Fall is NOT GUILTY

(picture taken in the backyard today)

I recall that first fall living in Utah in 1980. I was a fresh-faced college freshman having arrived from a part of the world that did not know seasons beyond mild temps, plenty of rain, rolling fog, and mist. I drove with a new roommate up the canyon above the college to a part of life I had not known. The colors were so vibrant that I felt awe and a presence like a life-wisdom I had yet to understand. It was gorgeous! We spent the day just being in that canyon with the warm sun on our faces, the crisp air challenging the warmth, and yellow, red, brown, and purple swirls of leaves dancing around us as they made their way to the ground. It was magic! and I could have stayed forever.

It didn't last. At all. It seemed just days later a bitter coldness overtook all the dancing and stopped all color in a blanket of snow that persisted for what felt like a lifetime. My California-prepared car did not drive the same, nor did it heat well enough to keep me from a constant chill. Neither did my dorm room. Walking to class felt like a skating rink, and I was not a proficient skater. I did not have a warm coat. I didn't own a scraper for my car. The path to my job was not shoveled. Parking spots became scarce as the snow was shoved increasingly into them by the plows that awakened me very early each morning. My shoes were great for rain and all things wet but not for gripping. And completely unrelated, my new best friend and summer roommate had gone home to stay knowing this university was not for her leaving me alone in my double room. I was cold, unprepared, and vastly lonely.

This sounds nuts at first, but I vilified Fall right along with the Winter that was so miserable! We do that. We don't like one thing, and we stretch that like spandex and pull in people and things around the thing we don't like and make them all one package. So every fall, I started thinking about the horrors of winter. As leaves began their aging, instead of enjoying the incredible tapestry all around me, I directed my attitude to prepare for the nastiness of dirty snow on my path and the bruises I would incur as I suffered through the winter to come. Fall became the miserable step toward the more miserable winter. What was the outcome? a longer discomfort than I really needed to have.

I can't tell you how many times I've walked along a journey with someone who is undoing that swooping and making room to find joy again in those people or items that are not really the cause of suffering--past or present. That's not an easy thing to do, to admit to yourself that you have done this and then to go through the fears involved in vulnerably heading back toward people and things you have avoided or even punished all this time.

For some, the choice might be to never reclaim the good that is all around them. They might feel like they need to do this in order to be safe--to keep their deepest wounds from widening or being repeated in some other corner of their lives. I get that. No judgment here.

For others, there may be a need for mentoring or support to go about freeing themselves and others from this bondage. It seems a rare thing to talk about so how does one find help to figure out how to do it if one wants to do it? That's less tricky than it may seem. We ask. Who do we ask? I look around me...who is living joyously? I don't just ask for who is funny or active or looks wise. I want to know who knows deep sorrow and forgives. Who keeps great boundaries but reconnects? I want to know who is not just looking out for their own relationships but sees the impact of what they do on the relationships of others. I want THAT person...the one who CAN walk me through what I need to walk through to love better, forgive with good boundaries, open up to possibilities, and see and feel the joy that exists all around me even as there are truly painful parts much bigger than my pain of winter that I associate with Fall. Some find this mentor in their spiritual beliefs and practices. Others find it in a therapist who is more interested in healing than in blaming and making sure the guilty parties are punished. Others have friends or family who hold space for renewal and safely calling a truce to the fears and suffering.

My own journey has to be renewed every year. Here we are in Fall, and I am reminded yet again that winter is coming. I'm tempted to shift into my "Oh, No!" mode. I know the choice is there to grumble about what lies ahead any day now or to stop myself. I am choosing this year to stop. I am looking at the world around me and choosing to see that tapestry. It is gorgeous! The intensity of the colors dances in my view and reminds me life has so many corners of beauty. I begin to allow myself to prepare for Winter but not without allowing Fall to be Fall with all its riches. As I do, I make room for what might be magical about winter. Yes, it is going to be cold. There may be way more snow than I like. I might slide right to my well-padded rear end a time or two. I will be shoveling and snow plowing. AND, there will be utter silences in the night when I take out my pups as the snow twinkles like glittered frosting over all those colorful leaves in order to prepare for what is to come in the Spring. There will be much sledding laughter and skiing joy as friends take themselves to mountain tops. There will be Thanksgiving and Christmas and much cheer as we celebrate beliefs and experience gratifude for all the good that exists and our abilities to move through what is not so good. I'm likely to have more time with my loved ones around a table full of foods I have time to prepare. My home will be warm enough, and I might partner with someone else to ensure their home is, too. I will love fully and be my best self even if I am a little chilly and bruised. And just like that, Winter is imperfectly also totally good enough.