It’s just after Samhain, but not yet Yule; the leaves are all but gone from the trees, their life force moving down into the earth and inward into themselves. Down and inward to sleep, heal and rejuvenate, the trees in their perfect way herald the beginnings of Dream Time.
Contemplative and introspective, this in-between time at the end of Harvest is one of readying and reflection. In the quiet and stillness that comes after the feasting; in the moment after taking stock and stocking up, preparing for the coming cold and dark of winter, lies an opportunity to reflect on where we’ve been the past year – and what we have now as a result. Provisioned with this priceless knowledge, we begin to playfully visualize possibilities for our future.
We take the time to look truthfully at what remains of the season’s harvest; what is actually there must take us into – and sustain us through – our Dream Time. Questions arise that might prove uncomfortable, but are nonetheless realistic: is what we’ve harvested enough to get us through? Are its final seeds strong and plentiful, that we may place our trust in them to grow, when planted, into what we hope they will be? We must be honest with ourselves in our assessments; always remembering that it is our own judgment – and not those of others – that will prove the most reliable. It is a private time; rewarding in its teaching and renewing in its promise.
At the end of this season we, in time with the trees, go inward to perform our Inner Harvest. We take the joys, trials and memories of the past year and wrap them lovingly, comfortingly around us as we anticipate the possibility found in our dreams, sparked by the inspiration of starlit crystal night skies. We find faith in what we’ve gathered, and hope in our Dream Time.