~ A Joy Warrior's Journey
Every last particle—even those
of the tree bark, and those
of the stones and the soil
in the field, even those
so buoyant that they float
in the air forming clouds
and those that make up
the air itself—every one
of them feels the touch
of this autumn morning’s
light and resonates to
the song of its gold.
Once upon a magical time
in a season we called ‘autumn,’
we would wake to a world
suddenly bathed in dancing colors.
The ten thousand leaves on
the ten thousand trees, one by one
would trade their green for crimson,
or flaming orange, for lemon or lime
or gold. And day by day the colors
would grow more intense, until
the whole world seemed to be singing
with them. And these magical leaves
could fly, too. Down they would spiral
in a twirling, giddy ballet, sailing
through the air like birds suddenly
set free from their wooden cages,
their brilliant bodies piling, one
atop the other, in a quilt of color
on the grasses and rocks and shores.
And we would gasp at the beauty
of it all, and give thanks that we
had eyes to see.
It’s impossible to speak here
in this pine woods, standing
at the feet of giants.
What could you say anyway?
How could mere words have any value?
“Thank you,” maybe. But you sense
that they already know what’s in your heart.
The gifts are free for your taking,
inexhaustibly and everywhere.
Every single moment holds them,
especially the one we call Now.
It’s a willingness to see them
that makes them happen.
So wake in the morning with a vow
to receive the ones your soul most needs:
goodness, beauty, forgiveness, truth.
And let it be your soul that decides,
so that your heart may swell in humble joy
as you realize the very gifts which you
most truly desired are here before you,
always, and free for the taking.
The light dances down, falling in pools
on the water, smoothing itself
across the welcoming faces of leaves.
From the earth, the scent of autumn rises,
wafting across the mirrored surface of the creek,
melding with the season’s first ocher hues.
And we, standing ankle deep in wild asters,
breathe in the light and fragrance
and breathe out contentment and joy.
A velvet carpet, yellow-green,
lures me from the edge
of what , in summer, was a lake.
As I near it, the texture takes on
a lushness, an unexpected depth.
Its colors grow more radiant somehow.
I’m standing now at the doorway
of an undiscovered world, and
as I carefully step across its invisible
threshold, I see beneath my feet
a poem, alive and wild,
its meaning apparent and singing
to my soul.
Here in western Pennsylvania I watched as September came to an end, ushering in what promises to be a colorful autumn. The goldenrod is glowing in the fields, and already the leaves are beginning to fall. They crunch beneath your feet as you walk down a sidewalk or, if you’re lucky, down a woodland path.
The beauty was a comfort to me as I waited for word about how family and friends in the path of Hurricane Ian fared. The first news from the region after Ian made landfall wasn’t good.
Life holds frightening, disappointing and painful times for us all. And sometimes it hurts terribly.
And the only refuge I have ever found for pain is kindness. As I’ve mentioned before, I learned that from Tara Brach. “Say to yourself,” she advises, “’this is suffering. Everybody suffers. May I be kind.’”
Be kind to others. You never know what burden someone is carrying in silence. And above all, be kind to yourself. When you’re in pain, recognize that what you are experiencing is universal; everyone suffers.
Part of that self-compassion means you set aside, at least for the moment, your longing to have things be different than they are. Accept that reality is what it is. Accept that you are hurting. Accept that you are angry, or deeply disappointed, or in pain, or overwhelmed. Accept that those feelings are part of being human and that it’s okay to feel them right now. Hold yourself as tenderly as you would hold a crying child.
Know, too, that all suffering is temporary. It exhausts itself, all of its own accord. It may return; it may come in waves. But always, it exhausts itself and finally gives way to a new perspective, and you go on.
Life isn’t static. It carries us into new circumstances at every moment. And at every moment, it offers us comfort and peace. As soon as we are ready to receive them, life’s gifts are there, waiting for us. And they wait with patience and love until we can be ready.
Sometimes it’s as simple as letting go of the story you’re telling yourself about how awful things are, and of waking up to the broader reality. Sometimes it takes a good meal, or a good night’s sleep, or some time with an understanding friend. Sometimes it takes a new idea, a willingness to try something new.
And sometimes it just takes the passage of time.
But whenever you’re ready, the side of life that’s good, and beautiful, and true will be waiting. Keep your faith in life alive, and be kind.
And when the goodness returns, breathe it in right down to your toes and let every cell in your body feel it and give thanks.
Life can hurt, and life can be exquisitely beautiful. Go with the flow, and say, “What a ride! What a ride!”
Wishing you sunshine, my friends.
Warmly,
Susan
Don’t sleep! October is here!
Her golden moments sing, you know, then,
like some exquisite aria, quickly fade away.
Some grandeur is too great to linger.
It sears the mind and memory and is gone
as if it were some glimpse of heaven,
a vision made of hope in a near-forgotten dream.
But this is no illusion. This is a gift of the Yes,
the pinnacle of its rolling seasons,
the fulfillment of their promises to you, given in love.
Stay awake. Let this beauty etch itself into your heart
to feed you for all of your days.
Here, dear September, take this bouquet
of your last flowers, which open now in salute,
small tokens, but pure and from the earth’s
very heart. Take them with our gratitude
for the gift of the days that you warmed,
for the magic you wove,
for the harvest you brought to fruition.
Wrap theses blossoms in your arms as you go
to remind you that in our memories
you will always be golden and loved.
Looking back on this September,
in the year of 2022, you may think
of hurricanes and threats of war,
of lives destroyed or irrevocably changed.
And you may be tempted
to let sorrow overwhelm you.
Life is always tenuous, and danger
often near. Our lessons in compassion
come with a great price. But
may you also remember, when
you think back on this time,
that its days held golden leaves
and sunflowers dancing to the song
of a gentle breeze, and that,
as she was leaving, September
left blue stars, shining from the grass,
love notes to remind you
that life goes on, and you
are precious and loved.