The lessons we gather from falling leaves
Something is changing.
Anyone else hate junk mail? I rarely check my mailbox because I know the majority of the contents is junk. But I recently had a pleasant surprise when a package from the director of my writing residency came through. Inside was a book: How to Carry Water, a collection of poetry by the late Lucille Clifton. As I flipped, I immediately landed on the following poem:
the leaves believe
such letting go is love
such love is faith
such faith is grace
such grace is God
i agree with the leaves
Every season brings changes (depending on where you live, of course), but there is something about Autumn that sparks reflections of transformation, newness, and rebirth. Maybe it’s the start of the school year (though I’ve been out of school for nearly a decade). Maybe it’s winding down and replenishing my bank account after a less-restrictive summer. Maybe it’s because September is my birthday month. Whatever it is, I typically reflect and rest during this season in ways that I don’t seem to rest in other seasons and this year I’m reflecting on what it means to let go and still love. I won’t get into the details today, but I am learning that you can be the right package at the wrong address.
And what I mean by that is, just like the leaves, sometimes some things just aren’t for you in certain seasons. You can have the tools, you can read the books, you can go to therapy, you can have wise people who love you cheering you on. And still, though the tree hasn’t died, the leaves can’t stick around for every season. And that’s okay.
I’ve held onto many leaves for years! Leaves can be character traits (either picked up in childhood or passed down in my family through generations!), sources of meaning and safety, career goals, or expectations about what life would look like at age 31. But it’s time to let go, even if it means feeling exposed like a barren tree. The good thing about letting go, which I’ve also learned in my plant parent journey and pruning, is something better always grows back with plenty of care and nurturing. With time and intention, there is always the hope of something better.
What have you loved fiercely (or continue to love) but need to let go of this season?
Opportunities, Workshops, and Reading Lists:
The Write In Creative Writing Workshop is off to a great start. In September, we wrote haikus using all five senses in relation to Autumn and incorporated new words into our vocabulary. Register for a spot in October or November. All workshops are free.
This week is the last week to register for Labor Forward’s Black History Matters Class Miseducated: Reteaching 400+ Years of Black History.
Permission To Write, a space dedicated to amplifying the voices of writers of color, hosts weekly Power Hours. Come with your works-in-progress and get accountability to finish your writing projects––the playlist is always on point, too!
Anaphora Arts is hosting a 5-day Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Symposium on developing inclusive, creative classrooms. The symposium is designed to empower teachers and educators and will provide them with the tools necessary to infuse anti-racist practices throughout different curriculums.
Read all the Beyond The Magic interviews and for regular encouragement, follow Living Well on Instagram.
After owning for more than a year, I finally sat down and started reading Upile Chisala’s Nectar. It’s the literary, poetic hug I didn’t know I needed; and for such a time.