Not everyone needs them, but I do. The change of the seasons, the turn of one cycle of nature to another.
It's a spiritual revolving for me. My faith has not been a direct, upward climb, but it has been and is a daily cleanse and a foundation of hope and a loud call to love more. With the arrival of autumn, the addition of color, the fall of the leaves, the crisp scent in the air, I am reminded of a deeper change within each of us.
The act of leaves moving from green to yellow or red to fallen forms of themselves, leaving behind a blank tree that must now weather the winter on its own, encourages me to strip away all that is unnecessary and unhelpful. And to remind myself of what I truly need to live the life I hope to.
From Peter Schineller, SJ:
It means a letting go, as the trees let go of their leaves. What are you called to let go of this season? Possessions? Grudges? Status? Can you shed them gently? When I was growing up there was a large tree on the corner of one of the streets in our neighborhood, which always turned red before the others--from the top down. There were other trees whose fallen leaves blanketed the grass with reds, oranges, and yellows. As with a tree that sheds its leaves, perhaps your letting go might make things more beautiful for the world.
How can the season invite you closer to God?
I have plenty that I want to shed this season - some of which I'll be sharing here on Pars Caeli. I'm taking a call from nature to dig into my roots and let go of what has served its time, and to grow stronger for all that is to come.
What will you let fall away? Can you shed it gently?