By Rebekah Baldwin
Fall can bring up conflicting feelings for many of us. It is often wrapped up with the "back-to-school" feeling- even for those of us who start the school year in the fully summer month of August. There is a sense of a new beginning, a fresh start. I see this evidently in my backyard garden. I botched my attempt over the summer. I didn't water enough, I didn't weed enough, and I ended up with a tangled mess of vines and leaves. I wrestled with feelings of guilt over this outcome and was brought some relief in watching the butterflies dance around the flowers that I let bloom on my tomato plants. But now, FALL! A new opportunity to try again! I cleared out everything from the summer and have prepared my bed for new plants to take root. This season can be a beautiful invitation to reground ourselves and to reestablish or start new habits after the summer months of travel and play and being out of our regular routines
But as the days start to get shorter and the leaves start to fall, many also begin to feel a sense of dread for the looming winter season. On the surface, most would probably say that they are apprehensive about the impending cold and dark days, or perhaps the lack of color in our environment. And of course, these are valid concerns, especially for folks who struggle with Seasonal Affective Disorder. Even for those without a diagnosis, most people can attest to having their mood impacted by their climate. But on a deeper level, I believe we are experiencing the fear of death. Indigenous cultures throughout time have recognized a death-rebirth-death-rebirth cycle, and we see this play out nowhere more obviously than in the cycle of the seasonal year. Perhaps this is why celebrating the turning of the seasons is customary in all cultures. We remind ourselves in the fall that yes, life around us is dying, but also that it is temporary; that come spring we will see new life again.
Which brings us back to hope. It is important to acknowledge any feelings of despair, dread, fear, worry and to give them space in our lives to be. Once we have done that, we can truly feel hope in a way that is not false or denying aspects of our experience, but genuine and real. So I invite you, as we approach the fall equinox - the day where light and darkness are equal - to reflect on what parts of your life might be ready to die to make room for new life. How can you honor the things that you are saying goodbye to in a way that allows you to fully release them, in order to welcome with open arms what wants to come in?