The air is crisper now. The days are shorter.
It is mid-September and many are mourning the end of heat, of beach, of children running free in the streets.
But summer will come again. It always does. Everything comes again, in its own time.
Now’s the time for the comforting crunch under my well-worn boots. For jeans and sweaters and scarves lovingly knitted by knobby hands. For carving a pumpkin and baking a pie. For the scent of ginger, nutmeg, and cinnamon filling homes and fueling hearts. For morning walks under a cool blue sky and evening talks over steaming cups of tea, over-steeped and slightly bitter.
Fall is near. That mystical time of endings, of beginnings, of appreciation. I can hear it in the wind and I can feel it in my skin.
I fall into it, whole-heartedly and without hesitation.
I let it carry me, inspire me, remind me of the mystery inherent in all of life, the beauty intrinsically woven into every death, every last breath. I let it guide me to a place of gratitude and grace. I allow it to caress me and surprise me and move me to tears.
I say: Goodbye. Hello. Thank you. Don’t go. I love you. I miss you. I’m sorry. I forgive you. I am safe. I am strong. I am moving on.
I discard those thoughts and habits that have kept me stagnant and shriveled. Now is the time for change. For lessons to be learned, inside and outside of the classroom.
There is a change stirring within me that is both wondrous and frightening. The course of my life is being entirely altered. Thoughts that have been percolating for some time are being unleashed - fully brewed and delicious on the tip of my tongue.
I am taking that next, crucial step. It is honest. It is time.
I fall into this moment, losing my grip on the fears of yesterday and embracing the rush, the release, the unravelling, the discovery.
I wait for the reds and the oranges, rich purples and deep browns to once again transform my world into a watercolour painting of astonishing beauty.
I see myself, in the painting. I radiate.
I fall. Deeper and deeper into myself, acknowledging the less-than-perfect parts and loving them anyways. Dusk knocks at my door, always a few minutes earlier than the day before, and I welcome it with a smile, a sigh of relief. The blast of cool air is a tonic, energizing and propelling me forward.
I anticipate the brilliant landscape and I am filled with hope.
This week's affirmation: I surrender to the free fall.