Harvest Season

Good grrrief and hoooly hell Charlie Brown. 

August was one helluva month.

Three raves, two ceremonies, one Garlic Festival.

Friendships nurtured, renewed, forged.

The tending of life in the Cabin.

Fire relit and mischief reborn.

2-3 hours of singing daily.

Words spilled endlessly.

A 5 year chapter ended.

August brought the bloom of all I’ve been working toward this year.

With September here, Harvest Season is nigh. 

I was asked on the wekeend what my plan moving forward is, which is when I realized that I don’t have a plan. Nor do I have any desire to brew one. Instead, my modus operandi has shifted from planning to orientation. I choose the compass, not the map.

Meaning!

Singing is a focal point. I love the groove I’m in with these Whimsies. I found a vocal refinement for The Velvet Telegram I’m excited to play with. Mythic Alchemy is coming to life. Tending to Yuki, the plants, the garden, relationships, and myself never stops. 

Suddenly, life is full.

And I wouldn’t change a thing. This path is like sipping a glass of mead in the heat of July. If time were frozen in this moment forever, I’d pour Time a glass too.

Sure, there are some results and achievements I’d like to become reality, but those fruits need time to ripen. And so long as I stay aligned to this path, ripen they will.

I see no need to rush or force or grasp or clutch.

You can’t control when a fruit ripens, but you can control the environment.

Which is what Harvest Season is about: staying in alignment with this orientation.

I’ve plumbed the deepest depths of my consciousness this year, where I found secrets I didn’t realize I was keeping from myself, dreams buried since childhood, old wounds in need of healing, desires suppressed rather than accepted.

Now they’ve all been seen, released, and welcomed home.

^{^}This is required for Harvest Season. Fruit cannot ripen when the roots are rotting. When the vines are tangled, leaves are sun-starved, and the soil is parched.

So I saunter forward, bright-eyed and steady-flamed, to see what unfolds, expecting nothing, but so very keen to see what wonders tumble from the trees.

Shall we?

With love from the forest,

~ Alexander