As seasons change, I always notice vast amounts writers who post on the personal meaning the season brings for them. I love this, so I am going to do the same.
Fall brings with it so many things I treasure. Yes, including the pumpkin craze. I have had my fair share of PSLs this month and I am fully stocked up on teas, coffees etc. I am actually drinking Trader Joe’s pumpkin spice coffee right now. It is heavenly, you should try it. Seriously, go buy it before its too late. I of course love the colours of fall, whether it be the leaves, the sky or pulling out all my brown and red scarfs from the bottom of my closet. Fall is cozy and comfortable, its layers and booties. Fall is the perfect middle between summer and winter. Yes, fall is my favourite season.
But, fall also scares me. This time of transition between summer and winter is always the hardest time of year for me. I can think back on all the moments in my life that have hurt deeply and so many of them have occurred in the fall.
Why then, you might ask, is this time my favourite time of the year?
Let me explain.
I love summer as much as anyone. I love the nostalgic feeling I get when I smell sunscreen or see the scar on my stomach I received at summer camp long ago. I enjoy tan lines and could have BBQ’d corn errday. And truthfully, I love how surreal summer is. You can never remake a summer, each one is so unique. I notice the surreal side of summer most in winter, when it hasn’t stopped raining in weeks (honestly, some places in Canada just don’t get much snow. I promise), and you would give anything to be on the dock at the lake once again. But, as you have this memory it can feel like it happened in a different world, a world not of your own life. Maybe even like it happened in a book you once read or a movie you once watched. Summer to me is a well needed escape from the sometimes painful lives we live.
On the other hand I believe fall represents most clearly the reality that is ours. As we delete the summer playlist from our itunes, and as our burns begin to fad, and weekends are back to just two days a week reality begins to creep in. We start to get ready for the real stuff. As I like to call it – “the fall breakdown”. I don’t mean a breakdown in an actual mental or physical way, rather a breaking down of all the walls we put up to simply enjoy the bliss of summer. The things we couldn’t hear over our playlists or pushed aside to enjoy each and every late night sunset. These realities can hit us hard and I think we hold onto our defences against them as long as we can, but as fall begins to turn to winter we like those stubborn last few wet and soggy leaves will have to fall in defeat to the ground beneath us.
So, fall scares me. It scares me because I always know it has something to teach me and the lessons won’t be easy. They will involve falling, hitting the bottom and most likely staying there for a while. Because as winter rolls around the time of waiting begins, before things can be made new in the spring.
Fall is a painful time for me, but it’s the most real friend I could ever ask for. Like bone it breaks me down so I can be built up stronger. I am forever thankful for this time even as I wrestle against it.
This year I want to be prepared for the wait. For that slow and sometimes unnoticeable growth winter brings.
I trust fall will get me there.