Denial. Longing. Wonder. Sadness. Hope.
In the span of a few hours, these are some of the feelings or emotions or thoughts streaming through my consciousness. As the daylight decreases, nature tells me not-so-subtly that now is the time to be serious about what I am going to lay fallow this winter.
Mainly I cannot believe fall is nearly complete. Some of the trees still haven’t dropped their leaves. It seems last week the ginkos finally decided to go ahead and let go, but there are still some maples ablaze. This week is Thanksgiving. I haven’t yet put Halloween in the attic, and I haven’t done our grocery shopping . . . or even made a menu/list. I’m already seeing Christmas lights.
I long for what I can’t have right now. Leisurely time to cook, to plan, to watch the kids think and grow, to create, to write, to daydream out the window into the dazzling autumn light or through the heavy gray. I yearn to take back all that I’ve taken for granted in the past year. I long to be. I’d also like to do everything better. I’d like to do and get done that which needs to be done.
Yet I’m amazed at all that has passed, all the blessings we have. I cannot fathom the significance of all that is and is to come, and I wonder at how all these pieces will fall into place. There is so much Mystery. . .
. . . and so much suffering. I can’t help sometimes from letting it creep up on me, dwelling on it a bit too long. Whether it be personal, trivial dis-ease or greater, universal suffering, it can catch me off-guard and sit heavy on my heart. This must be carefully tended in these winter months.
As the song and sound of the children’s choir rings gently and beautifully in my mind, I sense the hope that Light brings and feel the cycle moving onward, forward, bringing me with it. Light and shadow and ever-present hope through faith. Unexplainable, really. Beyond words. Now is a time to live into the experience and learn as much as possible. My teachers are everywhere. I kiss them good-night. I listen to their stories. I wonder at them and with them. I laugh. I cry. Always, though, I am learning and growing.
The leaves are falling.
The roots run deep in my soul.
What will spring reveal?