~ A Joy Warrior's Journey
The colors are late this year.
We say that every year about this time.
I think it’s our eagerness to see them.
But this year it’s true. They’re late.
Still, the goldenrod is everywhere—
in the fields, along the roads,
anywhere, really, that it can find a spot.
And look how perfect the corn!
September knows what she’s doing.
Imagine being so bright with joy that you shone like the sun.
Imagine standing with your face to the sky, hiding nothing,
offering everything that you had to give, holding nothing back,
for no other reason than your overflowing thanks
for the incredible wonder of being.
At the very end of summer’s long, slow
inhalation of the nourishing light of the sun,
there comes a pause, a moment when
time itself seems to stand still. Nothing moves.
Not a leaf, not the water, not a sound.
You hold your breath, maybe not even noticing;
it’s such a natural thing. A rest note in the song,
the last word in a chapter. Inside it, everything
is awake, rooted, waiting. Then the air whispers
and the beginning of what-comes-next stirs,
and the reeds sway, and from high in a tree
a bird calls, and once again you’re breathing.
The host of the program I was listening to last Tuesday asked his listeners to send in their stories about a transcendental experience in their lives, one of those defining moments that you know you’ll always remember.
He read a couple of them, and you could feel the emotion in each one, the quiet power and beauty. Then he came to one that topped them all.
It was from a woman who identified herself as Maria. When her daughter was ten months old, Maria and her husband took her to the zoo. The baby fell asleep after a while and Maria was carrying her in her arms when they decided to visit the gorilla house. Someone had told them that a couple of the gorillas in there had babies.
They were barely in the door when Maria found herself across the glass from a seated mother gorilla, cradling her own baby in her massive, hairy arms the same way Maria was holding her daughter,
The two mothers stared at each other, each of them sharply aware of the bond that linked them. Maria bent down and held her sleeping daughter nearer to the glass so the mother gorilla could see her more fully. To Maria’s surprise, the big gorilla carried her sleeping baby to the glass for Maria to see. For about ten minutes, with only mere inches and a pane of glass separating them, the mothers showed off their babies, comparing their little hands and ears and faces and feet.
Those ten minutes with the gorilla mom were a defining moment in Maria’s life. They made it clear that the right decision for her was to turn down a job she had been offered. It was well-paying and would have been a definite step up on the career ladder. But it would have required her to put in a substantial amount of time. She took a lower paying one instead so she could spend more time with her baby. The moments she shared with the gorilla showed her that children come first. “That’s what nature directs,” she said.
Maria went on to have another daughter two years later, and now she’s expecting twin boys. And she credits her family life to what she learned the day she met the mama gorilla and her baby. May they all live happily ever after.
Wishing you a week in harmony with nature.
Warmly,
Susan
Another thing I’ve noticed about September
is how she loves to dance.
The first notes sound
and the curtain lifts to reveal
a palette of gold and green.
Dusty rose Joe Pye weed
and waves of goldenrod
rise against the backdrop
of late summer’s multi-hued trees,
all of them waltzing in the warm, light breeze.
Now a crimson vine rises, trumpeting
September’s red theme in notes that will sound
in countless variations as the days unfold,
each of them flaming with poignant drama
as the year burns toward its close.
The green still prevails
and always shall, standing
as it does for life. Even so,
the seasons roll, each
having its purpose and time.
Thus autumn begins its ascent,
singing of harvest
in tones of rust and gold.
And on its heels the time of rest
will follow. But even then,
green stands, though there be
mountains of snow.
You would think that by the time
you got to your 77th autumn,
the season would cease to amaze.
But here we are, almost at its door
and already I find myself gazing
with astonishment, my whole mind
shouting, “Look! Look! Oh, Wow!”
Sometimes you need to take a different path,
to shake off the ordinary and routine.
You never know what surprises and delights
lurk just beyond the horizon. The world,
after all, is filled with wondrous things.
Why, one day you could take a turn
and, right around the bend, discover
a field full of sunflowers. You never know.
The first leaves color and fall.
The light comes later and fades
all too soon. But in the heap
of wild foliage at the roadside
pale purple asters begin
their autumn dance. And oh,
the luscious fragrance
in the air!