The Spiritual Lessons Of Autumn

LESSON ONE: BALANCE

On the autumn equinox, day and night are of equal length. We are reminded to take some time to rest and work equally. It’s a season of giving and receiving – planting for the spring and harvesting that which we planted in the past.

It’s a season for reflection. We get the opportunity to reflect on the light and darkness within us. Far too often, we fear the dark and adore only the light. Joyce Rupp, a Catholic writer and poet who is one of our Living Spiritual Teachers, challenges us in Little Pieces of Light to befriend our inner darkness: “I gratefully acknowledge how darkness has become less of an enemy for me and more of a place of silent nurturance, where the slow, steady gestation needed for my soul’s growth can occur. Not only is light a welcomed part of my life, but I am also developing a greater understanding of how much I need to befriend my inner darkness.” Stop running from the darkness. As my dear friend, Akousa said, “There’s value in the valley.” During a dark night of her soul, she spent several weeks with herself and entered the core of herself and found more of God. Get your calendar and plan in some time to nurture yourself. Spend some time praying, meditating, reading, resting, writing, journaling and just contemplating the beauty of fall.

LESSON TWO: ACCEPTANCE

Every moment is a “divine set up” created by our souls. These experiences are not meant to punish or hurt us in any way. It’s the ego that perceives it in that way and that is the root of our pain. I am practicing the art of remembering that “all things, always work together for my good, in all ways.” Some days I am more successful than others. Divine set ups are intended, purposeful events choreographed by our soul to wake us up. With this understanding we can practice acceptance. Accept that everything changes, just like summer changes into fall and fall into winter. Autumn reminds us of the impermanence of everything. We have experienced the budding of life in spring and the flowerings and profusions of summer. Now the leaves fall and bare branches remind us of the fleeting nature of all things.

Accept that just where you are right now, is where you are suppose to be. Accept that you are in this classroom called life and your soul signs you up for curriculums that perhaps your conscious mind isn’t always in tune with.

LESSON THREE: LETTING GO

As we watch leaves twirling and whirling to the ground in the fall, we are reminded that nature’s cycles are mirrored in our lives. Autumn is a time for letting go and releasing things that no longer serve us. Some times when we don’t let go voluntarily, we receive assistance in letting go that doesn’t feel comfortable or necessarily good.

All the religious traditions pay tribute to such acts of relinquishment. Fall is the right time to practice getting out of the way and letting Spirit take charge of our lives.

In Kinds of Power James Hillman, the elder statesman of contemporary depth psychology, challenges us to learn from others about this: “For what the actor tries to achieve on stage is to ‘get out of the way’ so that the character he or she is portraying can come fully out. So, too, the writer and the painter; they have to get out of the way of the flow of the work onto the paper and the canvas.”

We must let go of the good in order to make room for the better.

A piece written by T.D. Jakes has circulated for the past three years. It says, “When people walk away from you, let them walk. I don’t want you to try to talk another person into staying with you, loving you, calling you or caring for you. I mean hang up the phone. When people can walk away from you let them walk.”

Your destiny is never tied to anybody that left.” He continues, “It doesn’t mean that they are a bad person; it means that their part in the story is over. Accept the gift of “good-bye.”

This has been my most difficult lesson. Letting go feels like death. Living in the void can feel like being in an ocean all alone. The fear of letting go has stood in the way of the life that the Creator has designed for me. I was too invested in what I wanted, not realizing that the Creator’s design and plan is greater, more glorious and magnificent than anything I could ever dream of.

Now I sit in the stillness with a surrendered heart and mind waiting for my instruction and doing nothing until I get instruction. Letting go requires practice. Practice letting go this season. Practice trusting the process. While you are in the void, spend time visioning. Visioning is a little different than visualizing. Sit in silence often and ask the Creator to show you what to do. Listen for intuitive leadings and then follow those leadings. Write down your dreams and your insights daily. Spirit does respond. Often we miss the cues because ego has us so busy judging, resisting what is and fearing what might be. Enough already.

LESSON FOUR: CELEBRATE EVERY MOMENT OF THE DAY

My dear sister and friend, Cecelia, had a “Celebrate Life” party a couple of years ago. It was a wonderful party. She had signs everywhere that said, “Dance like nobody’s looking, love like you’ve never been hurt and work like you don’t need the money.” She ascended on May 19, 2007 and the title of her eulogy was, “Live, Love and Laugh.” We celebrated each day. We lived very deliberately.

We traveled, we treated ourselves to most of the things we desired and we laughed a lot. As Jack Boland said in one of his final messages, “If not now, when?”
The poet Wallace Stevens once wrote, “Death is the mother of beauty.” What those words say to me is that we cherish the beauty of a sunrise, an orchard of apples, a relationship and a child’s hug, because those things will not be around forever and neither will we be around to enjoy them.”

Fall also brings home to our consciousness death and the challenge to live every day to the fullest. Susan Jeffers in Embracing Uncertainty gives us a spiritual practice to facilitate this twofold movement:

“I was once told that certain spiritual masters in Tibet used to set their teacups upside down before they went to bed each night as a reminder that all life was impermanent. And then, when they awoke each morning, they turned their teacups right side up again with the happy thought, ‘I’m still here!’ This simple gesture was a wonderful reminder to celebrate every moment of the day.”