The leaves
are gone. How did that happen? One day the world was ablaze with red
and gold and then it all blew away taking the sunlight and the last
kiss of summer with it. At first gray days unnerve me. I want to light
candles, build a fire, brew coffee and snuggle up with a book. My life,
however, expects more of me than that.
Still, there is a haunting quality to these days of transition –
the deep, pensive days between the extravagance of autumn and the crisp,
scintillating cold of winter. Birds flock in great dark clouds swooping
and swirling with inspiring grace, alighting in a nervous flutter then
skittering off again across the skies.
I went to the beach this morning. I don’t do that often enough
– take a few minutes to welcome in the morning before heading
off to work. The sky was dark and leaden but a narrow band of brilliant
coral rose up out of the ocean shimmering over the waves. Light the
color of tropical flowers skimmed the waves and the sun – huge,
violently red and too beautiful for such a dreary day – rose and
took a bow and then disappeared behind the gray. It only took a minute.
I always wonder - when I come out to watch the sun rise – why
the beach isn’t standing room only every morning.
So, in minutes, the blaze of beauty was gone and I was off to work.
Beauty is integral to being. Beauty is sustenance to the soul. I need
to remember to start my day that way more often.
These dreary days hold a lesson, I think. The flower-scented days of
summer and the sun-drenched days of early autumn are easy to fall in
love with but the gray days remind us that it is up to us to put forth
a little effort, to live with the intention of finding beauty and joy.
Living with intention takes effort, practice and commitment. But then,
of course, what worth having does not? Sometimes I think we act like
life’s gifts are some sort of happy accident. Like falling in
love. I’ve thought about that a lot – we say “falling
in love” like it is a happenstance having more to do with laws
of physics than personal involvement. We excuse ridiculous behavior
by saying “I couldn’t help it, I fell in love and didn’t
know what to do.” Or we complain “why can’t I just
meet someone and fall in love?” As though, once toppled by that
force, we are discharged of any further responsibilities and immune
to future problems.
Is it our culture of victimization that has created this way of thinking?
I wonder. Maybe it is that we have not been bred to see ourselves as
the authors of our days. We vacillate between intense and superficial
flurries of activity and deep sulks bemoaning the unfairness of it all.
Maybe it is because we haven’t learned the secret gifts of gray
and dreary days. We are like the man who complains about his leaking
roof on rainy days and does not give a second thought to the holes on
sunny days.
Sociologists refer to us as a culture of addicts – addicted to
substances, consumption, entertainment and activity – anything
to keep us occupied and distracted. Gray days can be escaped in malls
and quick trips to sunny resorts. But gray days hold the secret keys
to our deeper selves. It is only in the mute stillness of a gray day
that we can meet our selves and learn if who we are is someone we can
enjoy spending such a day with. A frightening prospect at times.
Living with intention requires skill and discernment. We gain knowledge
of the selves we have long neglected. We take pleasure in finding new
fascinations, uncovering previously unexplored passions. We find ourselves
looking forward to time alone when we can allow ourselves the luxury
of following a thought to its very end and savoring the intense satisfaction
of knowing what opens us to bliss.
Thomas Merton says, “Love is an intensification of life.”
Living life in full awareness of our days, committing ourselves to intensifying
our awareness of our own passions is a process that leads us in to a
loving relationship with our deep selves. I think about this on these
first gray days for they remind me what a gift is waiting for me. Choosing
intention is choosing love – not falling haphazardly into a tenuous
condition which leaves us feeling confused and fearful of its loss.
We learn to love and appreciate the one person we will be guaranteed
of having a relationship with for the rest of our lives.
Learning to savor the exquisite mystery of gray days gives us the gift
of self-knowledge, self-appreciation and a passion for life that lets
us blossom in love.
