Monet, Autumn on the Seine
Spring was a time of swaggering declarations.
Reaching autumn, one finds few absolutes.
Life is mystery and ambiguity,
Toward winter, that now seems agreeable and comfortable.When young, one makes heroic attempts. The world will surely bend to our will, we think, and we will surely make grand contributions. Social injustice will be righted. The big questions will be answered.
I once went to see a master writer. Long retired, white-haired and fragile, she nevertheless evinced a sharp and discerning mind. I was a novice writer. She had edited hundreds of great authors. I peppered her with all my anxieties and asked her all the questions that my teachers never answered. To most of my questions she would only answer, “Yes.” She knew all the answers, and she knew all the exceptions, and she knew the best thing that an older person could tell a younger person was “Yes.” Yes, the affirmative. Yes, as in keep exploring. Yes, as in there are no ultimate answers.
I used to push for an immediate resolution to daily problems. Now, I am not so anxious. Is science right about things, or is religion? Is there good and evil on a metaphysical level? Is there one god, or are there many gods, or no gods? A hundred answers exist for these questions. They are all known, but no one agrees. Today, I think it all very fine. Let there be a hundred answers with none of them entirely correct. The asking of the question is already enough.
“We cling to our own point of view, as though everything depended on it. Yet our opinions have no permanence; like autumn and winter, they gradually pass away.”
— Chuang Tzu
For man, autumn is a time of harvest, of gathering together. For nature, it is a time of sowing, of scattering abroad. ~Edwin Way Teale
Autumn
Walking outside tonight
Smelling that familiar scent
The one that says, “Autumn”
Thinking of you again,
My old friend.How many Autumns has it been
Since that beautiful night
We climbed the stairway to the stars
Together for the first time?
A soft kiss joined us…Ages and ages ago
You’re long gone from me now
We married other lovers
But that familiar scent of Autumn
Always brings you to mind.— My own Autumn memories….
In San Diego, autumn usually brings a wonderful Indian Summer season that is warm and like a second spring, or even summer if it’s hot enough. I’ve seen 100 degree days in November here. But we do get the lovely cool autumn evenings with their glorious scent that just says so much to me this time of year.
I do think of autumn as a time for sowing as well as harvesting. I am often out planting a fall garden, although this year I think I’ll let things lie fallow for a bit. I may put in a few plants, but the gardening bug just hasn’t been with me this year.
I love the colors of autumn, the deep golds and reds, the light that gives everything sort of a golden glow.
And yes, things are indefinite at this time of my life, as I enter my own personal autumn. There are no ultimate answers, and it is enough to ask the questions. Those who seem too sure of themselves, too sure of their answers and their causes, are the ones who worry me now. The ones who don’t realize that life is full of mystery to explore, full of choices to make and options of different ways of living life to explore, and we will each fulfill them in our own way. Those who want to deny others the privilege of finding their own path by telling them how to live or what to do bother me most of all. They have the right to their own path, of course – but not to direct how others may live.
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