Every year fall equinox takes me by surprise, the glow of summer shifts with the first rains and bright leaves curl, crisp and fall just when the garden harvest seems generously overwhelming. I was reminded by dear friend Woniya Thibeault that this shift is an invitation to notice the beauty of letting go.
It sounds easy right? To let go? It's less effort isn't it? But as I shift into another life season I notice how tightly held my unrealized dreams and desires are, how painful and heavy it feels to let go of them.
I know in my work as a land tender, that in order for new growth to have space, you have to clear away, compost and maybe even kill or trim away the unhealthy shoots. But why does that feel so hard to do with my own life? I find part of my heart or belly clutches onto that story, that person, that possible future. Can we honor those rooted connections to our former selves, to former lovers, friends, unrealized futures as a part of our story while deeply knowing it is time to let go? What do we do with the disabling grief that comes with that letting go? Where are the spaces in our communities to hold that grief and witness it?
I fled to the eastern mountains this week, to a place shaped by fire, to be sharpened by obsidian. To learn and make medicine from stones that have been used around the world to harvest animals and plants, that are used as mirrors to peer into the future and into other worlds. Obsidian helps cleanse the spirit, your psychic field, to cut cords with people you no longer wish to be tethered to, and to support healing from sexual trauma, and shift unhealthy patterns set in early childhood. I often introduce obsidian in my sessions and see it as building a relationship on the table with my clients. May we all remember to humbly seek out the gifts and receive wisdom of these earth elders in times of transition, grief and stepping into the unknown.
It feels to me that mentally letting go requires trust that something else will come, that there is more to learn discover and create when we do let go. How do we cultivate that trust? Where can we find evidence of it in our lives, or from our big teacher Earth? We know that after Fall, then Winter, there will be new shoots. How do we trust anything during this prolonged season of genocide, fascism, and rampant capitalism that all seem so counter to life? What do we do when our Earth teacher is in distress and acting in unexpected ways?
In periods of uncomfortable uncertainty, I continually fall back on the chapter "Nondoing" in Charles Eisenstein's book, The More Beautiful World our Hearts Know is Possible. He writes, "...please if you are in the sacred space between stories, allow yourself to be there. It is frightening to lose the old structures of security, but you will find that even as you might lose things that were unthinkable to lose, you will be okay. There is a kind of grace that protects us in the space between stories."
This fall, may you feel ease in the letting go and grace in between your stories.
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In this season of grief we continue to mourn the deaths of our kin across the world. I am offering 8 group free ear acupuncture sessions on October 7th to Palestinian kin as well as 3 full craniosacral & energy work sessions. Please spread the word. Here's the sign up sheet for the ear acupuncture and craniosacral therapy sessions!
I continue to support BIMPoC folks with reduced rate sessions. If you would like to contribute to this fund, please Venmo me at Sarah-Farahat and put BIMPOC FUND in the notes! Thank you so much.
We are looking for a therapist or bodywork practitioner subletter in inner NE Portland two days a week from mid October to mid November. If you are interested please email me at ardentapothecary@proton.me for more information!
I wish you all the best in this shifting of the seasons. I will be traveling to the homelands for part of October/November but feel free to book a session ahead for time at my office in NE Portland or at my shared space at Common Ground!
In Solidarity,