dispatches from the wild interior: September 17

5 of Cups: Less than a week out from the fall equinox, we can feel the season starting to turn. In the same way we become an age over time and not on a specific day, the year ages into itself. As we inch toward balance, toward equal amounts of light and dark in this thing we call a day, we’re invited to consider where we’ve been directing our gaze. Are you so engrossed in the spilled wine that the water in the standing cups is starting to glaze over with dust? Or is it the suffering you’ve kept your back to and is it time to turn your face, finally, to the grief? And once it’s all faced and felt, here’s another invitation: to look up. To feel the sorrow and the rejoicing race up your body like water drawn up a tree from root to trunk to leaf and look – where are the birds headed? Where are you?