Sunday, 30 August 2009

Seasonal Shift


I don't know how the seasons are running where you are but here in north-east Scotland it feels like the end of summer, some of the time it is even autumnal. It started with the morning and evening air blowing cooler, then cooler breezes followed us around throughout the days. The light is different. Is the sun sitting lower, illuminating the sides of buildings? There are already leaves on the road for goodness sake.


So the penny has dropped, we have spent the whole of the summer in Scotland and some of its neighbouring islands. We headed north in May and we are still here at the end of August. It just happened. Once again we chose a general direction with some definite must-see places and here we are three months later.



I was able to get hold of a copy of Yoga Journal in Perth the other day. I need to find this magazine from time to time to remind me that I have a yogi heart, if not always a yogi's discipline. In this copy there is a sequence of poses to be practised in the spirit of turning the senses inward. Learning to be present without getting distracted by external stimuli will lead to equilibrium in daily life and ultimately wisdom in one's actions. Sounds like a happy goal to me.

So, feeling physically tight and mentally tossing around ideas for the next phase on our journey, I knew a slow, gentle and focused practice was exactly what I needed. I set myself up with my lightweight mat (bought specially for my travels), some foam blocks and a blanket for support and propping up, and my magazine with its routine and guidance.

As I took my time steadily working through the sequence, concentrating on maintaining comfortable long breaths and surrendering to the postures, a deep feeling of quiet washed over and through me. I realised what a seasonally apt practise this is. The exuberance of summer has passed and it is time to accept the cooling of the breezes and the shortening of the days. Time to make plans to hunker down and keep warm and dry. Time to reflect on where we have been, where we might be heading and time to get on with the writing and the knitting.



T

3 comments:

THIS'N'THAT said...

Hi, I know what you mean re Autumn drawing on. Even down here in Devon its cooler in the morning, lots of those spells of misty drizzle and blackberries on the brambles (yes, in my garden ... it's so neglected that I'm thinking of getting a set-aside grant for it!).
I know what you mean about the light. As the sun is lowe it's that lovely hard light in the mornings and evenings. They make the pebbles on a beach look as though they all have black outlines!
Lesley X

Tracey said...

Yes and I fancy a bit of that hard light right now. The weather forecaster on Scottish BBC this morning used the word 'dreich'. We thought we knew what she meant but Pete looked it up for clarity. It means grey, dull, drizzly, miserable, overcast, cold, misty. At least 4 of the above must apply for the weather to be truly driech. It was definitely driech today!

ajdesq said...

... this is why I need to head North in the winter and stay for a couple of weeks. Might get it out of my system.

I like what you're doing right now. I've been making hay while the sun shines and now am on the final mad dash until the clocks go back and I go home to hibernate. It's not the going home I yearn for, it's taking the time to sit and 'be' and reflect and take nice creative photos and write uplifting messages... I think you're getting closer and closer to bottling and selling what you're doing so you can keep doing it.
A x