Fall Transitions and Transformation: Tuesday's Reflection

In what ways have you made the transition into fall? What are you doing that is different from even a month ago? What are signs of this shift?

I now shut the front door when I come in from outside, instead of keeping it open to the glass storm door. 

I fix a cup of hot chocolate when I return from my morning walk, especially if I have neglected to grab a pair of lightweight gloves as I leave the house. The steam from the hot chocolate mimics the steam on my glasses when I step back into the house.

I wrap myself in a shawl during morning devotion time and sometimes even later when I work at my desk. 

I turn on the kitchen lights when I fix dinner, for the darkness appears earlier and earlier. And dinner these days is often soup or squash or other hearty food. 

I clean my closet, folding and storing summer clothes, replacing them with sweaters and corduroy shirts and pants. I switch spring jackets and raincoat for winter vests and heavy coats. 

I don't miss a chance to comment on the glories of these days, the gifts of a long fall. Often the response from stranger or friend will be about the dreaded winter. I nod and smile, as if in agreement, but I am a winter-lover, as much as a fall enthusiast. 

And yet, just the other day I sat outside on the front step and ate my turkey sandwich and read in the noontime sunshine. The shift is not yet complete.

That's the thing about fall. 

          Autumn holds fragments of other seasons in transform-
          ative arms. Even while forecasting an end to lush green
          summer, we are still gifted with some warm, green
          moments. The quiet turning of the leaves from summer
          green to radiant arrays of color offers us a splendor as 
          lovely as the blossoms of spring. Sitting in autumn's
          quiet sunlight can be a sonnet without words. Ever so
          slowly, this season turns its face toward winter. It is a
          bridge between the warmth and the cold. Beginning
          with summer's dew still in its hair, it can quickly
           become a friend of winter's frost. 
                                   The Circle of Life,
                                   The Heart's Journey Through the Seasons
                                   Joyce Rupp and Macrina Wiederkehr

Fall is the perfect time to think about the shifts in our lives. Yes, our external lives, but also our inner lives. Where on the bridge of your life are you standing? "What do we need to gather into our spiritual barns? What in our lives needs to fall away like autumn leaves so another life waiting in the wings can have its turn to live?" (The Circle of Life, p. 168)

The balance between trees still sheltered by leaves in rich colors to bare branches shifts daily, even hourly. The sidewalk becomes a broadcast of leaf shuffling, and pumpkins seem to appear spontaneously on steps. We can wake to the trees as they surrender their hold on the leaves and to the leaves as they let go. 

Come, let us discover what needs to shift in our own lives and awaken to the next stage of our lives.

An Invitation
How is fall your teacher? What message does fall have for your inner life? I would love to know.  

Note: Thanks to Daniel Mauer for including one of my recent posts on "transformation" on his dynamic site Transformation Is Real. Daniel is a writer and speaker and recovery advocate and is passionate about sharing stories about the role of transformation in people's lives. You can read my post and visit his site here.

Transformation, Part 2: Thursday's Reflection

The transformation of our house from its previous pale gold color to the new aqua blue, which signals the colors inside our house, is not quite done. It may look done, if you don't know the plan and besides it certainly looks different to anyone passing by, but I know what's missing.

The red door. 

I know the transformation is not done. 

Sometimes one change leads to another. 

Sometimes we simply need more time, especially when other parts of life intervene. That is true for the red door, which will be a project for next summer, and that is just fine. 

Sometimes we need to live with one change before we can be intentional about making another change. 

And sometimes we need help.

This week we are getting help with the house's transformation. Bruce was uncomfortable painting the back of the house because of the electrical wires, so he hired professional painters to complete the job. As I work on this post, one of the painters is working outside my garret window. I am willing to accept the scraping noise and the sounds of conversation and their radio in order to move forward with this transformation.

What a relief it is to know that someone with more experience and training is available to help when help is needed. And wasn't Bruce smart to recognize the need for help and to take the step to get it? One more step towards transformation is underway. 

Homes On Our Block

One more thought about transformation: The homes in our cozy neighborhood are mainly painted in shades of beige, cream, white, grey with an occasional sage green. The color of our house is not the norm, to say the least, but the neighbors have been complimentary. I wonder if the transformation of our house will encourage others to make a change, too. Perhaps not as radical a change as we have made, but maybe others will become more open to color in some area of their life or perhaps just seeing the lightness as they walk to the bus stop every morning will give them an unexpected lift. 

Who knows, but I do know that transformation spreads and doesn't contain itself. 

Thanks to Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat and their book Spiritual Rx, Prescriptions for Living a Meaningful Life for this bit of mindfulness:
          Breathing in: As Spirit transforms me,…
          Breathing out: may I transform the world.

An Invitation
What steps remain in a change you know you need to make? Is it time to ask for help? How has one transformation in your life led to others? I would love to know. 

Transformation, Part I: Tuesday's Reflection

Before

After

All summer Bruce has been painting the exterior of our house. Now, instead of a more gold than yellow color, the house is a refreshing and uplifting aqua blue. The trim is a clean white as is the stucco, replacing an off white in need of a good scrubbing, and the window boxes are now a crisp black, rather than the faded forest green of previous years. 

The house is transformed, and we love the new look.  

This house may date from the 20's, but this new look has given it new life and it has become, as Meridel Le Sueur wrote, "luminous with age." 

Of course, this transformation did not happen without a vision of what this house could look like, nor did it happen without work. Bruce spent many days on the ladder this summer, and once he started there was no turning back. True, we could have second guessed ourselves and decided we didn't like the chosen color. We then would have needed to select a different color, maybe a safer one like white or grey, but it would not have been possible to return to the way it was. 

My job was to notice the change and to encourage and compliment and reinforce. Sometimes one just needs to get used to the change.

Transformation is like that. 

Joan Chittister says that an important part of the aging process "lies in simply getting accustomed to being older." But hasn't that always been the case. We've needed time to get used to other changes in our life, even when we have chosen them. Time to adjust to living or working some place new or time to accept a health challenge or a loss of a relationship. Over our many years we have had experience with change and transformation. 

We know how to do this, even when it isn't easy, even when it requires patience, but here's what I love about transformation.

The process of transformation reminds us that no matter who you are, how old you are or what has happened to you in the past or what you have done, it is still possible to be and do something new. Just look at our sweet little 1920's cottage.

An Invitation

What is waiting to be transformed in your life? What new "color" is calling you? I would love to know. 

Transformations: Tuesday's Post

Ok, I don't know where I am going with this, but I will try to stay open to thoughts as they come and try to organize them in a way that makes some sense or at least opens you, dear reader, to some new thoughts or even clarification of old thoughts. 

Recently, I was on a road trip in Iowa with special friends from Madison. One of our destinations was Iowa City where longtime friends of one of us in the group live. They generously hosted us for a night and treated us to a tour of The Harvest Preserve, which is a large area of land our hosts purchased in order to preserve its beauty and sacredness as a spiritual sanctuary. http://www.harvestpreserve.org  I am still processing all I saw and felt there, but one image seems to be following me:  The Man on the Bench. 

The Man on the Bench, a sculpture by Douglas Paul and J.B. Barnhouse, presides over the preserve and can be seen by anyone driving, walking, or biking along the preserve's borders. He is massive and can not be ignored. A benevolent presence? Yes, I think so. A Buddha of the Prairie, perhaps. As our group toured the preserve, experiencing one sacred place after another, I kept thinking about The Man on the Bench and felt him watching me, even wondering what I was going to do next. It seemed to me he was urging me to consider carefully my days ahead and how to live them authentically, encouraging exploration and commitment to the person I was created to be. 

Last week on an early morning walk I found another sculpture of a

man on a bench--or at least the man's head. I was tempted to sit on the bench and listen to what this head had to say to me, just as I had been tempted to climb the hill and crawl onto The Man on the Bench's lap and lean my head into his massive chest and listen to his very heartbeat. I didn't do that nor did I sit on this bench in the yard of someone I don't know, but I felt the head watching me and reminding me to open my eyes and my ears and to not miss any opportunity to live life fully. At the same time I thought about how this was only a "head" and how often we live out of our heads and miss listening to our hearts and our bodies, but that's another topic. I think. 

A third piece. The Gospel reading Sunday was the story of Nicodemus in dialogue with Jesus and Nicodemus asks him, "How can anyone be born after having grown old?" Jesus talks about being born of the Spirit. Once again I felt compelled to listen carefully to the measure of my days. Joan Chittister refers to this time of spiritual maturity when she says, "Down deep inside ourselves we know there is something different going on now. We are being transformed."

I agree, but we must be intentional. We must pay attention. We must listen for ways we are called to live authentically and fully. We are being watched, benevolently, but insistently, to finally allow Spirit to work in us in ways our zoom, zoom younger lives seemed to prevent us from doing. The Man on the Bench is not checking to see if I am perfect or if I always do the right and honorable thing or if I always do what I say I am going to do, such as meditating every day or getting in 10,000 steps daily or eating better or whatever. Instead, The Man on the Bench reminds me that now is the time of transformation. It is not too late, but if not now, when. 

An Invitation
Where is your Man on the Bench and what is he gently pushing you to do or be or become? In what ways is this a time of transformation for you? I would love to know.