Seasons

The seasons and their changes have long been a subject for poets and songwriters endowing each with properties that parallel our lives. We have the Winters of our discontent, the lazy Summers of our youth, the gaiety of Spring, the quickening of Fall and a flock of other metaphors. A recent and unusual cold spell at this time of year combined with the last gasp of shortened days put me in a somber mood. It did not help that the days themselves were gray not blue, and gusty winds made for an unpleasant spell. After a month or so of this kind of weather and early darkness my soul and my body yearn for sun and clear skies and I start thinking about a retreat to someplace conducive to easier days.

Spring is my favorite, although a nice Fall day when Summer has retreated and the dog days linger is nearly as enjoyable. Both hold the promise of change and a welcome foreshadowing of what is to come. I am sharper in the Fall, less focused and more dreamy in the Spring and I lean into those moods in the occupation of my days. When I lived in rural New Hampshire the seasons were more definitive. And I learned a way of living I have long forgotten in the busyness of life. Fall was a time of gathering, harvesting, and putting to bed, readying for a new year to come. Spring of course was a time of planting, preparation and anticipation. Winter with its near constant snowfall and inclement weather was ideal for catching up on my reading, sharpening tools and doing indoor repairs.

You'll observe that I left out Summer. It was a less mindful time demarcated by holidays and play time--a time of tending and minding. If these descriptions seem al together too lyrical they are not meant to be. There was a rhythm to the days in harmony with the seasons that our forebears knew and I settled into it peacefully letting go of my urban urgencies. It is hard to live this way in a city--in a 9-5 world--if such still exists--and the environment fights against the seasons more than it leans into them.

If you are looking for a lesson in this rambling recollection it is this: the weather, darkness and light and all that comes with the changes in season will happen whether we like it or not, Rather than longing for what isn't we would be well served to enjoy what is and use the days to our best advantage. The seasons offer a scaffold on which we can build, assembling our days and activities to take advantage of what each day presents. It is a kind of mindful living--an observance that yields contemplation and peace. Living in the moment, living in harmony with what the day delivers leaches anxiety from our bones and leaves us ready to absorb healing acceptance.