As the leaves fall to the ground and droves of birds begin their migration, I sit and wonder why letting go is so difficult for me when it comes so easily to mother nature? Maybe because she has learned that attachment has not served her; she knows that in order to flow and to grow, she must let go.
When I step outside, the air is crisp, requiring me to layer my clothing, something I have never seemed to master. Years of living along the equator, in crop tops and shorts, have made me even more averse to the seasonal changes.
I breathe in and I breathe out. Releasing my breath, remembering that I cannot hold on to grief forever. It is when I get outside and feel the sunshine on the surface of my skin that I smile again. The trails get dustier and the creeks run dry as California's drought lingers, but the sunlight still flutters between the branches of the trees, dancing across my face. I pray for rain.
I take off my shoes and with my bare feet and hands on the earth, l offer gratitude - for letting me exist here, safely. A privilege many do not have. Finally I ask myself to let go... Just like the leaves drop from the trees, so may my pain drop from my body. As daylight shortens, nature beckons me to go inward. Calling me to rest as I settle into the transitional phase between the light and the dark. Reminding me that in order to re-align myself I must let it go and let it flow.