tan lines

My feet have sandal tan lines that are fading, I notice them while in the bath.

There's something about the end of summer that gently revels a sadness in me. It’s hard to explain as I have a fondness for seasons. Autumn in her richness and transformation, of blue skies and red leaves, the surprise of jewel like berries in the hedgerow and hot summer like days. Winter brings such wonderful colour, hazes and chill air, breath becoming seeable. It takes us to our bare bones and this is reflected in the skeleton trees, their individual branches silhouetted, showing themselves. 

So why melancholy, a feeling of having missed out, of being passed by?

There is hope in spring and summer as we turn towards the light, a fullness and freshness in nature. Summer flowing into autumn foretells of a turning inward, of reflection and tallying, discarding the old map and rewriting anew, setting goals and intention. Is this what dulls me?

Could it be the back to school feeling that anyone who has experienced bullying recalls, in our cells as bodies register changing light levels. Years may have passed but that eleven year old is still here, still anxious.

Does any of this matter? The feelings are here and need to be felt. One thing I’ve learned is that we must allow our feelings, this is how we work through. Its all about layers. 

As this world turns I question myself, am I moving forward? I’ve been feeling stuck, that my efforts haven’t got me so far, that I’m up against the same old same old. I’m finding it a challenge to keep up my mantra that all will be well, to trust, to allow. I’m tired.