Changing season

Grass tips turn yellow. There is a chill in the air. And just as the garden begins to thrive again, recovering and beating the mold that grew with the summer’s rains, I worry about a frost.

I have developed a cold, and I move through my day with sinus pressure on my top jaw and achy, achy muscles. I contemplate whether my body is reacting to the change of season.

Is it human arrogance that causes us to assume that grass would turn yellow and leaves would become shades of color and we, humans in control of our lives, would simply go on, maintaining the status quo, feeling well or ill as usual?

With an amazingly challenging semester that began after Labor Day, I have held myself in a smooth line these past two weeks, moving through a to-do list, reminding myself that if I am going to keep up, I simply need to keep going.

Tonight, after a hot bath with eucalyptus oil, soothing harp music playing in the background and tracing Reiki healing symbols in the air, I realize that no matter how full or busy my days might be, I want to feel the phenomenon of the changing of the seasons and the blessings of a late-summer cold. It reminds me, in my forgetfulness, that I am part of an enfolding universe.