Every August feels the same. The evenings become cooler, the cicadas get louder and I find myself desiring to squeeze every last drop out of summer. Is it possible to cram in the boating, picnicking and lake swimming that I had imagined I would be doing all summer? Somehow, I never got to any of these things! My to-do list did not get done either. Another summer almost gone and my desk is still a mess, I did not make a single photo album and the pile of old camping gear in my laundry room seems to be growing. These essential organizational tasks were supposed to be well underway by August! So now I am spending the month feeling regretful for the things that I should have done and I’m feeling the all-too-familiar annual sense of unease.As I reflect on these feelings, for the first time, I can see that it is about more than meets the eye. It isn’t really about swimming or cleaning at all. The feelings are quite complicated because I am struggling with dealing with transition and change. It is the start of a new school year and I have been beholden to the school calendar for as long as I can remember. With two school-aged children, I strongly experience a sense of new beginnings in September. My soul feels the challenges that lie ahead and understands that I must let go of what felt so important to me previously. Last year, I was building a new practice, preparing my son for high school, and trying to find the balance between civic engagement and sanity. As I reflect on the year ahead, I know that I must prepare my daughter for adulthood, connect with my husband and help him to prepare for empty nesting, and take new risks to broaden my reach in my work. In short, it is a lot of change!
The thirteenth century poet Rumi stated so simply, “life is a balance between holding on and letting go.” During times of transition and change we can find ourselves clinging too tightly. We grasp at ways of doing things that no longer work well for us, such as worrying about the things we haven’t accomplished. We grasp at old beliefs that we know don’t speak to the truth of who we really are, such as believing that we can feel in control if we just tackle our junk drawer. We grasp at the last days of summer and sometimes lose the joy and beauty that is right in front of us for the taking. As I already stated, transitions can be tough.
As the days shorten and we wear an extra layer at night, we can notice how we are bound together in the ways in which we experience the shifts and changes with the seasons and our collective sense of the new year. I hope that this knowledge creates more space in each of us to be kind to ourselves when we notice our “should” thoughts, our complicated feelings and our general sense of unease. We can imperfectly practice accepting change and transition and talk with our families and friends about our discomfort during transitional times. And finally, as we adjust to September, hopefully we can reflect on and enjoy all of the new gains that we have made in the last year.