I do have some pretty sweet Fall memories. When I think about it, some of my favorites are from my college days, when I lived in Southern California. Fall doesn't really exist in SoCal. There may be a few deciduous trees that send up a flare of color for a day or so, but there is definitely not a shift in temperature or a noticeable change of seasons. While I was in college, I made my own Fall. I told my friends about all of the fun things one could do in this season at home--admiring trees, drinking homemade cocoa, eating caramel apples, carving pumpkins--and then we did it. We searched out those few colored leaves, we put on the air conditioner if necessary, or we sat outside after dark until there was a chill in our bones, and we sipped that hot cider and cocoa as if October really did feel like October.
The more I thought about it, though, I really began to feel like there was a significance about the changing colors of this shifting season that really speaks to my spirit. My joy in this time goes beyond the creature comforts that fill the lengthening days. My heart was so refreshed when my husband sent me home for a quick Autumn visit one homesick October while I was still in college. The smell in the air, the crisp feel of the wind, and the view of those trees--as well as some good hugs from my crazy family--really helped me feel renewed.
While driving to work and thinking this over, I had the realization that when the leaves on the trees change, they are actually dying. They aren't receiving the life-giving nourishment they have had for the last several months that colors them in lime, celery and emerald greens. The best I can remember from elementary science is that photosynthesis isn't happening anymore. The trees are conserving that energy and bracing themselves for the coming winter. But those leaves... Those leaves are not about to go quietly into the cold, dark night.
I love that the leaves aren't letting go without a fight. While I feel a little guilty for celebrating their demise, I also feel strengthened by this revelation. I want to believe that when I feel as though nothing is working right, I am not being nourished, and my life seems less vibrant, that even when I can't see it something beautiful is happening. I may be falling apart, I may have to let go of a summer dream and brace myself for winter, but as I struggle through those challenges, maybe somehow it is producing a beauty, a grace, a vibrant color that others might be to able admire. I know from experience that seasons of struggle and death often produce something more lovely. I plan to link to some of those stories from my own life here.
The thing is, I am definitely one of those people who won't go down without a fight. Sometimes, I wish I was more flexible. I wish change wasn't so difficult for me. I wish I didn't struggle so much with things that seem to come easily for others. I wish I didn't fight so much to be right, only to find out so often that I am actually wrong! Sometimes, I think it is hard to be a fighter. But if I am going to live my life as a person who doesn't go down without a fight, I just want to make sure that fight is colorful and flashy and bright, like the dying Autumn leaves. Sometimes, the world needs a fighter.
*************
************
I most definitely failed the 31 for 21 Challenge! I guess there's always next year! In addition to posts about seasons that are hard but produce good things, I also need to catch up with posts about my recent half-marathon, the Step Up for Down Syndrome Walk, and Halloween! Guess I'd better get typing...
No comments:
Post a Comment