Autumn & existentialism - part 1
Morning dog walk, mid October, Autumn is nearing peak prettiness. The sun rises confidently in the cold blue sky and makes ochre shadows through the trees, spotlighting the classic seasonal palette that’s displayed on the leafy carpet. I notice the progress from freshly fallen leaf, crisp and bright, to faded form and finally to decomposed remains, laid out as if in a time lapse. I’m flooded with the exquisite beauty of the season, nature’s infinite dance of creation, growth and decay of which we are all a part. Nature is my church and this is a moment of worship.
"Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love—that makes life and nature harmonize." – George Elliot
Autumn is known for it’s sweet sadness, an atmospheric, almost romantic, melancholy. For some it’s the beginning of seasonal depression, a debilitating low mood and lack of energy that persists until the Spring. It’s not difficult to see why Autumn can bring a sense of sadness, even if you love much about the season as I do, the trees becoming bare and the flowers dying back are visual reminders of loss and endings.
Interestingly, I’ve had an increase in clients sharing their fears of death lately. This existential anxiety is part of the human condition, something we all grapple with at some point. It’s natural, wise even, to fear death to some extent. But a fixation or intense anxiety about death can really get in the way of living, which ironically is often what this fear is all about.
The idea of life ending is especially anxiety inducing when we don’t feel like we’ve had enough of it, or that we’re somehow not living in the ‘right’ way. Conversely, those who are more at peace with the knowledge that they will one day die tend to be those who are content with their lives, they have a sense of having made the most of it and cherished who and what was important to them.
My mindful morning walk, being awed by the colours and beauty of nature, was a moment of connection and contentment that reminded me of something essential about myself and life that is hard to put into words, a feeling of rightness, of being where I’m supposed to be in life and immensely grateful for it all. I looked up a Mary Oliver quote I could half remember and found that it was part of the poem shared below; “all my life I have been a bride married to amazement” – it’s this amazement that is a life force within me, one I tap into when connecting to nature and imbues my life with meaning. I hope I live a very long and happy life. I intend for these thoughts of loss and decay to inspire – in myself and you, dear reader – a dedication to this marriage to amazement; a renewal of vows to live life fully and authentically.
"I hope I can be the autumn leaf, who looked at the sky and lived. And when it was time to leave, gracefully it knew life was a gift." – Dodinsky
When Death Comes by Mary Oliver
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
Reflection:
How does Autumn make you feel?
What makes you feel alive and amazed? Are you getting enough of that?
