The wheeling flock of starlings, disappearing into the west, flying as one bird as they leave for their other home, inform me.
The lingering dark in the mornings which has not yet touched the sunset twilight informs me.
It is the time of the New Moon in Pisces.
As Sun and Moon gather in the final sign of the zodiac, I feel an urge to dive deep. The waters beckon, warmly promising to enfold my soul.
It is at this time of year that – as I see the signs of Winter approaching all around me – I feel a tender joy in actually experiencing the cant of the sun in his decline. Time to gather the harvest, time to see to the flocks. Time to ensure that you have provision enough to see you through the harsher months ahead.
Unlike birds, who seem able to plug into their species group soul almost at will, human animals seem proud of their individuality. We cherish it, often to the point where the individuation is seen as a needful thing – this marking out of little pieces of the One into me, and you, and thou.
I’m starting to appreciate that we have lost something of tremendous worth through this process of being individuals, though. When we need to know the way, when our compasses need affirming, when we have questions seemingly unresolved – then would we benefit from the limitless ocean of the source from which we came, to which we ultimately belong, and into whose arms we are headed at the close of our little human plays of incarnation.
This time of deepening water, when the dark gathers its power and speaks strongly to us, is perhaps a time to pause, slow down, take stock of our roots and leaves and branches, and maybe – just perhaps – become our own Messiahs.