Autumn. The miraculous time of year where woman thrive in their warm, blanket-like ponchos and trendy duck boots. Coffee flavors explode into all-things pumpkin and outdoor festivities seem prominent around every turn. Children prepare their costumes for October’s end and inevitably, before we can stand it, Christmas tunes will be in every store and scene.
Can you sense my cynicism? I mean, what kind of season calls itself for what it is….Fall. The leaves fall, the temperatures fall, the rain…falls. And with it…my cheerful persona quite obviously falls right along with it.
What is it about this season the everyone loves so much? What about the colder temperatures and the flavored coffee is so captivating? Perhaps my friends can share their thoughts with me? Anyone?
Autumn has long felt like the season of goodbye’s for me. Someone said it best when they said: “A fallen leaf is nothing more than a summer wave’s goodbye.” I couldn’t agree more. Summer saying goodbye.
I can’t help but dig deep into my own records, my own thoughts and opinions and wonder what causes this unsettling of the changing season. It could be that my adult memoirs are not filled with particularly beautiful memories of this time frame. That perhaps some of my alternately, unhappiest-of-moments are hidden deep within the fall and winter calendar. The chill in the air doesn’t provide a comfort or console that my personality, for-so-very-long, desired.
So what do I do? I live here; I work and thrive here…and we have seasons. All of them. Even Fall. After what feels like a short eternity of rain (in reality only one–solid–week) my heart longs for the sun. I crave the warmth and the rays of a golden touch. My children are cooped inside with runny noses from cold mornings and the tea kettle is the most employed person in my home.
But alas, in my grumbling and complaining (which I promise) I am devoted to stopping…perhaps I can find peace with the changing seasons I am planted within. After all, it is most important to recognize that my feelings are not the object of my authority. I’m reminded: “To every thing there is a season..and a time for every purpose under heaven.”
For Fall…What is the purpose? Perhaps I can ponder the color in every tree. The branches they die, they tumble down but not before the miracle that happens within as the colors morph. It is unlike any art mere humanity could create.
For rain..perhaps the mud soaked ground is preparing the soil for a spring-ahead full of abundant planting and growth. It speaks of the harvest that we celebrate this season as we gather the food the ground has given and assemble our family and friends in communion for Thanksgiving.
The brisk air open my airways and reminds me of the breath granting life to my lungs. Each day is a gift. I am reminded.
And so with my open-hands instead of cold fists, I will welcome the changing season. My attitude can fall away right along with the leaves and just maybe I can learn to enjoy each passing moment.(More coffee, please!) Just as we wave with the leaves a sorrowful goodbye to the past, perhaps now is the time to wave hello to the coming season. And just like that?..The seasons change.
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