Fall

October 9th. Fall swept in like a chalkboard eraser, cleaning the slate that was summer. I had been preparing myself: making lists of the joys of fall, pulling out my fall wardrobe, and entering those enthusiastic conversations with 'fall fan clubs.' Can't wait for fall!

But fall played dirty this year, and I don't appreciate that seeing as I am a newcomer and all. It hit like a sledgehammer with a storm system from the west coast, making me shiver, catch cold, and cry for the death of the fairy tale that was summer. Okay, maybe summer wasn't a fairy tale. Those last few weeks of perfect weather sort of were. Bad form, fall. Bad form.

October 9th. The sun came back out on October 5th, as if repentant for its inconsiderate behavior and my heart has slowly begun to recover hope. The trees are definitely turning now--glorious shades of yellow, red, and hot orange. I don't mind a chill in the evening. And after the storm system and bout of sickness, I am counting my blessings. I think it was all intentional: douse the new girl with icy water so she's grateful for the tepid shower. I don't like tricks like that.

I'm reminded of a story I read in middle school about the wind and the sun. They made a bet about who could get the little boy to take his jacket off. The wind howled and blew and the boy just hugged his jacket closer. The sun warmed him with gentle rays and there was no more need for the jacket.

Expediency and force aren't all they are cracked up to be. It is so easy to want control. It is so easy to try and bend things to my will. Sometimes I feel like my culture is handing out free hammers and raising its children to use it as their favorite tool. No one answering your knock? Keep hammering until you get their attention. Did that nail go crooked? Bang it back into place. Can't get the pearl out of the oyster shell? Smash it into pieces. But you can't make anything grow by hammering the earth. And no hammer can mend a wounded heart.

It is my conviction that gentleness and patience are far more powerful than the force of a hammer. No matter what I do, I cannot change the weather. But the weather is here to change my life. I can resist it and be miserable, or be patient with it and learn.

Fall always gives me the feeling that death is approaching. Not all seasons are seasons of rebirth. But I think sometimes that the four seasons give one of the clearest parallels to life. If we could choose one season and dispose of the rest, how many people would choose spring? Or summer? We want success in our lives. We want newness, rebirth, growth, and sunshine. We can deny pain in our lives. We can deny failure and cover it up. We can control what others see of our lives. But we can't control the seasons. Up here, in this world, everyone is passing through fall. It's a change in life that we all have to deal with, whether we love it or not.

Hello fall.