At this time of year, right before the end of daylight savings time, there is such a warm but sharply mysterious quality to the light late in the afternoon. Right now, the trees have lost most of their leaves, but with the sun so low in the sky, it shines brightly with nothing filtering it, at such an odd angle. (This is when I hate the fact that I'm not really a very good nature writer. I've been reading some relatively unknown works by Rachel Carson, and, in effect, wishing I were her!)
Perhaps this pale, strident yellow light is resonating basically as a "calm before the storm". I don't know what will happen next week, or exactly what the repercussions will be, but there does seem to be a quality among people I am meeting of a collective breath being held. Is it fanciful to think that even Nature is holding Her breath? In a more Goddess-centered world, I doubt such conflicts between radically different sides would even exist. Leadership would be more wisdom-based, inclusive, and circular, not top down. Easy enough to say, isn't it?
I envision a leadership that includes Nature -- and directly. I'm not quite sure what I mean by this, except that people would meet outside or in a setting with large windows, inviting Nature in, including Her in many decision-making processes. If people "sat" immersed in the magical quality of the late-afternoon, late-fall light, they might naturally come to different kinds of conclusions than they do in most human-constructed offices and cavernous assembly chambers, under artificial lighting. We might listen to the hawks circling overhead, or honor the wisdom of the stream rushing by, or think about the future as it relates to the earthworms burrowing below us. We might "see" the light in the grasses, and in the roots of trees, and in the pinecones. As societies, we may be cutting off our potential for enlightenment by doing more and more of our work inside or on screens, away from the genuine light of day.
Sunday is traditionally the hardest day of the year for me, when it gets dark around 4 pm for the first time. I don't think I have "SAD", but that first shift backwards is always a bit traumatizing. I try to remember that the "certain kind of light" is what it is, whether we humans determine that it is happening at 4 pm or 3 pm.
