Autumn is upon us. The seasons changed this morning, and now the weather matches the name. Summer ended with a whimper, cooling off significantly in a matter of days.
With rhythmic changes such as these I always feel there is a chance of a new start of some kind. The slate it cleaned, the pattern of life is renewed. It is only marking the sun over the equator, to be sure, but it seems much more.
However, with the delight of the cooler weather comes a weight, a weight which has a name, and a seeming cause.
I’ll let my mind stew a bit more before I name it here.
It does depress my soul, though to my little credit I attacked my tasks this morning, wrote despite the clawing at my inner being and pressed forward into the dim light ahead.
That really is the call. To keep moving forward, to stand, and when it is all done to still be standing. Our emotions and spirits will waver, that is assumed. To press on anyway is the mark of maturity.
I’m not sure what the rest of my day holds. My thoughts seem to wandering to attempt a quiet time in the hills, more accusing than fruitful.
I shall pray. That it my best course, methinks.