Such a year.
A graduation, wedding, explosion of activity and mission at work, a fella…
This season has been a good one.
It has also had its skinned knees and gulps for air.
In the warm November Sunday afternoon, I bustled about the deck choosing which plants to overwinter, which to hand off, and which to compost for next year’s growing season. It felt good to get my hands and fingernails caked with dirt. Fresh rosemary and lavender scents fill the Reading Loft.
A geranium has taken residence in a mixing pot I hardly use. Tracy’s “Wandering Jew” and begonia catch light on the family table. A window box of rosemary, petunias, begonias, a jade plant start, more geraniums, and something I cannot identify has taken over the cubby top by the north-facing window. Herbs hang in my bedroom dormer. The apartment has taken on new life as the coming cold silences the growing season outside.
Change has come.
Despite the t-shirt and shorts, a new season is here.
I sense that something new and not yet known is in the air.
Last week, I finally admitted I’d like to learn the basics of parkour or freerunning. It’s going to take dropping 25 lbs or so to fight gravity and lift into handstands and spring about. My noodley arms also require attention, work, and resistance. As does my derring do. Epic faceplanting is real possibility.
Fall has me considering a new way to look at work and time invested.
I’ve been offered a chance to learn from and among leaders; a return to developing my own leadership muscles.
Perhaps the sensed change is knowing I will begin walking to work again, waiting on snow, looking forward to holiday time with the kids, and the inevitable snow angels on the Konza.
Do you feel it?
As a presidential campaign larks up
An epic Royal’s World Series win soaks in
Our kids and friends reminding us that time is still a river
And people are freaking out over Starbuck’s holiday cups…
a new season rests upon us.
How will we make this year’s end different than before?
What are we dreaming about?
How can we serve better
love more richly
be freer in thought, word, and action?
Today reminded me: each season offers its first fruits. We chose whether to harvest or let them rot untouched.
We must be brave
Summon our derring-do
Ask for help and
Invite accountability – encouragement – to gather the fresh opportunities of each season.
We will only watch the seasons and people around us change unless we step into the process.
Sometimes change means slowing down.
Other change requires rising up and loping off into the unknown.
To live fully – to get off of the bleachers and into the adventure – we must be brave. The unknown awaits.
Who knows? What waits for us across the plains and out of the doldrums just might be fabulous.