The beginning of September is when the idea of fall begins: a new year of school starts, a certain coffee corporation rolls out their gourd-flavored latte prompting vociferous rejection from millennials (who secretly cherish it.) But while September temperatures still blazed high in the 80s, fall’s chunky sweaters and scarves were cast aside by 10am, fall soups were sweatily eaten, fall potlucks were basically identical to summer barbecues.
Let’s be real: fall doesn’t really start until October.
And with our big move to the new farm in July, we didn’t actually start school until this week! As the rain and nip of chill actually start to feel like a change of seasons, I think about how many changes have happened for us in the last year. A new home, new setting and new opportunities surround us as we trickle into the sustainable agriculture community, faith community, and young parent community in Oregon’s Rogue Valley.
While I’m the kind of person that loves change, shifting dynamics often spark a twinge of anxiety. Where will I find rest and belonging? Will I be enough to meet these new challenges?
Maybe seeds feel this way as they let go their perch atop a tall, bolted plant and plummet to the unknown earth below. They’re probably not scared: they have everything they need inside to sleep through the winter and make themselves over again in spring. Or maybe the squirrels feel that gnaw of worry that they’re not ready for the changing season, they seem frantic enough. But a squirrel knows what she need too: she isn’t outfitted to make it through winter alone, she depends on the strength of seeds and acorns to survive. The squirrel surrounds herself with the right support to sustain her.
Some of us have what we need to adjust to a particular change; others share what they have to help everyone make it through. I’ve leaned on Justin, my family and friends to adjust to my changes, but I’ve also listened more than I ever have to a quiet internal courage. This last year I have struggled with postpartum anxiety and found I need to dig deeper from all sources of strength. I’m deeply thankful to all the seeds, (nuts!) and squirrels in my life who have offered me support and given me the chance to do the same for them.
May you savor the seasonal shift: not only the baked things and ubiquitous pumpkin, but also the change that asks you to draw up the strength of others, your deepest self, and a Higher Love to sustain.