Harvest
Ah, youth.
As I child I sort of hated September, the dreaded early-mornings back-to-school month. I kind of loathed the fall, harbinger of the long season of dark and cold to come. Not even the fun of Halloween could lift the doldrums for long; that faded with the last trick-or-treated, fun-sized Milky Way bar.
In anticipation of my near-future loss of freedom and my obligation to study and socialize, work and perform, a low-level depression would begin setting in right after July 4th. And last the rest of the summer, tinging it with kind of melancholy better suited for someone considerably older with far greater demands on their psyche.
Youth is wasted on the young.
Not sure when the tides turned, when I began to appreciate the glorious gift of autumn. When I began to welcome the clearer skies, the cooler temperatures, the shaking off of heady, heavy midsummer heat and humidity. When it became my favorite of the seasons.
Might have something to do with the end of my formal lower and higher education. When fall no longer meant, “end of summer break/back to school/back to work” but rather, “just another day at the office.” When one could experience it more objectively, without the patina of a stressed-out, returning student who has no idea that she still has at least a few years before she is confronted with the truly heavy demands of adulthood.
Autumn. The endless summer finally fades. Despite knowing full well that the end is coming, it still sneaks up on you, and surprises you as autumn slowly eases it out …
And then, suddenly, you find yourself in the autumn of your life, with winter not far from view -
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
As much as I love the ease of slipping on one of my naked slip dresses when the temperatures rise to 85, 90, 95 and above, there’s something to be said for the rediscovering the cozy comfort of a great pair of jeans and a sweater. (Which has the added benefit of easily camouflaging an extra pound or two. Of covering summer's bare, chiseled, buffed, sun-kissed, skin, easing the need for relentless attention to looking perfect naked. Hallelujah.) Of once again having to consider dressing appropriately for the weather, at least here in the northeast. Wondering if/when a hurricane will hit. Wondering if you’ll need to bring a jacket and maybe a scarf, just in case.
There’s something about autumn. Just what is it? Besides the glorious weather and the still-long days? The trees and plants offering up their plumage, a kaleidoscope of colors changing daily over more than a few weeks, peaking in an eruption of greens, yellows, reds, oranges, and browns, ending naked and exhausted in a pile on the ground? Why does my skin clear? My mood improve? Now that I don’t have to go back to school and show up for class, research and write papers, take tests? But instead have to deal with the very real, very constant, very grown-up financial, professional, social, as well as performative and psychological life-and-death demands of adult life?
In autumn, Earth yields us her bounty. She offers up the fruits (and vegetables!) of our lengthy labors. We get to collect, and soon savor, all that we’ve planted and sown.
We harvest. We get busy picking the best, storing it, so that we may relax and enjoy the abundance of our efforts now and later. The crazy hazy days of summer, of swimming with sharks as well as angelfish, of journeying tirelessly thither (God, I love that word) and yon, of doing and trying and proving and coming and going and playing and struggling and comparing and competing and loving and winning and losing and on and on and on (deep breath), evolve into a calmer period of Knowing. Reflecting. Accepting. Appreciating.
Youth get all the glory. When we’re younger, we’re so busy judging ourselves and others, comparing spouses and zip codes and friends’ invitations and hair and jobs and kids’ schools and successes and vacation plans. We're so busy measuring our life against the lives of others, against our own concept of what our life coulda shoulda woulda look like -
Autumn can be the best of times. If we’re lucky. And allow the season to change. Without needing to hold too tightly on to the things that are fading, things we imbued with so much meaning and value. The peak-of-life-ness. The busy-ness. The crazy-ness. The fabulous-ness. The defining associations and relationships. The youthful beauty. If we’re able to release some of the things we were taught that matter and make us matter and our life matter. We can grow into a fuller, truer, more grounded, grander, serene version of ourself.
Most of us rage, rage against the dying of our youth. We try every pill, injection, exercise, cream, “procedure,” to hold back the years, smooth out any evidence of the passing of time.
Granted, in adjusted terms, autumn begins around the day after Labor Day for me. (Chonologically, however, it's closer to Indigenous Peoples Day, nee Columbus Day.) But still. As I continue this journey drifting almost imperceptively from the spontaneous chaos of youth and the frantic doing of adulthood towards whatever comes next, I am living the challenge of having to let go of so many of the things that defined me, defined “Theresa”, “Tess”, “TQ”. Titles. Descriptions. People. Relationships. Professions. My former physical self.
On the other hand, I am beginning to be able to see more and more the fullness of what’s coming. The reaping of what I’ve sown and continue to sow. And enjoy the abundant harvest of my autumn. Which, frankly, isn’t always easy. Because I not only need to allow life to evolve as it inevitably will, whether I like it or not. I also need to release those things I was supposed to do and have and create but for whatever reason didn’t. Big things, major things, such as getting married and having kids and being famous and curing cancer and winning awards and making millions, that at this stage probably won’t happen. In the eyes of some, perhaps many, mine could be considered a failed life.
There was a time I might have agreed with them. But as I savor autumn I realize how full my life has been and continues to be. I’m beginning to let go of my coulda shoulda wouldas and embrace my harvest. Quieter, less mainstream. It includes leaving things better, cleaner, clearer, calmer, than I found them. It includes helping in small ways, every day. It includes always trying to take a moment to take the high road even when, especially when, it would be so much easier to defer to more easily-accessed default modes of anger, pointing fingers, blaming, shaming.
Autumn
Back to school. September reminds us that our efforts are worth the effort, that we will soon get to enjoy the harvest.
Halloween. All Souls Day, aka, the Day of the Dead. October reminds us of our mortality.
Thanksgiving. November reminds us that in this life there is much to appreciate and enjoy, even if things don't turn out as anticipated. It reminds us of our bounty, reminds us to be thankful for the gifts we do receive, and the gifts we’ve been granted to give back in exchange. It reminds us that even when things seem to absolutely suck, there’s so much to savor, experience, to offer up, to be grateful for. To love.
If only we embrace rather than resist the change of summer into fall.
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