letting go
Sep. 15th, 2005 04:19 pmThe season is turning here in northern New England. The last sweet, hardy blackberries have been picked, the raspberries are long gone, the cherry tomatos are coming faster than we can eat 'em, and some of the leaves of the scraggly undergrowth and the smaller, lower, young and hopeful trees have turned from their summer greens to vivid yellows, russets and umbers. Every so often, up on a hillside, you see a lone wild tree that's decided to suddenly burst into its Fall colors and turn, its lonely brilliance and avant-garde extravagence in stark contrast to its more staid and conservative neighbors, who are waiting patiently until the time is right, not wishing to be seen as being too showy or in unseemly haste. The brilliant reds and explosive oranges of the Sugar Maples, the glorious, gorgeous Fall foliage that people come from all over the world to see, won't begin to peak for a few weeks yet, but yes, you can feel the winter approaching. The owls cry their nighttime calls with increasing melancholy, and the last few love-lorn crickets begin to sound vaguely panicked.
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Take joy in your harvests, and in your failures. Both teach you something, and both have a natural point of completion, beyond which it is time to give up, let go, and move on. The good harvests can be brought in from the fields where they grew, then enjoyed, and divided between what will be consumed and what will be stored away to plant in the coming year. Failed harvests should be plowed under, enriching the soil for the future. Harvests and failures alike which are held onto overlong will simply rot and become foul and corrupt. And the rot can spread, to other areas of your life, unless you turn it under as compost, and let it go. That's what Fall whispers...get ready, build your reserves, and simplify, simplify, simplify. Assess what you really, truly need, carrying only that which is true, beautiful, useful or needed with you into the year to come. Let go of the rest, without regrets or longings. It is what it is. Release what isn't, and prepare for the slow days of dreaming, and the possibly lean times ahead. If you are prudent with your Self, with your harvests, you will not starve. Winter will come, and after that, Spring. The sun will return, the ground will thaw, and those precious seeds you set aside now will find fertile ground in which to bear rich new fruit. That's a promise.
( Read more... )
Take joy in your harvests, and in your failures. Both teach you something, and both have a natural point of completion, beyond which it is time to give up, let go, and move on. The good harvests can be brought in from the fields where they grew, then enjoyed, and divided between what will be consumed and what will be stored away to plant in the coming year. Failed harvests should be plowed under, enriching the soil for the future. Harvests and failures alike which are held onto overlong will simply rot and become foul and corrupt. And the rot can spread, to other areas of your life, unless you turn it under as compost, and let it go. That's what Fall whispers...get ready, build your reserves, and simplify, simplify, simplify. Assess what you really, truly need, carrying only that which is true, beautiful, useful or needed with you into the year to come. Let go of the rest, without regrets or longings. It is what it is. Release what isn't, and prepare for the slow days of dreaming, and the possibly lean times ahead. If you are prudent with your Self, with your harvests, you will not starve. Winter will come, and after that, Spring. The sun will return, the ground will thaw, and those precious seeds you set aside now will find fertile ground in which to bear rich new fruit. That's a promise.