The Paradox of Change in This Changing of Seasons

“In my own experience of autumn’s losses, I am rarely aware that seeds are being planted.”  Parker Palmer in his book “Let Your Life Speak.”

For the past few years, the transition of seasons has taken on a deeper meaning for me.  During the equinoxes and solstices, I have taken time for a “pause” to reflect on the recent and distant past, ground myself in the present, and look forward to the near and perhaps “farther” future. 

As the winter solstice approaches and we bid autumn farewell, this year I’ve found myself reflecting on both the “losses” as well as some unexpected “gifts” of the last 3 months.  One of the questions I have been pondering that is very relevant for this time of year is:  “What in my life needs to fall away so new life can emerge?”         

 As I pondered, I was reminded of a chapter from the book “Let Your Life Speak” by Parker Palmer, a book that I re-read yearly and have gifted to others more than any other.  In the chapter titled “There is a Season,” Palmer writes about the paradox of autumn as being “… a season of great beauty, but also a season of decline ….”  He goes on to say, “In a paradox, opposites do not negate each other – they cohere in a mysterious unity at the heart of reality.  Deeper still, they need each other for health, as my body needs to breathe in as well as breathe out.” 

In such paradox, there exists a dynamic of ‘both/and” rather than “either/or” thinking.  In my own life I have frequently not honored this dynamic, tending to favor one side of the “paradox” over the other.  I seem to be more drawn to “gathering,” “breathing in,” and saying “yes” rather than “letting go, “ “breathing out,” and saying “no,” whether it pertains to more “to dos” at work or just trying to squeeze more in my life without cutting back or stopping anything.  And when we do that enough, what was once a ‘blessing” can soon become “busy” and at some point, a “burden” which if clung to long enough can lead to “burnout.” 

So in this transition of seasons, I’m finding myself focusing more on the “falling away” of fall leading into the dormancy and deep rest of winter, but you may be thinking about what seeds need to be planted.  Regardless of your focus, the symbolism of the transition of seasons provides an incredible opportunity for your own reflection, renewal, and ongoing growth.  Be sure to seize it!   And if you, like me, have some angst about “letting go,” Palmer provides some words of reassurance: “In retrospect … losses that felt irredeemable forced me to discern meanings I needed to know.  On the surface, it seemed that life was lessening, but silently and lavishly the seeds of new hope were always being born.”