The wheel is always turning, and in the Northern Hemisphere we find ourselves turning ever more towards the dark part of the year. The first harvest has passed, the days are slowly getting shorter with slightly later sunrises and slightly earlier sunsets, and I am now starting to notice leaves are already slowly changing (which is a little earlier than usual).
I recently visited a local orchard with my daughter to pick some fresh blackberries. The orchard / farm is enormous at almost 100 acres in size – with endless apple trees of every variety as far as the eye can see, and berry patches and brambles mixed in here and there. Soon pumpkins will be available for picking, and the corn maze will be set up for some autumn fun. The farm is so big, they have farm trolleys taking visitors to various parts of the farm to pick what they need. We hopped off our trolley, and I was soon lost in the task of picking blackberries. It was just my daughter and I with no other visitors, so we split up and I went down one row and she another.
The blackberry brambles were tall – at least a few feet taller than me and the rows were narrow, so I felt closed in and alone, and this solitude was a comforting feeling. I was so glad that there were no other visitors while we were there. I took this quiet time to still my mind while I picked, and this was something I sorely needed as my personal life is quite busy at the moment. Between caring for my husband and managing his medical care, preparing for a cousin’s wedding (happening in 2 days!), and helping my daughters complete last minute tasks before heading back to college, I am stretched pretty thin and “me time” is almost nonexistent.
Being able to go inward while picking berries allowed me to center and ground myself in a way that I haven’t been able to do in a while. It was just me, the blackberries, and the land. The time between Lammas and the Autumn Equinox is all about letting go, just as Demeter and Persephone are preparing for her descent at the Equinox. I took this time to think about how I wanted to move forward. These last few years have been challenging personally due to my husband’s deteriorating health and me finding myself caring for him and managing his extensive medical care. Now that we are in a sort of predictable – but busy – pattern, I am better able to manage my time and devote more to what I want to do for myself, rather than always putting everyone else first and taking bits of time here and there for myself when there was some to spare.
I made a promise to myself to make time for me, and to nurture and cultivate what will help me grow beyond who I am now. I will do just that, though how much time it will take is anyone’s guess. The phrase “know thyself” is something that I am always hearing in my brain, and that is one of my current tasks that I am making a priority.
I have been a devotee of Hekate for many years, and lately I have been feeling this primal urge to blaze a path for myself that I never would have dared to undertake before. I will always, always be there for my family. They are everything to me – that will never change. I feel I can better serve them if I am finally able to be true to myself, which I am trying to do. Transformation and change is never easy, and Hekate has been a guiding force in my life for many years – especially during times of vast change. Telling me to remember who I am.
The late summer / Autumn months are a time when we turn towards the dark. Turn inwards and nurture those seeds that have been planted, and allow them to germinate and grow in the fecundity of our soul. Persephone returns to the realm of the dead in September, tending to the departed souls who are preparing for their transition to a new life. This is a cycle that repeats itself, literally and metaphorically. With nature, and with our inner selves. We are also Persephone; preparing ourselves for what may come next as we cocoon ourselves and tend to our needs. Be still, and listen.
The photo at the top of the page was taken at the local apple orchard mentioned in the beginning of this post. As my daughter and I were walking back to the main part of the farm (we decided to skip the trolley ride back), we passed by a field of wildflowers with rows of colorful blooms. I spotted this bee buzzing from flower to flower, enjoying the nectar they provided. The sighting of this sacred bee was no coincidence, and a fitting end to our visit to the orchard. Bees are sacred, and in ancient Greece the Melissae was a title given to priestesses of Aphrodite, Demeter, and Artemis. Bees were often associated with Persephone and the Underworld. My birth name is Melissa, and my mother told me that she had a different name picked out for me before I was born, but Melissa is what I was named instead for reasons unknown to her. I now understand what forces were at play that early September morning, because I have always had a strong connection to bees and my spiritual practice and interests center around these goddesses in addition to Hekate. But that story, I think, would be suitable for another post.
© Melissa McNair / The Torch and Key
The Torch and Key 