"Leaves are falling down like embers
in colors red and gold
they set us on fire..."
~Rowland Salley
Autumn leaves arouse my senses. The vibrant, bold colors
catch my eyes, and the rustling, shuffling of leaves swooshing and crackling as I
walk over them perks my ears. I take notice – a message is here for me – what
does it mean?
I consider the life of a tree and contemplate the metaphor
of falling leaves:
-Is there anything I need to let go of?
-Why should I shed?
-What do I need to release?
I know I’m on the right track, because right now I feel
overwhelmed – maybe doing too much, having too much, wanting too much, hanging
on to out-dated ideas, concepts, desires, and ways of being.
Sometimes I cling, like those last, straggling leaves that
refuse to fall, hanging on for dear life, and more willing to bear the brutal
winter chill than release and move into a new phase of existence. But is it the
tree that hangs on, or the leaves? Maybe they are both clutching, neither
recognizing that the leaves, in their new form, still hold value, fertilizing
and nourishing the tree in new and different ways.
“When the heart weeps for what it has lost, the spirit
laughs for what it has found.” Sufi Teaching
I breathe in the ideas of shedding, releasing, and letting
go. I haven’t done anything with them yet, because I too am still clutching,
even though I know it goes against the natural order of things. However, I’m
thinking about these ideas and after all, isn't simple awareness often curative? Shedding, releasing, and letting go, are all concrete concepts, and with
them, I can begin to do “my work”.
Pondering the nature of the tree and its leaves further, I
recognize that letting go, shedding, and releasing, all serve me. Just as the
tree benefits from the fallen leaves that turn to mulch, I too am nourished by the experiences I let go of, the material things I release, the
stale, habitual thought patterns I shed; they help to fertilize me, becoming
the mulch of my life. I have learned from them all, used them all, and now in
releasing them, they continue to serve, and as I move forward, I incorporate their
wisdom into my being.
Unlike the leaves that hang on, continuing to drain energy
from their tree, by letting go, I reclaim my energy. As I release, I open
myself to going inward and to bringing clarity that re-organizes,
re-prioritizes, and re-negotiates.
The shedding around me signals a shift, a transformation.
Sometimes I am forced to let go, as if a gale-force wind blew all my leaves
off. Other times, things gently fall away on their own.
This phenomenon is seasonal, cyclical – I just don’t notice
it until I see the fallen leaves scattered on the ground. Perhaps I could
embrace this experience more often, recognizing the “fall” needed this month,
or week, or day; asking, “what needs to drop away?”.
At this point I am still exploring, not sure of what needs
to be released, but I am willing to look, write, reflect and assess; to see
which doors open easily and which seem to close. Over the last several months
Karen and I have been writing about success, and I suspect that embracing the
nature of the tree and its leaves will only enhance mine. I intend to take the
time necessary to identify what I need let go of, shed and release.
Practice Engaging Your Inner Wisdom:
What is calling you to be released? Can you be literal in
this application and clear out a cabinet, or a closet? Can you go through and
shed one thing from each room? Perhaps these actions will loosen up any
internal elements like thoughts, ideas, or concepts that you need to release. What
about your behaviors, actions and intentions? Are there any that you are
clinging to that need to move on, so that you can move forward? Do you have too
much on your plate, too much stuff, a bad relationship, an addiction? Take time
over the next several weeks to check in with yourself – write, paint, draw,
meditate – engage in whatever practice will help you embrace the natural cycle
of letting go, thereby making room for and feeding your new potential.