Celebrating the Endings
It is easy and normal to celebrate the beginnings, but what about the endings?
Standing in the garden as it only aches for rest, summer feels no longer like something we can go backward toward. It is far more evident that winter and spring lie between the reemergence of summer.
The rain has been drizzling on and off at various rates for days now. It has reminded me of the importance of a great raincoat and boots that thrive best in mud… how simple of a gift they are in life in the changing seasons. I am telling myself that these two things allow the rain to feel beautiful and magical more than anything else. Once again, repeating the words of my childhood, “There is never bad weather, just poor clothing choices.” How true this statement still remains.
I have learned to love the rain over the years since returning back to Michigan. I no longer hide from it other than when it feels it may drown us, but even then, I sit in complete awe under the cover of the porch, just to feel how the air changes when the rain rolls over the hills around us. The power of a downpour is something that holds intense energy and mystery all its own that I have loved ever since I was a child.
In these final days of October, the trees are past peak now, and the rain, even in warmer temps we have been having, has told them the time to let go has approached. The mist in the hills will recede eventually and reveal all the bare branches and skeletal outlines of the trees that have emerged beneath the low clouds and rising fog. Soon enough, the moon will set behind the outlines of the branches that once hid the forest floors around us and reveal all the final movements of the animals as they transition into hibernation before the snow and darkness are upon the land.
I love this liminal space of the seasons. The converging of the endings and beginnings. The demand for us to sink in and look deeper while also holding hope for what will come after we let go and rest. A space where we aren’t returning to summer or racing toward winter. The slow descent to the shortest day of the year feels like a journey that requires our full attention because if we blink, it will happen before we have prepared for it.
In all the years as a northerner, I have realized how vital it is to pay attention to the tiniest shifts in the world around me. It has made me curious about the tiniest parts of the natural world that unfold around me daily. These things are the key to preparing us for the hardest time of life in the north: Winter. Every winter has its depths, even for the seasonal lover and northern soul, but the more I spend time in nature and adjust my body and soul to see where we are in the year, the more joy and less resistance I find.
Everything about Autumn, in particular, is worthy of our attention. The changing tree colors. The changing weather patterns. The way the air smells. The way the water feels. The things our bodies begin longing for. The shift in clothing. The way we begin to desire to sleep longer and later. The natural and tiny shifts in our cells are happening just as it is in nature. By not giving them space, we will find ourselves surprised by the darkness and heaviness of winter. Instead, Autumn prepares us perfectly for winter. Paying attention to it all is vital to a winter that is settled, reflective, restful, healing, and full of quiet that will give us everything we need for the growth and abundance that lies ahead of us.
So, I am giving myself every inch of awareness and the land around me the same. I am standing in awe of how the lichen feels after all the drizzles, watching how the water flows over the rutted spots in the sand we call soil on the land or how the drops trail down the colorful leaves. It is all life-giving and the guidance my heart and soul need to prepare for the incoming winter.
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The Story in the Leaves - Seasonal Essay
We can have Autumns - Last week’s free newsletter
10/27 Reflection - Endings as Celebrations
The entire land around us is in this array of colors. The perennial beds have tones of red and purple alongside warm browns and oranges. The maples are in every tone of yellow, orange, and red, while the aspen and beech are vibrant yellows along with the birch right now. Then there is the grass, which is still vibrantly green because we haven’t seen a hard enough frost or snow yet. As we descend further to the shortest day of the year, the land around us is celebrating the end of everything.
I cannot help but watch this with complete curiosity. Everything as a human is about celebrating the beginnings. The big things. The moment something catapults us into new growth. Yet here I am, watching the entire landscape dancing and celebrating in an array of colors and falling leaves that feel like confetti as everything is fading simultaneously. It leaves me asking, why don’t we celebrate endings too? Why don’t we celebrate the fact that something served us, but we must let it go to grow in new ways?
This season, letting go of Fresh Exchange and running a brand was an ending. Our community platform will close in December. Things are ending. I am shedding things. I am like the trees. Yet I sometimes feel this odd heaviness, anxiousness, and vulnerability lingering in my chest even as I see all the space for new growth. Still, I cannot help but feel the weight and sadness that still exists with letting go.
Wandering through the pathless land in the woods this week, I wondered if I have this heaviness because the ending needs to be celebrated, just like how the trees do this. Maybe I need to celebrate everything that once served me instead of focusing on what is being lost. I have mucked through the loss long enough, and now celebrating the ending is as necessary as the beginnings need it. Though I see new beginnings, they aren’t as clear. There is still a lot of fog out there in my path. So, letting go feels scary as much as it is exciting.
The trees dance in a colorful rainbow and then drop their leaves. The leaves will degrade and then feed the forest that sustains them. This lesson is one I am taking to heart this week. How can I dance and be thankful for the ending of one thing? How will I let the celebrations feed what will grow in the spring? These questions will accompany me as I wander the land and clear my garden, where I already celebrate their endings. Now, all I must do is learn how to do the same in myself.
*** These reflections are intended to help you see the truth from the land I hear throughout the week and spend time with it. Longer-form essays have moved to paid subscriptions on Wednesdays. ***
This section is intended to give you a way to look at this season every week. They are high-level ways to connect to the rhythms of your daily life.
How to Celebrate Endings
As I mentioned above, I have been thinking about how we celebrate beginnings but struggle to do so with endings. So, I am choosing to come up with more ways we can celebrate endings in our lives in a way that acknowledges what they gave to us, how they clarified life, what they taught us, and what they can feed in the next beginning.
Here are a couple of ideas I had on how to celebrate endings:
Starting a bonfire and burning away things that connect with the ending. Letting it float away and turn to ash. We do this with the garden with diseased plants, so why not do this with our lives, too?
Having a literal party. Yes, invite some friends and say you celebrate quitting your job or ending a relationship or something of that sort. Why not?
Cook a fancy dinner for those closest to you who have been through it with you, and cheers to the end as if it is as exciting as the beginning that will surely follow.
Plant a tree or perennial plant to signal the ending of a time in life. Plants can be a great way to catalog growth and change over time. Planting a tree in the fall is a great idea in general. Why not choose one that marks a moment in life?
Go on a trip. If you have the means and/or time, maybe hit the open road alone or with a friend and use it to shed away all the things. Thinking Elizabethtown style, you know? Now I want to watch that movie.
In what ways have you celebrated endings, or would you celebrate an ending? Share in the comments below.
Here are the things this week that I have been holding at the top of my mind and enjoying right now. Feel free to comment below anything you also love! I would love to hear in the comments. You all usually have some amazing things.
Reading: If I go to Fan Girl about someone, it would be Monty Don. I don’t watch much TV, but I enjoy Gardeners’ World because it is calm, thoughtful, and always inspiring. Monty is not just a great gardener but an environmentalist and more. He just produced this great book with all his best gardening ideas; it is HIGH on my list. Head over and check it out. It is basically the only thing on my Christmas list right now.
Listening: The rain. I know you may want a podcast or music selection, but I am enjoying the sound of the rain. If it isn’t that, some jazz is always played in the house. Something about moody weather and jazz that gets me.
Wearing: As I mentioned above, I am thankful for my raincoat, which is one part of my parka I mentioned last week, but you can find a link here. I also love these boots from Merry People. They are insulated, comfy, and really a great height above the ankle but not all the way up your calf. I highly suggest them if you need a comfy walking rain boot.
Doing: Visiting the last outdoor Farm Markets, enjoying the misty days, prepping for a trip away this next week to visit family, and celebrating Halloween with our school community.
Thinking about: Sauna season. The cooler weather has me mentally preparing for how to keep my body warm and combat the incoming sicknesses. We have an amazing sauna, and it changed our winter last year. I know it isn’t feasible for everyone, but it is a lovely and fun way to transition and keep your body warm and heated in these transitional days. I did it some this summer, but it isn’t the same as it is in the winter. This is the sauna we have if you are curious.
Cooking: Brussels Sprouts. These guys are ripe and ready, and though they are best after solid snow or frost, they are still good when freshly harvested. Many people aren’t fans, but it is simply because you haven’t made them right, just like any veggie. I love heating up a pan, adding some oil or fat of choice, and then setting them cut side down (cut in half), letting them get really crispy on that side, flipping, salting, and adding a touch of rice wine vinegar. Let them sear a little longer, and then serve them up. You can eat them this way, hot or cool. They are delicious and simple on a cold night.
Paying Attention: To what I feel like after taking some time away from the north in the south this next week. How does it affect my connection to the season? What does it inform? Is it good for me to shift things sometimes? Initially, I wasn’t excited to leave weather-wise. This is my favorite time of year, so it wasn’t my top choice, but I am embracing it, knowing it may nourish something unexpectedly.
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