But I had my answer in the absence of your words.
Fleetwood Mac is one of my all time favorite bands. This song is my favorite – just behind Sara. In spite of how much I love this song, I had not see this video until recently. The emotion from Stevie as she sings & stares down (haha) Lindsey Buckingham is…phew. She’s an incredible story teller and this video drives home that point (in my opinion). While I am waiting in a ridiculously long line, this song came on and it seemed to fit my mood. “Time cast a spell, but you won’t forget me.”
“So I’ll begin not to love you
Turn around, you’ll see me runnin’
I’ll say I loved you years ago
And tell myself you never loved me no
Don’t say that she’s pretty
And did you say that she loves you?
Baby, I don’t want to know – Oh no
And can you tell me was it worth it?
Baby, I don’t want to know Time cast a spell on you but you won’t forget me
I know I could’ve loved you
But you would not let me Time cast a spell on you but you won’t forget me
I know I could’ve loved you but you would not let me
I’ll follow you down ’til the sound of my voice will haunt you
Give me just a chance, you’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you”
Life has passed by very quickly the last couple of weeks. Work tends to do that to me. I’m one who wants to savor and slow the moments. My favorite pace is no pace. Haha. I’m a flip flop wearing, windows down, slow it down – kind of girl. Last I remember (okay, this is a slight exaggeration), it was October 1st. And here it is, almost the 22nd. I’m rushing through my days trying to get projects for work taken care of – which tends to mean my head is down and my energy is focused on what happens between 8-4, Monday through Friday.
Autumn is such a beautiful time of the year. While I am a great lover of all things Christmas (I have Christmas issues), I absolutely treasure the change of summer to autumn. Growing up in Southern California, we just didn’t do seasons. Not really. Sure, there are changes. But you’re just as apt to wear a sweatshirt on the beach in June, as you are in December. Nothing makes sense at home. “June Gloom” is a phrase any resident of “SoCal” understands well. If you live near-ish the coast, it’s not unusual to grab a sweatshirt for the bonfire on a summer night. Our summer days are hot. We have heat waves. But it can also be blessedly mild (all year). SoCal doesn’t have trees quite like we do here. It is a desert, after all. So the colors associated with this change of season aren’t as prevalent. There are exceptions. The photo below is from the mountains (Oak Glen, CA). I snapped that photo about 11.5 years ago. I couldn’t resist because it’s not a site I saw all that often. When I moved to the Washington, D.C. area in 2000, I was in heaven. Autumn in our nation’s capital is a sight to behold. It’s just not the same at home. I was in love. I knew then that I didn’t ever want to live anywhere I couldn’t experience the four seasons – in some form.
I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.L.M. Montgomery – from Anne of Green Gables
In the south, where I live now, summer is a joy to me too (for a few weeks). And then, when we hit mid-July or early August, I’m done. Done. It’s hot. It’s humid. And for a person who loves the outdoors, being outside is just . . . soul-sucking. As the temperatures drop here in the south, the humidity begins to dissipate too. There’s a chill in the air – in the mornings and I have to wear a jacket to work. Of course, by the time we’re midway through the day, the car is hot and I don’t even want to look at that jacket.
Along with the cooler temps, low humidity, and the color on the trees (it is slow-going out here on the coast), there’s a special golden glow of light in the early evening hours. It’s unlike anything I’d ever seen at home. I adore it. The scent of bonfires and burning leaves is a constant. Autumn reminds me of the ways that life shifts and changes. Autumn reminds me that no season in our lives is permeant. We may find ourselves dormant in the winter – feeling cold and dreary as the grey takes over – but eventually, life springs forth again.
I hate waking up, after a season has passed, with the realization that the piling up of the Monday-Friday made me miss the sweet, quiet moments I treasure and savor. Last fall, while I did write a novel – my life moved at a pace I couldn’t sustain. I don’t want that anymore. The goal, as I stay in place – because a weird God (but I love Him anyway), doesn’t move me – is to sustain the pace I long for, regardless of where life takes me.
Autumn shows us how beautiful it is to let things go.Unknown
This is not an easy feat – sustaining the pace you long for, even when life is crazy. The truth is, life is in each moment. And yes, that means work & the stuff you don’t care for, too. The question is, where do you want to invest most your time, heart, effort, and energy? That’s an easy answer for me. Autumn is a stunning example of what it means to let go. I’m sure you’ve heard variations of the quote above. Autumn shows us how beautiful it is to let things go. Learning to let go is a beautiful thing. Green – the deeper and brighter the better – is a reminder of life and all things new. As those green leaves change to yellows, oranges, browns, and reds – and begin to fall to the ground, it’s a quiet signal that in spite of the loss of the green, life is just as beautiful as always.
Once the leaves fall and life looks rather drab through the grey winter, there’s still growth happening. Deep in the ground and in the trees and plants, these processes continue on – though you can’t see them. This time of year, as the colors deepen and prepare us for the long days of winter, I’m reminded of grace, too. This is the beauty of the changing of the seasons. I needed the reminder this week to slow down. If you’re racing through your days, I hope you will take the time to slow everything down to savor the beauty, before winter comes – internally and in the world around you.
Letting go is necessary. But somehow harder without closure. If you’re there, I feel your pain. But he’s so right – there’s no way out, but through. You just gotta feel what you’re feeling.
There’s a thing that sometimes happens when you’re standing in the forest – your feet firmly planted on the leaves and pine needles that fall to the ground. Silence. There are times when I’m on a trail that I don’t even hear a bird make a peep. If the breeze or wind is non-existent there’s no rush of wind through the pines (one of my favorite sounds ever). It’s just silence. This is a comforting silence. It’s even more comforting in the high heat of summer when the sun and humidity bake the pines. The intoxicating scent of pine and the silence of a still day in the woods, are a gift.
Silence, outside of this and a few other instances, is not my friend, however. Silence gives me one impression. I can draw no other conclusions. I – the lover of words and the woman who lives for them – need words spoken or written. I literally need them. Without them, I get lost along the way and have trouble keeping my head in the game.
I’m having trouble finding my way. The silence is deafening. I can only draw one conclusion – and it’s breaking my heart. In the silence, I’ve discerned my value to you. And though it’s killing me, I have to walk away.