Today is the September Equinox.
The days are growing shorter, the darkness increases.
When I began journaling this morning it was still dark. But as I wrote, the promise of the dawn began to appear over the houses opposite, above, a few clouds ribboning dark against a fast brightening blue.
It wasn’t long before the dark ribbon clouds lit up salmon pink: a new day and a new beginning coming with the promise of taking me into light.
The clouds were then set on fire with pink light and still the sun hadn’t risen.
The promise of a new day is the most beautiful, teaching me a lesson.
I turn off the light in the room and the colour and brightness outside seems to intensify. Now there are more clouds and they are turning orange and yellow through to pink, I take a picture – the sun almost here.
A lightbulb may immediately change things (and I’m glad for this, living in Scotland with very short days to come), but nature reminds me life moves more slowly through stages.*
I know I can’t suddenly and quickly become a person filled with more light than dark. I must turn up every day and trust the slow journey of small things which I hope will see me becoming a person who might brings more light as foresight, intention, and love into the world.
This morning the dawn causes me to value my slow journey in the same direction.
(*Check out this post from Seth Godin for a snapshot of lightbulb culture.)