I'm really in the mood for fall this year, not just for the beautiful, bright-colored leaves and the cooler days and nights and because fall is my favorite season, but more for the Season of Introspection that autumn affords.
I suppose, really, that the dead of winter is truly the season for introspection...I mean, what else does one have to do in the midst of arctic cold, snow and ice-covered trees except wrap up in a blanket and peer into one's soul?
I hate the dead of winter, though...I find it offers a little too much time for reflection and self-searching...I would even go so far as to say that I find the dead of winter damn depressing...in fact, I would venture to say you don't know the meaning of depressing until you experience January (and even possibly February) in Iowa...
Hence, October, I have found, is my best month for sifting through the shards of my life and piecing them into some sort of healthy, rational perspective. Not always an easy thing to do, but necessary for continuing personal growth.
Looking myself square in the deepest regions of my soul usually involves kicking myself in the arse for this, that or the other thing... and I can usually count on some tears and gnashing of teeth. But grieving is part of letting go and moving on, of trying harder and doing better the next time, no matter what the issue.
There is, however, an oh-so-fine line between healthy grieving and wallowing in self-recrimination; between cool, cleansing tears of release and the hot, stinging tears of regret.
But it's good to experience both types of crying in one's lifetime so that one knows the difference and, hopefully, learns to avoid situations that could cause one to drown in remorse...
The bad news? Sometimes, that kind of learning takes time. The good news? With age comes wisdom...or so they say.
Anyway...today, Labor Day 2007, I celebrate the end of the summer and the beginning of the Season of Introspection by resting up in preparation for whatever Truth and Realization I may encounter in the coming, self-searching months.
Cups of coffee drenched in French vanilla creamer...a couple of hot, buttered blueberry muffins...a morning spent moodling...lounging on my porch swing while gazing at the 123-old maple tree in my front yard, the tips of but a couple of her green leaves just starting to turn red/orange...
To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn,turn)
Kleenex...I need a Kleenex...