The Autumn Equinox has passed and a new season is upon us. Whereas, Spring gently melds into Summer, the transition at this time of year somehow appears more noticeable with a late harvest of the fields, the leaves beginning to colour and apples dropping from the trees.
I’m feeling the veil between the worlds starting to thin and with last night’s full Harvest moon I find myself reflecting. Counting my blessings and appreciating the fruits of my own personal harvest as the wheel of the year nears full cycle.
I’ve faced some hefty challenges. The extent of which is only just beginning to land and as I muse the impact of the lemons hurled my way I am reminded once again of the polarity in everything. Often we look at the ugly wrapping but in order to turn the lemons into lemonade or transmute them completely into orange juice we need to dive deep inside because within each challenge there is always a gift of opportunity to be found.
Back in March, my son was in a dark place. He hit the bottom of a downward spiral, struggling with addiction with seemingly no way out. He asked for my help and even though I’d heard those words before, there was nothing more I could do.
I felt bereft, hopeless and helpless and shared a long post to my facebook page asking for prayers for my son.
What I’ve come to learn is the incredible power that gathered from those collective prayers. Those prayers were like hundreds of little seeds of hope being planted in readiness to later harvest the fruits.
Seeds grow in the dark, nothing much appears to be happening at first. But underneath the soil those seeds were taking root.
Two weeks after writing that post I was allowed to call him. I was informed by the centre that he had left a couple of days ago with only enough money to make a phone call.
He hadn’t called me. There was no more information they could give.
I couldn’t hide my emotional state and broke down in tears, fearing the worst for his safety.
As my sobs subsided I remembered the post and the collective conscious of prayer. I began to sink into a state of calm and acceptance as I re- read the hundreds of comments. There wasn’t anything for me to do. This was his path now. If I could stay surrendered in a space of love then fear would be impossible. I had to trust in a miracle.
How collective prayer works I do not know, it just works.
For he was safe, he found his way back to the South Coast and was, and still is clean.
A root had firmly taken hold in those couple of weeks and over the last few months I’ve observed my son coming back to his self. This week he reached another milestone in returning to full time work.
And this is my harvest. Seeing my son well, laughing again.
I want to celebrate with you my mighty crop of joy and show my appreciation for your prayers.
May the blessings of Autumn be with you.