The fall equinox arrived early Monday morning which marks the time when Mother Nature, or somebody, hits the dimmer switch on the northern hemisphere.
For those of us who are prone to seasonal depression, fading daylight can trigger the symptoms of fatigue, carbohydrate cravings, sleep disturbances and a blue mood. This year I am trying something different, although if I find myself in a debilitating depression I will not hesitate to start medication or light therapy. I thought I might try coping with the turning seasons as an opportunity to also make a shift within myself.
Suddenly fall is upon us with its crisp air and bright blue skies; leaves poised for their last, final dance before dying. This rhythm of nature can be a reminder of mortality. I see plants I nurtured in the spring and hot summer, now dried up and finished with their job.
It’s not that far a leap to examine my own life. Is there a final, colorful dance for us “middle aged” folks? In this community I am in touch with all sorts of ages and stages. I live with my Dad who is 84 and just witnessed the birth of a baby, both of these things a privilege. At other times in my life I have been more insulated from birth, aging and death. Living in a big metropolitan area I associated mostly with those my age or a few years older or younger. Certainly those toward the end of their life were not in evidence other than an occasional neighbor or far away relative. I never knew, intimately, what old folks thought and cared about.
As I age and watch others, I am struck with how our inner world contrasts so starkly with our outer appearance. I have heard more than one person, like me, startle at one’s own reflection in the mirror.
The lesson of fall might be inspiring. Yes, we’re over the hump now, and on the downhill side, but a colorful life might still possible. In fact, it’s easier since most of us are beyond caring what others think. We realize it’s too late to please everyone. On the contrary, living an authentic life, true to us, is what seems important.
Now we have one more chance to clarify beliefs about spirit and the meaning of life. At no other time, outside of adolescence, do these questions so beg to be answered. During the stage between young adulthood and when the kids leave home, time and energy are taken up making sure children are OK, that we have enough to support them, that they are encouraged, nurtured and fed – the business of procreation.
Lately I have been reading Carl Jung and watching an old Bill Moyers/Joseph Campbell PBS program on myth – both are moving and reassuring for us on the down side. Toward the end of his life Jung explored his own dreams and waking visions. Much of his psychological theory is helpful for life’s later questions. I recommend his autobiography, “Memories, Dreams and Reflections.”
Following a long illness and a near death experience he writes about coming to a place of understanding. “Something . . . came to me from my illness. . . an affirmation of things as they are: an unconditional ‘yes’ to that which is, acceptance of my own nature as I happen to be.” He also says “when one lives one’s own life, one must take mistakes into the bargain, life would not be complete without them.”
It is indeed a hard concept to integrate that being “perfect,” whatever that means to me, is not the goal – that being better, smarter, more attractive, slimmer, more competent, is really not the thing. What would happen if and when I throw off this striving? Won’t I just collapse in an inert, lazy lump?
Jung says not and I am tempted to give it a try. I have a sense nothing will have changed except my attitude.
Those fall leaves don’t go around feeling bad because they’re not young and green anymore, they celebrate their bright fall colors.
Sept. 28, 2002