0.2 | Autumn
Note: many of the words in this post were written in November of 2020, but were massaged into this post in May of 2021.
Autumn is a season of transition.
The transitory colors of leaves strewn about the glistening streets.
Reds, oranges, yellows.
An elaborate season. My favorite.
It’s a season of transformation, not towards vitality, but towards a long silence.
The word that reverberates in my mind is metamorphosis. It’s a loaded word. With memories of early childhood, learning about caterpillars unwitting metamorphosing into butterflies.
Wrapping itself up in a vessel of its own dissolvement.
No expectations – an act of instinct. To let go. To surrender. To transform.
To the childlike mind it is hilarious to imagine the contrast. A slow, missable creature becoming an erratic and bold butterfly. Something to chase.
On this cool autumn day, I hear the migrating birds, the falling leaves – the overcast skies and the petrichor perfuming the air.
I too, must let go.
Surrender what I am, to allow for the potential of what I can be.
Surrender is the precursor to renew, to life, to vitality.
The end of before. The beginning of the rest.