Updated: 6 days ago
A couple days ago I found an anonymous quote, paraphrased, "Autumn lets us see how beautiful it is to let things go." Paraphrased because I typed the quote into the subject bar for this blog entry earlier today, then succumbed to writer's block, deleted the text, and crumpled up the paper on which I'd written the quote and threw it away.
I let it go. Then I journeyed for a friend who has been facing some conflict and is looking for some insight. And suddenly I saw a feather dancing in the wind- a feather let go by some bird, perhaps letting go of the summer nest and heading out on migration.
The journey was fruitful, and I returned refreshed and headed out to see a friend. While I was gone, I received a text message from a friend whose senior dog I had sat over the holiday weekend. Somehow, I had neglected to close their freezer drawer fully, and everything in the freezer had melted.
Suddenly, a wave of shame rushed over me; I was mortified at this mistake- a simple one, as my roommate noted later on, and certainly not made in malice. He reminded me that I don't always have to do everything perfectly. We are human. We make mistakes. But I spent the better part of the evening fretting over my error.
Autumn let's us see how beautiful it is to let things go. I decided to explore this sense of shame that I have felt so often throughout my entire life, in fact, the first memory of which comes from when I was a little girl, maybe 5 years old.
I love trains. For a brief period when I was just a toddler, we lived on Pine Street, and the train tracks were right in front of the house. I would run to the window to watch the train go by. Then we moved back up on the hill. One afternoon my father had taken me to the train depot in South Paris to watch the train come in. We returned to the house where two of my aunts were visiting with my mother. If I recall correctly, they were helping her with my new baby brother Tom.
The aunts asked where I had been. "Daddy took me to the station wagon!" I exclaimed. The adults laughed. They new I had been to the train station, not the station wagon. That is my first memory of feeling a flush of shame at spitting out the wrong words. Of course, my parents and aunts thought my error was cute. But I was mortified.
Autumn lets us see how beautiful it can be to let things go. I already feel lighter, as last night I made a conscious decision to explore in both OR and NOR, this sense of shame I carry around. But I won't explore for too long. When Autumn arrives, I intend to be ready to let that sense of shame go.
What will you let go this season? Many blessings in your journey.