A Season of Change

In seasons of deep transformation, silence will be your greatest guide.”
      …Shauna Niequist in Present Over Perfect

Change of Season imageWe clearly see the physical transformation of living things around us in the fall. Deciduous trees are among the most visible of autumn’s shapeshifters. Their cloaks of green transform to yellow or orange or red or burgundys and russets. And when the trees are ready, sensing the shortening hours of light and feeling the cooler temperatures, the transfer of water to each leaf and food from the leaves ceases. The trees surrender their leaves to the earth.

We notice too a change in the air. Coolness descends in the late afternoon and lingers into the next morning. Squirrels work diligently to fill their larders for winter. The insect voices so characteristic of hot August evenings diminish. The evening is quieter here along the Conodoguinet now.

I, too, find myself thinking I am in a time of transition. Over the years I have seen how my yoga practices have helped me to open to risk and change. I tried new things: teaching a new class and workshops as well as letting go of classes; taking on the study of Vedic Chant; attending church; trying a different strategy to deal with anxiety and depression; deciding I needed to live more completely in sync with my values. For all of this, yoga and the support of my teacher have given me guidance and courage.

Now, I feel again in a place of change, hoping to be more fully present in my relationships, to deepen my learning and teaching of yoga, to work on what I can do to live in harmony with Mother Earth, and to find joy in living each day. Focusing on these priorities requires paring back some activities and maintaining more white space on my calendar. Simply, but not simple, is the need to give myself more space. Like the trees in this fall season, I have to let go of some things to nourish other things, including myself and those closest to me.

What will sustain me in this time of transformation will be my yoga practice, my communities of support, and the quiet in which I can hear the leanings of the spirit.

I wonder how many others of you are feeling the same draw to transition in your lives. If you would like to share your thoughts, please feel free to email or call me. You may find, as I did, that this is a journey that needs a community of support.

4 thoughts on “A Season of Change

  • October 9, 2017 at 12:13 pm
    Permalink

    Your writing always invites me to a deeper place within myself. As i get quiet, the beckoning I need becomes clear. In this blog I am drawn to “paring back some activities and maintaining more white space on my calendar.”

    This summer I added more self-nourishing activities – taking swim lessons to become at ease in deep water and taking piano lessons to enrich a piece of my childhood. I am in practice of these new skills.

    But I also feel called “to let go of some things to nourish other things.” This is the focus of my reflection these days. The desire for “white space” is insistent.

    Reply
  • October 9, 2017 at 3:25 pm
    Permalink

    Once again, dear Elizabeth, I welcome the wisdom of your words
    and spirit, as the need to create ‘space’ remains a particular
    challenge for me. With gratitude, Margee

    Reply
  • October 9, 2017 at 9:56 pm
    Permalink

    Elizabeth, our daily challenges, commitments and feelings of obligation can be overwhelming. I can relate to the need for maintaining more white space on my calendar. We reach a time when the focus needs to be on ourselves. It is difficult, but our yoga practice and power of the mind can offer a channel to our inner well being. Thinking of you and sending you wishes for peace and balance.

    Reply
  • October 9, 2017 at 10:08 pm
    Permalink

    Hi Elizabeth,
    This is a great read, a good reminder, and a good example of the need to focus in order to achieve and maintain space for one’s spirit. Thank you.

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *