Autumn and maturity

It’s no coincidence that autumn and authenticity are linguistic cousins. Both share the Latin root aut-, meaning [to increase or grow.] Autumn brings the harvest bounty: the earth’s increase. Authenticity brings the reward of increased self-knowledge and awareness, of a life augmented (another word cousin!) through integrity. As autumn represents the ripening of the crops, so authenticity represents the coming into maturity of our characters. The link is gratitude, which allows us to ground ourselves in humility and recognize our authentic nature. When we live gratefully, we become more truly ourselves.

Alan Jones et al., Seasons of Grace: The Life-Giving Practice of Gratitude.

Autumn Dawns

The ancient rhythms of the earth have insinuated themselves into the rhythms of the human heart. The earth is not outside us; it is within: the clay from where the tree of the body grows. When we emerge from our offices, rooms and houses, we enter our natural element. We are children of the earth: people to whom the outdoors is home. Nothing can separate us from the vigor and vibrancy of this inheritance. In contract to our frenetic, saturated lives, the earth offers a calming stillness. Movement and growth in nature takes its time. The patience of nature enjoys the ease of trust and hope. There is something in our clay nature that needs to continually experience this ancient, outer ease of the world. It helps us remember who we are and why we are here.

John O’Donohue

Learning to surf

As human beings we have a tendency to scramble for certainty whenever we realize that everything around us is in flux. In difficult times the stress of trying to find solid ground – something predictable and safe to stand on – seems to intensify. But in truth the very nature of our existence is forever in flux. Everything keeps changing, whether we are aware of it or not. So this is where we find ourselves, right in the middle of a dilemma. And it leaves us with some provocative questions: How can we live wholeheartedly in the face of impermanence…? What is it like to realize that we can never completely and finally get it all together? Is it possible to increase our tolerance for instability and change?

Pema Chodron, Living Beautifully with Uncertainty and Change

Getting comfortable with uncertainty

 

Living is a form of not being sure, not knowing what next or how. The moment you know how, you begin to die a little. The artist never entirely knows, We guess. We may be wrong, but we take leap after leap in the dark.

Agnes George de Mille, American dancer and Choreographer.

…and taking the first step.

Start with the ground you know,
the pale ground beneath your feet,
your own way of starting
the conversation.

Start with your own question,
give up on other people’s questions,
don’t let them
smother something simple.

To find another’s voice,
follow your own voice,
wait until that voice
becomes a  private ear
listening to another.

Start right now,  take a small step
you can call your own
don’t follow
someone else’s heroics, be humble
and focused,
start close in, don’t mistake
that other
for your own.

Start close in,
don’t take the second step
or the third,
start with the first thing
close in, the step
you don’t want to take.

David Whyte, Start Close in

Sunday Quote: Letting go of our stories…

[Penguin]

When we become fixed in our perceptions,

we lose our ability to fly

Yongey Mingpur Rinpoche