Long before a turning point is evident, tiny shifts lead to change: The last cut of the axe before a tree falls, the gathering force of an avalanche before it lets go, the final few cells piling up to a clot that blocks flow and becomes the stroke, the gradual loosening of a sleepy child’s fingers before the toy slides to the floor, the droop and dangle of a leaf before it drops, the new insight added to insight as a mind is changed.
At autumn equinox, a near balance is struck when day and night are almost the same length before the northern hemisphere tilts toward winter. Minutes of daylight have been slipping away since June, and September’s days, though still sunny, are cooler. I don’t welcome the coming darkness, but accept it. And autumn has its compensations: apples, fires, and glorious colors.
Autumn is my most favorite time of the year and has inspired much poetry due to the changes, colors, and ‘feel’ of the air and slant of light. Thank you!
I feel the same way: I don’t exactly welcome Fall, mostly because I know it’s the prelude to a long, dark and cold Winter. But I do appreciate the gifts it brings, and I also know that accepting it is the best way. Winter also has it’s good points, and I try to dwell on those as well.
Agreed, I can welcome the benefit of the restorative time of year, but I still miss the long days of summer when I feel so much more vital. Learning to accept and embrace the change of season! ❤
One person has been a responsible adult with a warm hearth throughout most of our lives: Queen Elizabeth II. Hearing of her death made the world feel partially unmoored.
For some of us she looked like our moms or grandmas wearing hats, purses, gloves, glasses and curled hair through the 50s, 60s, and 70s. Then customs changed and women dropped most of those signs of feminine civility while the Queen carried on. That was comfort in her colorful ensembles. She wasn’t a perfect human, but that didn’t matter when she appeared or spoke.
The British have been fortunate to have a person who committed herself to national service be part of their tradition without needing to be part of the fray. She carried knowledge of world leaders and traditions from studying and influencing behind the scenes. Everyone could look to her to be calm and strong during the worst of times. She adapted through war and peace, civil unrest, financial disruption, cultural changes. When she missed the right step, she accepted counsel and spoke to her fellow Brits about what she had learned. Around the world we all felt as if there was one adult in the room.
God rest Queen Elizabeth II. There are probably many beyond England’s shores who wish it was possible to pop over the ocean to set a thank you note at the castle gate.
Contemplating my 50th high school reunion got me thinking about friendships, acquaintanceships, and people I’m no longer in touch with.
I’m a person who stays connected. I make the calls, send the emails, arrange the visits, and keep up the connections. For years. But I wonder, When should I simply loosen my grip and let a friendship or acquaintanceship slide? Couldn’t I say to myself, We were friends for a certain moment in time and now that time has passed? It’s OK to let go gracefully without regrets.
I think I’ve done that with my high school friends.
I’m mildly curious about a few people. There was the cute redheaded guy I daydreamed about in math class. We ran in the same circles, but never dated and with time I became infatuated with other guys. He later became an architect and developer and now is one of the wealthiest members of the class.
I might enjoy talking with a brainy basketball star who was a good friend for a few years. She sat near me in several classes because our Catholic high school seated students alphabetically. However, even during college while I still lived in Toledo, we’d grown apart.
A dark-haired acquaintance who had a big voice and an even bigger laugh also comes to mind. We hung around together during school musicals—she was a performer and I was the costumer.
I’m curious about another dark-haired classmate in my advanced English class who became a nationally known journalist. We ran in different crowds (hers cooler than mine), but it would be fun to talk politics with her now, except she isn’t attending either.
I felt a pang to see a close girlhood friend listed among the deceased. We parted in 6th grade when she moved to a different neighborhood and got interested in boys. I was still shy and awkward then, not ready to date. We’d let go long ago, but I was sorry to read she had been in poor health for years and was no longer married.
A friend who went to a different high school said her 50th reunion was the last one she’ll attend, because future reunions will involve classmates needing walkers and talk of who’s in the early stages of Alzheimer disease.
Her insight bolstered my decision to skip my 50th reunion. I’d rather remember my classmates as we were—young, high-spirited, and barely aware of life’s harder realities.
6 responses to “Letting Go Gracefully, Without Regrets”
Sally Showalter
We had our 50th last year. Our graduating class was only 24 and 95% were together from 1st grade on. I moved from Illinois to AZ shortly after. I stay in touch through word of mouth, or by a cousin or two. Like you, I’d rather leave it alone for various reasons, and remember and write about those lively and fun years.
I think many people have made the same decision. It all really depends, I think, on whether you’ve kept in touch with your old high school friends or not. If you haven’t, then it can get rather awkward trying to make small talk with your old classmates. And I really appreciate your comment about wanting to remember them as they were when you were close!
You’ve summed it up well, Ellen. I stopped at my 20th, there was nothing there for me. Too much comparing! 😀
The one friend I cared about I’m still connected to via FB, but I’m not on there much, so it is touching base now and again. Best to move forward, we’re all different people now.
June’s magical fireflies blink “love me, love me.” Disappearing sparks. Late July’s crickets’ chorus a shimmery soundtrack for evenings on the porch. By the time I hear mosquitoes’ whining buzz, I’m in trouble and smack my neck. My hand comes back with blotched with blood. Maybe mine. Cicadas drone in August, their whining dirge signals…
Six of us sitting around a table in a nice restaurant. Maybe as much as twenty years difference between the youngest and oldest. We don’t ask about age. Fish tacos, salads, a burger ordered. A few look tired, most are having a good day. One open chair because someone had to work. Serious personal challenges…
Buzzing cicadas signal summer’s last gasp. Cooler days and school are ahead and soon summer will officially be over. The sun is still warm but a hint of melancholy drifts in with fall’s cool breezes. Yet another summer is gone and I haven’t done everything I meant to do. But the exuberant excess of the Minnesota State Fair next…
7 responses to “Meditation on Autumn Equinox”
Autumn is my most favorite time of the year and has inspired much poetry due to the changes, colors, and ‘feel’ of the air and slant of light. Thank you!
Thanks for reading!
I feel the same way: I don’t exactly welcome Fall, mostly because I know it’s the prelude to a long, dark and cold Winter. But I do appreciate the gifts it brings, and I also know that accepting it is the best way. Winter also has it’s good points, and I try to dwell on those as well.
Every season has its pleasures, but summer is my favorite!
Agreed, I can welcome the benefit of the restorative time of year, but I still miss the long days of summer when I feel so much more vital. Learning to accept and embrace the change of season! ❤
Besides, it’s coming either way 😆
True!