i. I think I have fallen in love with September because of the way it is the beginning of change, or the end of it. You see, it is the when I say goodbye to my flip-flops and bikinis, when I turn my back on the scorching summer sun. But I am welcomed in the arms of colored leaves and Autumn breezes and I have never felt more in place.
ii. September weeped with me when I was left by the first boy I ever kissed. It witnessed a bright sunflower transforming into a dead tree with bare branches, not a leaf in sight. The dirt swallowed my tears and the wind covered up my cries. It stayed with me night after night until the sleeves of my sweaters dried up.
iii. I learned that trees did not die when the weather turned cooler in September. The falling of leaves is what helps the tree survive through a bitter cold winter. It seals the places where leaves would grow in order to skip the game of death. So maybe people are that way too, closing up and thinking it is the end; but it is not.
iv. Somehow, I like to associate September with endings but I have to say that it has brought many new starts in my life as well. Friendships, new hot drinks at my favorite coffee places, odd adventures, and new feelings.
v. Change isn’t bad. Change is the falling of leaves; one, two, three leaves slowly touching the ground. And between those shades of orange and yellow and brown is a voice calling your name. You may not want to make a mess but you’ll end up with a smile on your face the second you dare to jump in.
Someone once told me a story about long term relationships. To think of them as a continent to explore. I could spend a lifetime backpacking through Africa, and I would still never know all there is to know about that continent. To stay the course, to stay intentional, to stay curious and connected – that’s the heart of it. But it’s so easy to lose track of the trail, to get tired, to want to give up, or to want a new adventure. It can be so easy to lose sight of the goodness and mystery within the person sitting right in front of you.
You get a strange feeling when you’re about to leave a place. Like you’ll not only miss the people you love but you’ll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you’ll never be this way ever again.
It’s too easy, you see, to get trapped in the past. The past is very seductive. People always talk about the mists of time, you know, but really it’s the present that’s in a mist, uncertain. The past is quite clear, and warm, and comforting. That’s why people often get stuck there.
You go from dream to dream inside me. You have passage to my last shabby corner, and there, among the debris, you’ve found life. I’m no longer sure which of all the words, images, dreams or ghosts are ‘yours’ and which are ‘mine.’ It’s past sorting out.
And now we’re supposed to go back to our normal lives. That’s what people do. They have these amazing experiences with another person, and then they just go home and clean the bathroom or whatever.
In Greek, “nostalgia” literally means “the pain from an old wound”. It’s a twinge in your heart, far more powerful than memory alone. This device isn’t a spaceship, it’s a time machine. It goes backwards and forwards, it takes us to a place where we ache to go again.
Your sadness is not beautiful. It’s not keeping you warm. It’s not keeping you company. You don’t feel it right now but your sadness is sinking you. It’s slowly taking over your body, biting your soul and splitting your heart. Don’t let it crack you open. Fight it.