The leaves burn red and blaze orange around me and for a moment I’m caught unaware – breathless. In the middle of all this beautiful change I feel every part of me smile and weep and yearn all at the same time.
What is it about Fall that causes my thoughts to tug at the edge of my heart?
I listen to the leaves rustle. I watch them wiggle and flutter dance and I wonder:
Is their’s a dance of excitement? Are they ready to spring free and soar on the wings of the wind? Or are they restless and clingy and trying desperately just to hold on with all their useless might?
Seasons change, I know that. And every season brings with it the same push and pull, hello and goodbye. I know that too. This isn’t my first rodeo, as they say.
But somehow, Autumn’s magnificence is greater — its letting go more severe. Autumn is beauty and tragedy. It’s all things full and all things empty. Autumn slaps you in the face with magnificence then demands in no easy terms, “ Now. Overnight. Let go.”
Fall forces all things to be settled. Finished. Harvested. Made ready for Life to be blanketed in the peace of Winter’s sleep. To be not ready is a sad leaf clinging to a barren limb only to be pushed off later anyway… so why hold on?
So, yes, Fall tugs and tussles in me.
Some days I want to break free and tumble cross the universe. Blow this branch that I’ve clung to way too long and kick up my heels in a daring back flip that wows the crowd. I want to travel paths nudged solely by the passing whim that blows behind my steps. I want to get swept into the twirl and the swirl of it all…, unfurl my wings to adventures unknown.
Some days I just want to gently fall. Let go of waiting. Let go of trying. Just simply let go… and let the leaves fall where they may. And provide cover for the roots below.
Some days, the thought of falling makes me tremble and shutter and cling all the more. Below me speaks of death and dying, aging and withering. I scream, “NO!, I’m not ready to let loose my colors. I’m not ready to fall lifeless among the masses. I’m not ready to wait for the rains and snows and feet to trample me to a soggy, heavy mess? Where is the glory in that?!”
So my heart waits and watches – caught up in the winds that swirl my way.
I grasp tightly.
I release willingly.
…Autumn’s dance is funny that way.