Falling

Jai Dog.... wandering with me on an early morning venture through the farm.

Jai Dog.... wandering with me on an early morning venture through the farm.


This summer season has brought my family and community close to the edge of death and loss, more times than I'd like to manage in a three month window.  A lover, a mother, a child, furry friends -- all akin to the leaves, making their way home.

It's got me pondering.  Realizing in my bones that none of us will get out of here alive.

With upwards of 8 million people living today, more than 100 million people have lived, and died.  This is just how life is.  Birth, Life, Death.  For all of us.  And within this kaleidoscope of each individual life, there are thousands of birthings, livings, and dyings happening:  Kids, parents, jobs, pets, seasons, addresses, relationships, stages, phases, habits, hats, & ways of being...   

Carrots and potatoes for dinner -- as it is and so very grateful for it (and look at that bounty of garden behind me! Wowza!)

Carrots and potatoes for dinner -- as it is and so very grateful for it (and look at that bounty of garden behind me! Wowza!)

It is Fall.

I heart this time of year, and particularly love the sound of the leaves as they surf the sky--making their way to the earth.  

I find myself stopping, repeatedly, as I wander through the farm... wondering if there is a bird in the berry patch, or a chipmunk rustling through the woodpile only to find it is the leaves, chirping crisply as they find their way to a final resting place.

When I am in the yoga studio in the morning, I look out and see the leaves falling and have come to take this as an offering -- each leaf is like a tiny lifeboat, floating to the ground, and I quickly pull from my list of "that which I no longer need" and offer it to the leaf to carry away my unnecessaries, one by one.  

 

Larry and his 87 year old Mom, Luella, chatting in her room at Rehab, nearly 9 weeks after a stroke.

Larry and his 87 year old Mom, Luella, chatting in her room at Rehab, nearly 9 weeks after a stroke.

This is just how life is.  
This is how God is:   Giving, maintaining, and taking away -- without any warning.  
And our work, is to love every breath.  Every minute. Every sunrise, blink, touch, experience, and tear.  And to offer up gladful acceptance for what is, as it is, and to do our holy best to live in communion with all that is -- with no agenda for anyone or any thing to be any different than they are (or are not) in this very moment.  

Enjoy this day, my friends.  This season of time, and life.  And may we offer glad acceptance to the leaves that fall in our lives, and the grace with which the trees surrender them.  

Take it all in.  Let is all go.

Namaste.

 

Britt B Steele

Britt B Steele, USA