Time of (im)balance -- the Equinox

September, named for the seventh (not the ninth) month, has a lot of pull and tug to it. Day and night find a moment in the eye of change to sit the barycenter, stop arguing who is supreme, who owns what and how much. In that moment, there is peace. Then the moment passes. Yet one thing remains -- thanksgiving for the moment and all such moments in a lifetime that seldom balances. No matter what this time of year is called: Harvest Home, Maebon, Winter's Finding, Fall Fest, Autumn equinox, the energy I find in it is Thanksgiving. All day, I've been thanking things. Thanks to the stove, to the teapot, the coffee mill, the water tap. thanks to fire, the sun, water, air, earth. I sing. Which may be annoying to any listening, but there is no one listening. Except maybe folks on the other side, and surely they've grown accustomed to it by now. i sing praise songs -- always have. To Whom, I'm never sure. Today, I sang a spontaneous song to my Dad. I'm always thanking Mama -- my natural Mother, Grace, the All-Mother, Frigga, and my Cosmic Mother, Earth. But today, I thought of him. It is nearly his birthday (September 24, 109 -- August 17, 1983). He was a gentle man, very kind. He had the wandering feet and was never in one place long, leaving his wife and kids behind often as he went on to what he thought might be a better place, a better job. I'm sure he always imagined he'd bring them to a nice home somewhere and maybe even have a car and other things he wanted us to have. I'm sure that was on his mind at some of the points along the way. But though he worked hard, there was always a Friday night coming and ... well -- I wrote it before: http://yarrowxpress.blogspot.com/2011/09/it-was-autum-equinox.html He is part of the celebration, too. That's the balance.