First day of autumn. And with it - rain. All through the night. Such a welcomed sight, sound, smell. In between the gusts of wind and shaking leaves, a collective sigh can be heard. A kind of 'ahhhh' as the water soaks into the trees, flowers and earth.
The temperature has also dropped. Being a born and bred New Englander, I don't go much by the southern hemisphere's idea of seasonal change dates. Here, the new seasons are heralded in on the 1st 's- 1 June; 1 September; 1 December; and 1 March - autumn. In my bones I know the seasons change on equinox and solstice dates. So when people here say things like, 'This isn't much of a day for the first day of summer!' I hold my tongue and think, 'Give it three weeks.'
Old timers in the parts where I grew up used to say that if you look at the weather on the equinox, you will get an idea of prevailing weather for the next six months. I have got to say, the times I took note of this, it proved eerily accurate. What no one wanted to see on March 21 or September 21 was the weather blowing a strong nor'easterly gale. The old timers also used to say that winter wouldn't come until the ponds were full. In other words, if there wasn't sufficient autumn rain, then the winter would be mild. Another observation which proved its truth many times.
These bits of Yankee wisdom were told to me by old timers who lived their lives on a small island, 14 miles to sea. There is a reason why talking about weather is a commonality - it is something we all live with every day. And when you live in a small community, buffeted by weather, wind and tides, you develop keen observational skills. The weather determines your livelihood. We come from agrarian societies - the weather meant feast or famine. Being able to read the weather patterns, and intuit what they meant, could be the difference between life and death.
We live now in a society where other people tell us what the weather is. Sometimes, listening to their forecasts, you have to wonder if they have windows to the outside or if they have ventured out of doors. They rely on computer mapping to tell them what's coming, instead of their senses, memory and intuition.
Sound familiar? Sometimes we can get so far from our own selves that we believe what others tell us instead of what we intuitively see, feel and know to be true - in our bones.
The old timers didn't have the technology we have today. Yet I would listen to their observations every time over what a weather report on TV might tell me. They listened and felt what was going on around them. They were connected to nature and to community. They took the time to listen and observe. And those skills allowed them to sense things 'in their bones'. They put trust in what their surroundings were telling them.
We have had a very hot and dry summer and throughout it all my husband has been saying, at least once a week, 'I think we could be in for a cold winter.' To which I think, 'Yeah. Not going to happen unless we get rain.' So, as I sit here on the first day of autumn (southern hemisphere time) and the weather is cool, blowing a gale and raining, I think it could very well be a cold winter. And I am thankful for my husband's persistence in getting us set up - there is already wood in the shed and a new, hopefully warmer and more efficient, wood stove waiting for installation.
I will be noticing the weather again on the equinox but for now, I am listening to my intuition which is saying, 'My husband might just be right...'.
Bright blessings for this transition between seasons. Remember that all you need to know is within you, if you are able to still the mind and listen. If you are feeling out of touch with this, step outside. Immerse yourself in nature. It will help you to hear and feel what you need to know. It will ground you back into your body; back into your intuitive self. Happy autumn/spring.
I have just launched The Ocean Oracle on the App Store. It's a funny thing to have it out there, to be at this end of a process that began nearly four years ago. I am excited and happy; pleased and grateful. As well as feeling a bit distraught, empty and at a loss. The creation and delivery of this oracle has been a part of me for a long while now. The publishing feels like a birth. And now that it's birthed, I feel a void. I am no longer in control of it. I have nurtured it and shaped it and now I need to let it go. I have done what I could with it and now I need to trust it will find those it can help, those it will resonate with, and those it will heal. Just as it has done all these things for me, and continues to do for me as it makes its way into the world.
The process has been remarkable. It began in a February morning meditation when I was strongly guided to write an oracle based on the ocean and its ability to heal. The vehicle to do this was through story and messages. And so it began. Although I knew this process was about healing I needed to do, I also felt the stories and messages I was intuiting would have healing for others. I knew it was something that needed to be 'out there', available to a larger audience.
It didn't matter how many publishing house rejections I got, I knew my oracle was worthy and important and needed to be available. I knew it offered healing on levels people needed healing. I started making decks myself, selling them at markets and on-line through my website. And then a friend mentioned making the deck into an app.
What I love about the app idea is its instant accessibility and availability. Millions of people can have ocean oracle wisdom at their fingertips. My desire is for this app to go viral. I want the Story and Messages the oracle offers out there, out there doing what it's meant to do. This world, OUR world, needs healing. We need to remember who we are - we need to remember our beauty and brilliance, our light and our gifts. We need to remember these qualities individually, so we can start healing collectively. We know what happens when people are hurting and in fear, so disconnected from themselves and who they are. We are reminded of this every hour of every day if we watch or listen to the news. Imagine the world in which people are healthy and tapped in, connected to their source. Imagine the power of love when we are all okay, functioning from a place of healing and not hurt. This oracle offers the remembrance of our true soul selves. In this place of remembrance, healing begins.
I feel very strongly about The Ocean Oracle and what if offers. There have been times when I wonder about how hard I need to push, but everything feels right about how the oracle and the app came into being. Now I need help. I need help getting it out there, further. I want people to know it's available. I believe one of the best ways is word of mouth. Please tell your friends, tell your family, share with your networks, share your stories. It's a brand new year and a brand new world, full of infinite possibilities. What passion, what spark of an idea, are you going to follow this year? I would be honoured and grateful if you would share The Ocean Oracle - my spark of an idea ignited four years ago. Allow it to be part of the journey - for your Self and the world.
I learned the word liminal recently. It was the perfect word, at the perfect time. Like most words, it can have a few definitions, but what resonated with me was its reference to the space between; a transitional time; a threshold. Between what was and what is. Or what is and what will be. The space where we are neither one thing nor another.
I think why I fell in love with this word recently is because it described, in one word no less, where I've been. And as difficult as that space was at times, it was also incredibly joyful.
Most everything in life is a process and often we are unaware of these transitional times. We move seamlessly from one thing to another. Like breathing. We inhale and we exhale, not often aware of the space between breathing in and breathing out. If we focus on that space, the experience becomes something new. Something else.
That leaving of the old to start something new. The space in between is liminal space. And that space can be all manner of things. It can be overwhelming because we are essentially in 'no man's land'. We are not our usual self. We are no longer connected to what was, nor yet present in what is to come. And that is the beauty of transition; of being on a threshold; of liminal space.
In that space, though, we can feel vulnerable, lost, anxious, depressed - it's not a space we are used to hanging out in. We go through transitions all the time, every day. Between sleep and wakefulness; between daily activities; between wakefulness and sleep. We are often not aware of them. And some of the transitions are easier than others. But what about the bigger transitions - changing jobs, partners, homes, towns? Those are all major changes. Do we give ourselves enough time to transition? To be present in liminal space? What would happen if we did?
I have recently been gifted 2 months of, essentially, liminal space. While I was in this space, I was uncomfortable. I couldn't understand what was going on. I was in incredible flow. Highly creative and happy. Yet giving my self such a hard time because I wasn't making money. It was such a fight between what I love doing versus mainstream money making employment. I feel like the space was a gift because it was a special time. And although the transition hasn't been something tangible, I feel like a completely different person; slightly askew from where I was. But totally taken with where I stand and the view around me. I feel like I have crossed a threshold.
I didn't know I was in transition - I just knew I was no longer where I was, yet not arrived at where I was going. Liminal space describes exactly where I was, the whole time. Who knew?! I am ever grateful and ready to step forward.
I love the power of story and story telling and writing is an integral part of my healing journey. More about me here.