fire there before you in the pit, and the fire within our bodies. Give gratitude and honor. As the Equinox sun sets eat dinner by the fire. Be held in the many-colored rays of light….gold, rose, sienna, pumpkin. Clear the dishes and tell an autumnal story: see the one below! For stories are the way the young child and the human heart understands concepts. After the children are asleep, return to the glowing embers. Write on a piece of paper one old habit you are ready to let go. With intention and commitment put the old habit into the flames. Next morning spread the fire’s ash into the garden soil; you will have taken a tangible step toward nourishing a new way of being. The phoenix arises.

At this time of quiet pause, may these Equinox musings encourage you to step outside the door. Come with me, stand in alignment with your family, the generous earth and the spiraling cosmos.

Here is a story for the children in your life. It is taken from the vast treasury of gems that Waldorf teachers share.

I’ll Tell You How the Leaves Come Down

“I’ll tell you how the leaves come down,”
⁠The great Tree to his children said:
“You’re getting sleepy, Yellow and Brown,
⁠Yes, very sleepy, little Red.
⁠It is quite time to go to bed.”

“Ah!” begged each silly, pouting leaf,
⁠”Let us a little longer stay;
Dear Father Tree, behold our grief!
⁠’Tis such a very pleasant day,
⁠We do not want to go away.”

So, for just one more merry day
⁠To the great Tree the leaflets clung,
Frolicked and danced, and had their way,
⁠Upon the autumn breezes swung,
⁠Whispering all their hopes among—

“Perhaps the great Tree will forget,
⁠And let us stay until the spring,
If we all beg, and coax, and fret.”
⁠But the great Tree did no such thing;
⁠He smiled to hear their whispering.

“Come, children, all to bed,” he cried;
⁠And before the leaves could say their prayers,
He shook his head, and far and wide,
⁠Fluttering and rustling everywhere,
⁠Down sped the leaflets through the air.

I saw them; on the ground they lay,
⁠Golden and red, a huddled swarm,
Waiting till Sister Snow from far away,
⁠White blankets heaped upon her arm,
⁠Should come to wrap them safe and warm.

The great bare Tree looked down and smiled.
⁠”Good-night, dear little leaves,” he said.
And from below each sleepy child
⁠Replied, “Good-night,” and murmured,
⁠”It is so nice to go to bed!”