To Everything, There is a Season

And a time to every purpose under Heaven.  Wise words.  In Native American tradition, the season of Autumn is associated with middle age.  It reminds me to take stock of myself.  Where am I along my Path?  Am I where I want to be, where I believe I should be?  If so, Winter will provide a respite, a time to rest and just allow myself to be.  If not, which is usually the case, it reminds me that the clock is ticking, and my days are numbered.  I’d better get back to who and what I am supposed to be before my time runs out.  I’m so easily distracted that I wander from my path all too easily.  I’ve been like that since I was a little girl.  Autumn reminds me to focus.

I am ambivalent about Autumn.  I love that Summer has let loose of the thermometer and allowed it to cool off a bit, for which I am extremely grateful as I tend to melt in high heat and humidity.  But the tempering of heat reminds me that in all things not static, the pendulum swings both ways.

Cold is coming.  Snow is coming.  Aching bones and air so dry I get nosebleeds is coming.  Winter is not a friend of mine.  We have a love/hate relationship, Autumn and I.  Autumn invariably allows Winter to tag along when she visits, and Winter always overstays her welcome.  If Autumn was really a good friend she would make Winter behave a little better.

Autumn fills me with introspection.  Yes, it’s beautiful, with the changing leaves and fields dotted with bright orange pumpkins.  Yet even these remind me of the inexorable passing of time.  You can’t go back, you can only move forward from where you are now.

Joni Mitchell’s Urge for Going speaks eloquently of the feeling Autumn stirs in me.  Mainly, time time of year makes me sad for the opportunities missed, the chances not taken, for not reaching out when I could have for fear of rejection.


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