Let go freely
Possessions, expectations, commitments, distractions... let them all go
The first day of rain in weeks.
The dry at last broken by a daylong downpour.
I am relieved that our thirsty trees are finally sated, arid soils rejuvenated and my soul replenished. The week ahead brings the autumn equinox, marking the end of a long, hot summer and the beginning of the season of shedding. Of transformation. Of letting go.
In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you. - Jack Kornfield
There is no better time of year than the awakening of autumn to simplify, slow down and embrace a seasonal life. All around Mother Nature is showing us how it is done. All we have to do is take the hint and follow her lead.
At the tail end of summer when everything is spent (myself included), I look to the garden. It tells me, it’s time. Take heart. Take stock. Hold tight to what truly matters and let the rest fall away.
I am reminded that I can do anything, but not everything. That I don’t want to buy a good life, I want to make it. I discard what doesn’t sit well with me anymore and question the necessity of what remains. Each choice, desire and longing is run through the lens of our values, I return to our why and focus on simple pleasures. Bread song. Childs play. Hand writing. The spellbinding magic of books. Fresh, cool, enlivening autumnal air.
Letting go of anything that feels out of alignment with our values and vision feels vital at this transformational time. We are gently shifting gears. Turning inward. Turning homeward. Summer is for adventures. Autumn is for nesting.
We are investing our time, energy and money into our home, our kitchen and garden. Our 40 year old bench tops have sadly turned to pulp. With gratitude, we are parting with the aged patina of the originals, which bear dints and markings full of stories and memories, of the many different families who have also lived in and loved this house. Recycled timber replacements are days away from being installed, made from old roof rafters, a medley of messmate, oak and ash, handcrafted by a dear friend’s brother and father, which should keep our beautiful old kitchen going for at least another 40 years.
Goodbyes continue in our garden, with the removal of our beloved apple crate planter boxes. Half currently sit barren, decomposing gracefully, the last of the summer crops scattered throughout the remainder. The final zucchini, the eggplant glut and the almost red capsicums bid their farewells alongside the yet to blossom cosmos, which when they do appear, will be the most riotous send off a raised bed could hope for. These boxes have yielded us a plenitude of food and flowers over the years but like everything, their time has come. Over the cooler months ahead we will be dismantling, redesigning and preparing a new in-ground patch. We’ll be doing the shadow work any good garden requires for longevity and prosperity.
You cannot keep planting seeds in fallow soil.
I sit at my desk in our studio and admire the orchard before me. The pale green and canary yellow leaves of the cherry tree, the russeted edges of the quince, the parched yet verdant curls of the citrus and the carpet of brown that circles each trunk. Many have already fallen, with plenty still to come. The wind whips more off with each gust, those that hold tightly glisten and shimmer. No fruit remains save the swelling of lemons, blood oranges, mandarins and limes. The others have played their part. Whether they bore only a little or a lot, they can all rest in the knowledge they gave what they had to give. Without seeking permission, they doff their finery yet sacrifice nothing. Their gold, claret and amber droppings are treasure to our compost heap. Nothing is wasted. Their time to dazzle will come once more, after a well earned, much needed slumber.
Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth. - Henry David Thoreau
Things to shed this season:
Possessions - excess items, clothes, toys
Expectations - of others, of yourself, of society at large
Commitments - work, activities, social events
Distractions - screens, social media, news
If you were to declutter your calendar, empty your inbox, shut out external influences and tune into our heart, what would it tell you?
Now is the time to let go freely of that which no longer nourishes you.
Toxic relationships, bad habits, negative emotions, outdated beliefs, obsolete objects, unwanted opinions - let them all go.
Allow your cloak of leaves to descend and the rain cleanse and renew your spirits.
Colder, darker days are coming.
Shed your burdens and allow the light in.
Thank you for reading my musings on the many little measures that add up to a slower, simpler more seasonally attuned life.
I hope my words help gently guide and encourage you on your own journey.
My writing is free to read, and always will be.
