They say the crisp air is a good reminder that we are alive.
And the rain, a good reminder to slow down.They say September is a better-suited "New Year".
And they, whoever they may be, are right.
Every ending looks the same, it seems.
The cringing, the blank stare, the bittersweet heart twists and the stubborn I-can't-let-this-go.
The tight grip, the standing still, the breathing in,
and the good-bye.
Every ending looked the same, until I met Autumn.
Autumn, this character I've come to fear so much, is becoming one of my best comforters.
She arrives, a little early at times, but never unexpected. And there she will be, ready to speak, ready to tell. In all of her beauty and all of her splendor, she tells her story of death and letting go, change and farewells. And with every fall, she whispers, "It will be okay."
It has only been a couple years since I've been listening to her story, or even realized Autumn had something to say. It has helped me to embrace her, and through her silent words, I have found comfort in change. Change is not easy. Endings and deaths are not easy. Being human is not easy.
But somehow, Autumn has taught me something quite extraordinary.
That something must die for new life to enter in.
That endings and beginnings work together with time.
That change and growth look just about the same,
and there is beauty in that.
There is beauty in all of this.
This year, I'm listening very closely. As frightening as the changes are looking to be, I am finding the mystery and this 'unknown' to be more beautiful than they have ever been.
In every change, there is growth,
and wonder, too.
And with every fall, she whispers, "It will be okay."
With every change, she whispers, "Just wait, and see."