Taking Time to Stop During Fall

There's something about the fall season, something a little hard to pinpoint exactly, that makes it my favorite season. 

There is something in the coolness of the air that initially always seems to sweep me back in time at least 25 years.  I will never completely understand it, but every year the onset of the fall season has the effect of transporting me through time.

Thus, for me and perhaps for many others, the season is a time to take a momentary pause: it's a good time to recollect.  The Thanksgiving holiday certainly gives us an opportunity to take a break before winter sets in, along with the busy commercial Christmas season, which for many has begun already.

Often I've heard that Advent is a good time to slow down.  Though honestly I've always run into a little trouble slowing down during December.  However, this year I've got it in my mind to do something besides letting myself get caught up in the rush--the remainder of fall and the beginning of Advent give the perfect opportunity to recollect on what is most important in life, and to make plans for what is ahead.

It's too fast, it seems, that life gets away from us.  Too fast that our families, our children, and our friends go on their way.  Sure, it's inevitable that time rushes on.  However, we can always slow down, even perhaps we may stop for awhile on the journey. 

When we want to hear what God has to say to us we have to be prepared to take time and listen.  Sometimes we have have to stop completely.  I believe that we should never underestimate the importance of pausing to see where we are in life.  It makes us appreciate where we have been, and it helps to better determine where it is that we want to go.

I'm including one of my photos.  I shot it Friday after Thanksgiving--it seems to encapsulate what I want to say.  When we take the time to recollect what is most important it's hard not to let the people in our lives figure prominently.  As a believer in answered prayer I think of the people in my life as having been the biggest source of God's love, and positive change, that I have ever known.

I'll be keeping these things in mind as I go back to work tomorrow morning, and as I prepare for Advent, and in some respects as I prepare for the rest of my life.  Nothing moves me spiritually like the season of Advent--even more than Lent, Advent has always had a profound effect on me.  During this time of year we are perfectly situated to look back on what was, to pause, and then to move ahead with life. 

Comments

[JustMe]

Here in New England, seasons are extreme. Extremely long, extremely short, extremely painful, extremely gorgeous. However, as are the mysteries of the Rosary, so are seasons connected -- we can't have one without the other, I suppose. If I were a Martian, and some days I am, some folks' glory-tales of Autumn would thrill my alien heart. But I know too well that Autumn is but a beautiful funeral procession. Inevitably, it leads to a barrenness of earth, while bulking us up in early dark lethargy--a Northeast of baby narwhals, we; it's also when we shut the windows, crank up the oil heat (ugh), and sicken, sometimes unto the hem of death, and for many others (so far), beyond.

Let the Inuit have winter, says this anklebone-skating Martian. But something you said about slowing and thinking and change made me consider similarities between the seasons, and the Mysteries: Spring/Joyful; Autumn/Luminous; Winter/Sorrowful; Summer/Glorious.

Oh, surely there are peepers and lightning bugs all through Heaven, and not one leaf floating on the waters. But I agree about Church seasons. Advent--what a thrill (even for aliens). O come, O come Emmanuel.. Amen

[Gabrielle]

I just can't get enough of autumn; it's over all-too-quickly. But you know, JustMe, and don't be too shocked, I even love the outline of naked trees against a cold, grey sky. Yes, I'll probably be half-dead with the flu in a few weeks, but meanwhile, stark beauty has me in its grip.

[JustMe]

Well, I'm shocked, I tell you, shocked. There would have to be at least one clump of light purple lilacs on that naked tree before I could see stark beauty in it. (Or if that tree were near green hills in Cork, I could likely live through it without seizing up inside, like a river about to be frozen.) I had a visual thought of Purgatory (?) once. It was all bare trees and ugly, exhausting rocks and heavy gray skies..like stands of trees that were stripped and bowed over in an atomic blast. At any rate, I'm pretty sure there was no Autumn in Eden, but rather, all was always lush.. I used to love Autumn, and not only as a child; snuggling weather is nothing to sneeze at (so to speak), but it heralds too long, too breaking, too skid-ish a winter. If only that season was as short as our summer. Barrenness does make it possible to see beavers down on the river better; I'll cling to that happy thought, just for you and DDW.