“No party,” I plead to my co-workers, who ask if they can throw me a “you’re leaving us” bash.
They listen intently and nod an okay to my protestations. But on my last day of work, I’m informed that the Board is celebrating the Autumn Equinox at 5 p.m. in our gold-trimmed China Cabin, which sits proudly on the S.F. Bay.
“If you’re not too busy packing, why don’t you come on over?” the two directors suggest nonchalantly. I hesitate. Seeing everyone will invariably lead to goodbyes, and I hate goodbyes. In fact, for the last week, amid hugs and farewells, I only allow “til later!”
But I don’t want to be a spoilsport, so I walk up the “plank” of our landmark at 5:15 p.m. and am immediately splashed with noise and laughter from the backside of the Cabin. Our Board meetings are always held inside, but it’s a gorgeous California evening – the sky is still blue-eyed and sparkling and the temp is mid-70.
As I cross the threshold I hear, uh huh, you guessed it, “Surprise!” and am garlanded with Hawaiian leis and a pink-rosed wrist corsage. The wine is flowing, a table is filled with catered cheeses and breads, olives and fresh asparagus (hey, this is healthy northern California, after all), and I’m surrounded by dozens of colleagues.
I send the evil eye (with a twinkle) to the two directors who planned the shindig, smile for the professional photographer, and realize – well, this is my equinox.
Equinox – the time of year all of us are encouraged to think about balance, as the Earth balances day and night equally.
As I blow kisses and shout out “Til later!” I balance the sadness of leaving friends and an exuberant job with the excitement of re-uniting with my right-coast friends and family and renewing a challenging career in novel-writing.
I balance joy and sorrow.
I balance CA harmony and NE energy.
I balance tears and laughter.
And equally, I balance the value of all the above.
I wish you balance and light and love in your Autumn Equinox.