I've been thinking a lot on what exactly it is about Autumn that I love so much, that makes the world feel so possible.
Traditionally, feelings hope and renewal are associated with the upshoots and buds of the Spring season.
The majority of my life-thus-far, I've started school each fall. For me, the new school year held so much opportunity for change -- and I've noticed (with Sebastian's close observation, as well) that I greatly thrive on change. If something feels wrong to me, I tend to get sucked down into it until I must make some drastic change in my immediate world (moving four times in less than a year? uh huh). Only with this external change can I move forward, re-energized and with hope in my world again.
Yet, even without a new school year beginning, I've still experienced this revitalization in the Fall.
I think, maybe, its the outdoors dying. It is a slow and graceful death, a final flash of color and brilliance before fading for the Winter's chill.
It is accepting this death as part of the greater movement of time, as the stimulation behind change, that the thing must end before the new thing can begin. The crispness in the air that first freezes and then kills the green-loaded branches and lawns sets also into our bones, and we must move to propel ourselves into what will come.
We must reinvent our lives a little bit to make room for what is to come.
+Chelsea
