Sometime today, Monday, is the fall equinox. For daylight, it’s all downhill til December 21.

Back when I paid attention to seasons, fall was my favorite. It felt like the perfect season. I could explain why, but then some of you would say, “exactly” and others would say, “but what about this other season?”

What if, instead of saying (and hearing) “This is the perfect season”, we said and heard, “I really like this season.” And then, instead of arguing or expressing an opinion, we could say, “Thanks for trusting me with that insight about what matters to you.”

The other day I was preparing to talk with some people about infant death. I wrote, “you can decide who to trust enough to entrust your story to. Someone who won’t tell you how to feel or what to do or what happened to them.”

What if, with the arrival of the equinox, we looked at this as a new season to care for one another. Not all of the anothers, just one or two another. And we spent the rest of the year supporting and encouraging and listening and bearing them with their burdens.

It would be a remarkable season.