We were one day late, but heck, not too bad! Thursday is our regular Community Dinner day, and the Equinox itself fell on Wednesday, March 20, this year, late afternoon, only a couple of hours prior to the Full Moon!
I had already said what we had planned to do during our ceremony , and podmate Gabrielle had sent out a notice to the dinner list to that effect. So . . . when the time came, just about everyone had thought about the challenge, and came internally prepared. But first: photos, of the larger than usual group, over two dozen, including three adults and two kids who joined podmate Solan — unfortunately, I did not get their photo, except for this phenomenal knitted coat! —
— neighbor Mariella and her mother, visiting from New Jersey,
— and as usual, our sweet three-generation line-up, Wanda, Eva and Sophia.
The meal itself was more elaborate and scrumptuous than usual (perhaps in response to the fairly skimpy offerings of last week’s meal! unusual, for us) —
some of the diners filling the den —
others the kitchen —
— and the atmosphere was so convivial that when the time came to do ceremony, it took a bit to quiet everyone down. But that DID happen, and when Gabrielle brought out the tiny pieces of paper upon which we were to write down something that we had been working on internally over the six months of darkness, and that we choose now to let go and bury, composting to regenerate new growth over the coming six months of light, we were ready. Everybody assiduously passed the clipboard and pen and wrote down their offering. We invited anyone to speak about their process over the winter, and a number of people did. I remember especially three people, who spoke of their need to get out of their own way and allow life to happen without trying to control or predict it — and I’m remembering now as I write this, the neighbor who did not attend, but who told me, when I mentioned what we were going to do to honor the Spring Equinox — indeed, she did not just tell me, she growled, “There’s so much I would like to bury . . .”
Given her very private nature, I doubt she would have spoken up, had she attended.
Afterwards, three of us trouped outside and buried all the tiny pieces of paper in a common hole, in the garden that holds the gigantic elephant ears, soon to be arising once again, out of the miraculous soil.