Letting go

I have spoken before about the beauty of letting go. I am mesmerized by the fall. We marvel at the leaves and the bright colors they turn before they fall to the ground. They serve us all summer with shade, protection, cool. And then when they are so tired, they fire up before they fade away.

It amazes me we don’t do this with humans…watch intently as they fade away into whatever takes us on. The miracle of life is as much at the end as it is at the beginning of life. We just don’t celebrate it. Everyone I have known that’s close to me that has passed away has always gifted me with something more magical than I was prepared for at the time. I just didn’t know what I was seeing in that moment.

Is that the problem? We don’t recognize what we see when we see it. Or do we need space from the beauty of it all so it can sink in?

This photo sat on my phone for a few months. It stopped me in my tracks today. I think because I didn’t think much of it at the time. I just discarded it as one of those things I see that I love…like the one zillion photos I have of the beach at sunset. It’s just another sunset. Just another beach. Just another leaf from a tree.

But really it isn’t. It’s all powerful. It all has tiny meaning as we shape ourselves into who we are. This leaf meant something to me at the time. And today, its message leaned in for a powerful whisper - like the warm whisper of a sweet lover - saying to me gently, again, that it’s okay to let go.

Beauty in letting go.

There is beauty in the letting go. Fall tells us so every year. But we deny it over and over again.

Just sit back and observe in nature. The seeds are here for our tomorrow just waiting to sprout forth innocent fresh ideas for us all to bear witness to.

First the rain...

I shot a wedding this weekend. It was on a boat that puttered slowly and gently around the lowcountry waters, shifting ever so gently back and forth with the sway of the boat and the shifting tide.

The skies were clear when we started our day - even with some hot sun piercing down on us. And then suddenly, the rain came in. It was a steady rain with no signs of letting up at all. Grey skies all around and a constant, gentle drizzle as we coasted the waterways.

Then as suddenly as the rain came, the clouds began to part just in time for us to see this remarkable sunset, color-filled and awe inspiring. I hustled the bride and groom to the back of the boat where I could get a good photo of them. It was all she wanted - a beautiful sunset photos of her and her husband, ready to start their lives together.

As I was snapping away at the photos, I heard one of her friends holler to them over my shoulder. "First the rain, then the sun..." It stopped my in my tracks. 

Of course.

Of course the rain has to come first. Of course you have to weather the storm first to appreciate the sunshine and the sunset. The thunder is there to shake us and move us. The water is there to nourish and refresh us. And then...the sunshine. To help us grow and bloom.

I have been here. Standing on stormy ground. Always hoping to find a way out. Maybe you are there now. Maybe you are stuck in a storm.  Just know in your heart that the sun will shine soon. It has to. There is no room for only rain. We need both to survive. So settle in and cover up, because this, too, shall pass.

The tides of change

A Full moon high tide at Shem Creek. Taken with my iPhone 6.

There are things I know for certain.

One of the things I know is that change will come, regardless of whether I want it to or not. And no matter how predictable that change, it still can catch me a little off guard. I know the seasons change, but when that happens is never determined perfectly on a calendar or clock. I know, too, that the tides will come and go, but the size of those tides is sometimes a little unpredictable and leaves behind flood waters so deep, I am not quite sure how to navigate them.

I find the best way to get through change - whether wanted or not - is be fluid. Change always seems to happen on its own terms. When I am anticipating it and wishing for it, it takes it's time getting to me. And when I begrudge it, it seems to happen more swiftly than I would have hoped for, ignorant to my pleas of mercy.

I find that the more I fight change, the less energy I have for the important things - like puzzles and beach walks and sunset chats. So now when change comes my way, I just try take a deep breath and close my eyes and remember - This, too, shall pass.

I have been here before...standing in these flood waters. So now, when the change comes again, I will be more prepared to breathe into those heavy currents.