The smell of bonfires and chai tea lattes. The feeling of windows rolled down and the perfect song playing, with the leaves changing and falling to the ground. The beautiful death that comes to cultivate the space needed to inspire a new beginning in just a few short months. Dying, resting, ceasing for a season so that life and vibrant colors and warmth can sweep in once again.
It’s funny how I can love this season so much in every aspect except the internal. I don’t know about you, but I never like the internal “fall season.” The death of ego, the letting go of expectations, the ceasing of all the things I’ve relentlessly overthought in my head. It’s never as beautiful internally as it is externally. But I’m trying to shift my perspective. I’m trying to see the things falling apart in my life as beautiful leaves making room for new life, new perspectives, and new thoughts. To experience the beauty of letting go when all I want to do is hold on.
The rhythms of grace I was accustomed to contained an air of certainty. A kind of absolute assurance that everything I had known was true. An unwillingness to let anything fall apart. A false hope that the foundation I had was the only foundation possible for stability, security, and comfort.
I’ve been trying to pinpoint it for a while – the day Autumn began. The moment when my foundation was shaken and I started to question every little thing about my life.
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