1 hour ago
Transition . Autumn stimulus is vibrant death. As a child while everyone around me marveled at the magnificence of changing leaves, I observed them quizzically, viewing their vigorous hue as a way to give life their all before demise. I wondered how they could have so much chutzpah at the end. . I still experience Autumn as a confusing time, because I’ve always held onto things and have had trouble letting go. Leaving a lover or friend behind for me is like a burdock burr attached to a wool sweater. Autumn leaves have me face the reality that change is inevitable, letting go is part of life, and that transformation can be beautiful. . I am trying to practice that reality as I move, yet again. Victim self comes out, as my inner child freaks out about doing this life, in a sense, on my own. It seems I’m at an AA meeting all day long, only I instead introduce myself as “Hi I’m Elizabeth, And I’m A Victim 👋🏾”. . People have often gifted me affirmations specifically for being a single womyn who has her shit together. Friends tell me how without their partners, they wouldn’t know how they would have done all they’ve done, and they stand in awe of my accomplishments as a single womyn. And to them I say, “and it’s been a shit show of a ride, let me tell you.” . There’s a beauty to my intricacy. Each day I interact with patterns, with opportunities for transformation, with grace and synchronicity, and with shadow. My greatest wish for this next cycle as I make my home in a new location, on new land and on my own, is that I make it the best experience I possibly can. What does that mean? I heal. I serve. I let God move through me and all around inside me. That’s the gist. . Let the leaves continue their swirl, reminding me the dance is not always as it seems, but beautiful nonetheless.