Celebrating the Autumn Equinox Sea Witch Style

Blessed Equinox to all! Today is the day of perfect balance between light and dark in the northern hemisphere, as well as the official start of autumn. It is a day to celebrate the abundance of the last harvest, and to reflect on our personal harvests - taking stock of what we have reaped from the seeds we sowed at the beginning of the year, and perhaps we can also reflect on which of those metaphorical crops didn't fare so well. It's also a day of gratitude for the abundant harvests of this growing season, and for all that we've accomplished for ourselves, and for our communities.

As a sea witch, the theme of balance is the one I really resonate with. I discussed the need for balance in the final essay that I shared from McGee Island in August, and it's been on my mind a lot leading up to this day. Balance at work, balance at home, and balance spiritually and emotionally have been recurring themes for me throughout this year and if I'm to be honest, there are many areas that are out of balance in my life. I know that I'm not alone, especially in a culture that demands constant connection, communication, instant gratification, and that places the highest level of merit on the idea of working yourself to the bone, citing rest and respite as a form of unforgiveable laziness.

But the ocean knows. When we take too much from it and we don't do the work to balance things out, it will demand everything in payment. So too will our bodies and minds if we continue to live our lives in a way that is so grievously off-balance - working non-stop, glorifying the hustle culture, beating ourselves up for being "lazy" if we take time or breaks to attempt to re-charge.

When I last got to the water, it was this line of thought I had in my head. I knew that my to-do list was long (an understatement) and that everything on it was a priority. It seemed that the ocean knew this too, and although it was just a couple of days before this equinox, at flow tide when I arrived, the waters captivated and captured me. I settled into my space as the tide came in. I opened my eyes, and then opened them again, and I began to see endless treasure all around me. Endless trash, too, sadly. So I scoured the shoreline, picking up trash and treasure alike. Then, just before peak high tide, I got in the cold water and began to float. I felt the recharge, the gift, the energy returning. And instead of returning home after, back to the endless list of priority items that had to be done for the shop, for the house, I walked the shoreline, through the water and on drier land, again and again. Restoring balance. Removing trash that the high tide brought in, as if to say, "Please take this."

The gift of energy, the gift of beautiful sea glass and painfully tiny, perfect shells - in exchange for the removal of all that we leave behind. Restoring balance. Giving myself the gift of respite, even if it meant a more unbalanced load later. For that moment in time, I felt centered, grounded, and balanced.

Of course, this day isn't just about balance. Even as I write this now, on this equinox, I think back to the spring and the seeds I didn't yet know I was planting on McGee Island, and I am grateful for this harvest. For being able to give as I receive; for leveling up my own intuition and practice; for the expansion here at The Sea Wych Salem - not just the shop expansion but the expanded reach I've cultivated on social media platforms, the expanded services I can offer here, the time given back to me to expand those services even more when I left my full-time job.

I thought of all of this, too, when I took that last summer-time float those few days ago, and afterwards, when I was sitting on my "sittin' rock," watching acorns and a handful of yellow and green leaves floating at the tideline as the water began it's ebb tide retreat. I thought of how grateful I was to be sitting there, bundled back up in my hoodie, energised by the cold waters, and tuning my mind to listen to the silence falling along the shoreline. The "noise" of the vitality of summer's waters and shores was gone. There's a sense of settling in, of burrowing deep, of waiting now for the long dark soon to come. I sat with that for some time, hearing the quiet shush of autumn coming to our shores. Now it's here, and I am grateful for that too.

I hope that your equinox is full of good food, a perfect balance, and an abundance of things to find gratitude for. Use this time today to reflect on what's been, and to look forward to what will be - and if you do anything special, share it with us in the comments!