This is a hard week for me. It’s the week my mom died, a week of change and newness, growth and loss. I’m reminded by the mums opening, by the need for more blankets, and by the rustling of leaves that will soon be gone that change is constant. That everything is temporary. That fall – and falling – is natural. Expected. Part of the many cycles that sweep us along through life.
fall of change you take what was warm and bright and start to dull it with a chill in the air inviting cozy clippers.
you take the freedom of high summer and start to bring back structure. you take what was and change it like all seasons and all seconds do.
but you close in a way that spring can’t know with its impatience exuberance. ah, yes you say to the blind joy of summer: impermanence still reigns.
oh, it’s coming: death and beauty, too another cycle smallest, biggest we still fall.
I don’t have to fall anymore only spread my wings and rise letting the wind carry this renewed body change rippling through me each day my croaking voice resounding, then resting.
the mums open the nights cool and together we fall.
And so today, I’m throwing out the to-do list and instead carrying this note around with me in my pocket:
Including: loving the mums. Swimming in the cooler water. Wearing slippers and cozying up with my favorite blanket. Shopping for new curtains. Watching US Open tennis. Lighting a candle. Making peppermint tea. And embracing the start of fall.