I remember when we were kids there would be these silly phrases we’d use. Off like a prom dress (HA! I was such a goody two shoes back then, so that phrase never applied to me…) Dwayne the bathtub, I’m dwowning! Make like a tree and leave. Or maybe it was leaf.
Anyway.
It’s October, and the leaves are falling. It’s October, and I’m not falling apart. It’s October, and I’ve turned over a new leaf. It’s October, and I’m rewriting the script.
amidst a rain of falling leaves
I don’t want to plummet to the abyss every October, because October holds so many monumental griefs for me. I didn’t really plan it this way, but Providence made it such that new hope and new joys are embedded in October, and these things have begun to eclipse the griefs of other Octobers.
Thank God and His holy heavens for that.
I used to love October. I used to revel in the crispness of the autumn air, and rejoice in the breathtaking colors that emerged on the leaves of the trees. Oh, how I absolutely loved October.
But I lost my brother in October. And I lost a very dear friend in October. And another. My marriage ended in October. And just the other day, one of my dearest lifelong friends moved to the other side of the world. I took her to the airport and said goodbye. Will I ever see her again, face to face? I don’t know. I sure hope so, but I don’t know. So you see, it’s so easy to get bogged down by the weight of October memories and grief. In fact, September was very difficult for me, because October was looming. I will admit, I had some moments of deep anxiety in September, but September has now gone.
amidst a glowing rain
These are all such weighty matters, these October milestones. But it was October of last year that I began (in earnest) my journey back to me. It is October, here and now, where I find myself in a good place. I have much to be grateful for. I have new friends, and a new and well embraced sense of community. I have a new sense of acceptance, in which I am at peace with the life that I lead. Whereas I acknowledge it’s not ideal, it is a beautiful life. And who am I to truly know what it is that I want and need? I have so much already. Even if there is no such thing as Mr. RightForMe, I have some beautiful experiences to cherish forever. If I were to die tomorrow, I’d go to my grave with a wealth of rich life experiences under my belt. I have a renewed sense of hope. I may not understand the circumstances under which it has been kindled, but it is very clear to me that hope prevails and that I have been called to simply trust.
love, forgive, hope
T R U S T
I am making peace with my self and the life that I lead.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
A word about the cheesy art…
I think I painted that glowing figure in the 90s. It’s very juvenile, but I was thinking of immersion. Immersion in love, in healing rain, in tears, in golden leaves, in grace. I suppose the same sorts of things I’m always thinking about. And even in the darkness, there is the light of healing rain.
Above a doorway are words to live by. It’s rather sloppy, and didn’t turn out as I’d envisioned. I still like it, anyway. One day I plan to remake this as a mosaic, rather than a word collage.
