Labor Day and the Coming of Autumn

First fall in 14 years without Suzy.  How will it feel to hear the rustle of leaves without her by my side?  To see the bright reds and golds and feel the crisp autumn
air without my best friend nearby?

Autumn is a time of change. For leaves, for lives. We welcome the crimson Maples, gold Aspens and kalidoscopic color all around our favorite trunks and branches. We welcome cider mills and crackling fires, packing up shorts and sun dresses and snuggling into soft sweaters and down comforters.


We put off cleaning out our garages and gutters, raking up mounds of leaves and sorting out long-forgotten papers and piles scattered around our homes.  The pleasure principle is still alive and well. We move toward that which makes us happy, feels good and is comfortable. And we shirk that which causes too much work, worry, or uneasiness around our hearts.


So, then, where does grief fall? Surely not under "pleasure." Yet, not readily avoidable like cleaning out cupboards or passing on lima beans.  Rather, inescapable.  Like fog over a bay, it can be both treacherous and beautiful. Dangerous and captivating. Blinding yet myteriously moving.  So like Buddhists recommend, make friends with your demons.  Make peace with your past.  Make loving connections with everyone you meet. Robert Frost wrote a poem that captures the essence of change and grief.

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature's first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf's a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay.