A Season for Everything
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.
Gathering In & Letting Go
"...gathering in, and letting go..." - George Ella Lyons, What Forest Knows
We read a children's book this morning where we found the quote above and it sunk deeply into my soul as the intention of this season.
On the first day of fall, we practiced gathering in and letting go.
Fall is my favorite season and I love gathering in. Last night we had friends over for an ice cream party and I made warm, creamy lattes as we gathered in our homey nest of a row house on our brown loveseat and giant bean bags and canvas camping chairs and foldable metal chairs. I loved hearing the ideas flying as the men discussed real estate and legislation, and the women talking about everything else. I love hoarding library books and homemade t-shirt quilts, and the tender warmth of baby snuggles and snug sweaters.
But the darker side of fall for me is that it brings a wave of anxiety that can be hard to shake, and each year, this is how I get to practice letting go - of fears, of expectations, of long light days, of things I don't have control over. It's been a tiring week in my mind as I put one foot in front of the other and felt my body carry tension that I was scared would never release. I exercised and slept and prayed and wept.
On the second day of fall, we practiced gathering in and letting go.
We took a neighborhood walk in-between the thunderstorms. As I'm prone to do, I observed various things we saw and told them to Jael - "red fire hydrant, crunchy leaves, a yellow house." But as I'm also prone to do, I internalized the mini lessons God was giving me through creation we saw on the walk.
Fall Walk-servations
A crunchy grasshopper carcass on the sidewalk
A brown prickly echinacea flower with its colorful petals long gone
An oak leaf upside down on the gravel road.
Death is part of the life cycle, and old things must pass away so new things can come.
There was a gathering in
Gray squirrels stockpiling nuts
The fog rolling in, settling over the mountain like a musty old quilt
Gathering is a way of planting our feet where we are and preparing for what comes next.
There was a releasing of fruit
Berries were in disarray on the trees and sidewalks
Acorns bounced off rooftops and landed with their hats cast aside
A squirrel buried a nut in the grass
We don't always know where the fruit will land, but we must keep producing it.
Move in Rhythm with the Day
I read a beautiful poem on Instagram this morning, and my favorite part of it was this -
There are seasons to a day.
The dawn is spring.
Summer is midday.
The afternoon is autumn.
Winter comes at night.
You were made to experience this cycle each day.
Remove your walls of protection.
Move in rhythm with the day.
Always remember that tomorrow
there is another cycle,
another turn of the wheel."
-Tolbert McCarroll
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