This time of year is translucent.
If you begin digging into Celtic lore and druidic beliefs, (as I am wont to do) you will quickly find reference to liminality and all that word entails in relation to the Autumnal Equinox. (Or Mabon).
This hemisphere of the world is experiencing a significant change, and if close and careful observation of each day is attained, the thinness of perception seems (to me) more clear to other realities.
This sounds weird, I know. Sometimes it even seems weird to me.
But it's true. And I can only base my reflection off of my personal experience.
Just think of it.
The trees and plants know, in their own unique way, that it is getting colder. They prepare. Their leaves die, but turn vibrant shades of color as they do.
Animals scavenge incessantly, and the light wanes, shimmering everything in lustrous gold.
Some plants bloom and ripen in a rush of energy, like the tomato plants and cosmos. Some plants start withering and turning brown.
The birds are more quiet in the morning, and chipmunks yell.
Turkeys traipse through the back lawn, little baby fluff heads sauntering in the morning light.
More neighbors have fires going more often, and the smell of it mixes subtly with the mossy earthy smell of decomposing leaves and plants.
Everything is shifting. What once seemed permanent for two whole months is changing again. And to think we humans would be left out of the equation? It can't be.
We're part of the landscape too.
I am part of the landscape.
This particular landscape is the land I grew up on. I know it in a way that's hard for me to describe. I've recently made an inner commitment to stay here for the rest of my life, to settle here with confidence. The realization has sunk in around this time, resulting in a hyper awareness of where I physically am. (That means the negative associations must be integrated along with the positive).
The last two weeks have been full of translucency. Things that are happening mean more than meets the eye.
I have started physical therapy on muscles in my neck, back, and jaw that have been locked up tight for years. Most of my life if I'm honest. I have muscles balled up in my neck, like tiny pellets of metal, and I clench my jaw tight all the time.
I learned today about myofascial connective tissue, and how it is wrapped around all of my muscles like a blanket. Its all out of balance. One area of tension directly affects other seemingly unrelated areas. But now that I know, things are coming clear.
Everything needs to flow now. Whatever that means.
The first day of physical therapy resulted in me reuniting unexpectedly in a random place with an old and important friend that I had not seen in a huge amount of time. It was truly a moment where it felt as if I had been led by some invisible force.
My second day, today, resulted in my driving through a double rainbow and golden hills, the translucent golden gateway to the town of my childhood.
I drove through the hills and the light was equally gray and crystalline, and I noted that both physical sessions dealing with the unclenching of my body were paralleled with the unclenching of my landscape and relationships.
This isn't coincidence. This is the very heart of liminality. At least of what it means to me.
This time of year is translucent.
A translucent gateway laced with gold.