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A Mailbox Musing



Someday I will stay ahead of the weeds in the garden.


Someday I'll get a new mailbox and change the paint color on the post.


Someday I won't find myself, summer past, without one picnic.


Someday going down to the check the mail will be an important part of my daily routine instead of an annoying thing I think about only every few days.


I realized today that my tendency is to cling to spring even when my life has clearly found autumn.


Just barely.


It's that part of the year where autumn has started but the earth ignored the memo. The temperatures still push toward 90 and the hummingbirds haven't given up on the flowers.


Some of the life surrenders while others fight tooth and nail to hold on to their bloom.


I realized as I made way down the driveway to collect my junk mail that the newness of spring, and the heat of summer are behind me.


I haven't completely given summer up yet, though I confess I don't love it. I can feel it still stirring in my bones. But autumn seems to hold so much more of who I am. I'm drawn into it. Like the leaves I'm tempted to let go and surrender to all that comes next but I never do. I never let go.


I courted control for so long. A desperate attempt to right wrongs, feel safe and manage the chaos that I often felt in my brain. Apparently, I was neurospicy all along.


Spring claims the winter and then it gives in to summer. Summer surrenders to autumn. But autumn resists winter. Even as winter invades autumn stands firm. I like that.


I always focus on the leaves. Always have. it's the real show after all.


But this year, this year all I can think about is the trees.


They let go of all their glory to stand bare against the elements. They don't worry what the birds will think of them. They make peace with the truth that, for a time they will have no shelter to give. No retreat from the sun to offer.


In winter they tend to themselves for a bit. They rest, repair and restore so that when the time is right they can grow and once again, give of themselves to make homes for feather and fur, to shade and nurture us.


Letting go of things terrifies me. Let's be honest the changing leaves are beautiful until they let go and then, they become a mess. We leave them for a bit but eventually they need removing from gutters and roofs, lawns and sidewalks.


If I'm the tree and I let go, I have to trust that someone else will tend my leaves. I have to remember that rest is the most essential period in the growth cycle.


I can give shelter, I can bring beauty. I can throw shade - I mean give shade. I can give food, even the air that others need, but only if I rest.





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