We’re going to be celebrating the agricultural aspects of the autumnal equinox slowly this year. Having had the Plague (yes, again) during September, and also laying to rest an esteemed elder family member, the equinox came and went almost unnoticed in our home.
Almost.
We noticed the squirrels’ thievery of chestnuts.
We noticed the slow turning of the leaves and the gradual graying of the skies.
We noticed the increased moisture in the air even on days that weren’t filled with rain.
We noticed… but didn’t have the energy to NOTICE. Or plan. Or do. Much.
The equinox this year coincided closely with a full moon. Had I regained energy, I would have tried to clean the porches, and tidy the house. I would have planned a lovely stew and pumpkin muffins. I would have started bringing in the plants that are too tender for frost, and moved closer the house the plants that need just a little protection. I would have finished planting the new perennials…
But didn’t. So those tasks will happen as they can, and as they must.
Today is a week after the equinox, and I am following medical advice and resting at home. It is not raining, and any clouds are in the future. The sun is shining through a large gap made by the removal of native-but invasive bitter-cherry trees that caused the chestnuts and other trees in our front garden to grow, awkwardly, toward the north rather than east and south (our house is to the west of the front garden, and helpfully, to the east of the back garden).
The sunlight has backlit a perfect orb spiderweb in the corner of one living room window – thankfully that one is outside. A different arachnid ran across the living room floor while I was reading – and third “hobgoblin” as I call it ran across my keyboard carrying an egg case the other night as I was reading online.
Spiders relocating and secreting their progeny is emblematic of this time of year.
We’ve heard geese flying.
The leaves are changing color, and in some places starting to drop already.
We’ve had early windstorms and trees and limbs have come down. Fortunately, not this time in our own yard. Power outages scattered around our county, and evidence on the roads where trees have been removed after falling across the lanes.
…
And at the end of the week when I started writing, I am home “early” (on time) with my desk left in a mess at the end of the day. I had to hurry home faster than expected.
And now…
It’s a month later. Almost to the time when the ancient folk wisdom says the veil is thin between the living and the dead. The weather has not yet turned truly stormy for us – indeed today it is sunny and warm for the time of year. It’s another Wednesday, a day I am supposed to be resting. And I have.
And I am frustrated and tired that I don’t have the energy to enjoy the beautiful weather, or work on projects that I enjoy when I am home, or spend time with friends occasionally, that I don’t have the energy to go get the prescriptions that were ordered for me (that should help with the energy…), that I am STILL limited to doing “just one thing” each day most days.
And that I cannot trust my body.
That I cannot plan and prepare meals that are nourishing and healing without significant and constant help.
And that I cannot trust others to help. Or at least I cannot rely on them to be there.
I am tired of asking for help, for finally being able to articulate what I need
(and still not being heard).
I think I am just tired.
I know I am still recovering from the Long Covid, and a lifetime of undiagnosed ailments that have worn me down.
I know I am in pain and struggling – as so many of us are – with complex geopolitical and climatic crises that are evolving “faster than the news cycle” : I gave up checking the news more than once a day : doomscrolling changes little.
Everybody I meet tells me I should this or that. And no one understands that I don’t even have the energy, time, or brainpower to tackle topics I am already an expert in, and excited to learn about… That I don’t have the energy, time, or brainpower to participate in the activities that I know will help me recover, that I find rewarding, that I enjoy.
No one understands.
Or so I tell myself in the moments when, as now, I see time passing not as days on the calendar, but as gaps in posts I write, as gaps in projects started and not-yet finished, as gaps in friendships and relationships.
And, as I get older, and more and more people are on the other side of that veil, and I have less and less time for my own “someday?”
I have a sense of urgency to be, and to do, the person I want to be.
Before it’s too late.
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