A Reason for Seasons

I often joke about the fact that no sooner than we rid the house of all the Christmas glitter and tinsel, it’s time to get out the Easter decorations. And then when we finally wipe that last bit of fake plastic “grass” out of the nooks and crannies, it’s time for barbecues and fireflies. And then pumpkins and so on and so on…

Perhaps my need for seasonal change is the reminder that life is indeed in constant motion. I mark time with events – birthdays, holidays, graduations, anniversaries. For me the cyclical nature of seasons is reassuring. It’s comforting to know that with the unknown comes the known. I face change and uncertainty with each passing day but I also have the reassurance of yet another season. Another Christmas, another Easter, another Thanksgiving. I believe the traditions that we celebrate with each season help keep me grounded. I believe that holding on to what I know helps me handle the unknown.

seasonThink about a favorite memory. Was it summer or winter? Spring or fall? That moment will never return but that season will. I’ve been told that we are creatures of habit, but I am also a creature of adventure. I need the security of the familiar, but I long for new experiences. I think that having seasons, those repetitions, those traditions, gives me an advantage while I summit the mountains; while I swim the oceans; while I explore the unknown. My life changes but soon it will be spring again and I will return to a familiar place.

The seasons also remind me that I can’t just expect tomorrow to be better. Life will always be challenging. Disappointment and heartache may fill my days but I must learn to be thankful for what I have. I should find peace and happiness now. I should treasure the gifts of love that I have been afforded in this life. Because winter comes, too.

There is some comfort in the surety of it all. The seasons help me remember to slow down once in a while and savor the moment. I thank God for my blessings (and even my struggles) and then I step out to face the unknown.

Peace,

Denis

 

 

 

 

 

 

Autumnal

It seems as if EVERYONE loves Autumn. Oh the beautiful colors of the leaves! Oh the crisp, clean air! Oh the pumpkin pies and apple cider! Oh the magic of it all!

But I’m not a fan of Autumn or as I prefer to call it “the beginning of the end”. Goodbye warm sunny days. Goodbye green grass and hummingbirds. Goodbye swimming pools, patio dining, lush gardens and summer nights. Goodbye baseball, flip-flops, lazy days and Corona®  (it’s just not the same when it’s not Summer).

To me Autumn represents that slow, painful march into the dark days of Winter. Cold. Bleak. Sad. Winter. You can call me a curmudgeon but Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Lattes® and hay-rides aren’t really my thing. I’m a Summer-lover. And I’m sad that it’s over. And I’m even sadder that Winter is on its way. Oh you can be fooled for a while into thinking that these easy Fall days with sunshine and moderate temperatures will last but you’d be wrong. Just lurking around the corner is the dreaded freezing cold of Winter. The Ice. The Snow. The Darkness.

Be warned: Soon Autumn will only be a memory and you will be trudging through the dreary desolation of Winter.

Perhaps my displeasure of Autumn (and what it brings) is the reality that I am in the Autumn of my life. After all, the Springtime of my youth is a long-ago memory. I’m 60 now and squarely living in my Autumn and that’s assuming I will be around to see my Winter. Maybe that’s what scares me or makes me uncomfortable – getting older. Realizing that time waits for no one. And my Winter? Well that’s more than I care to think about right now. Is old age the impending doom? Are the twilight years an endless reminder that soon it will all be over? Surely not. My Dad will be 90 in the Spring and he’s still going strong.

Ah, the Spring! That’s it! Springtime – life renews again! Dad will be 90 next Spring! And so life goes on.

Yes I suppose Autumn is a beautiful season and I will try to embrace it. Even if it reminds me that the end is near. And even if it represents the dying and passing away of my Summer. But that needn’t be a bad thing. I should just bundle up and stay warm. Maybe I’ll even enjoy a pumpkin latte. Because when this life ends (and it will, no matter how hard I fight it) I know that there will be a rebirth in heaven.

And my Summer will come again…

Peace,

Denis