Friends,
The first Sunday of October. The last quarter of the year begins, and the calendar on the wall has fewer pages left than we have already turned.
In the north the evenings are closing in. In the south they are opening. Everywhere, the light is changing its mind, a few minutes each day, without asking anyone.
Eight minutes tonight. 8 PM your local time. Sit near a window if you can, and watch what the light is doing at eight o'clock where you are. Nothing to add. Just notice it turning.
Because the practice moves with the hour, it is always eight o'clock somewhere. A rolling wave, once around the Earth, every week.
Come as you are. Even behind. Even restless. Even halfway through something.
See you later, in the silence.
Dedication: May we turn with the year gently, and let the light change without holding on.