Each year, I am equally surprised when autumn bursts into full view. There is no ignoring it. The leaves morph and change before our eyes, moving away from their emboldened green color to the bright yellows or reds that change the landscape around us and demand we stop and pay attention. The feel of the air turns colder in the mornings and evenings at first, but before long, the chill in the air calls us into our homes. We long for warmth and comfort. The darkness settles in earlier in the evenings and stays later through the early mornings, urging us to sleep a bit longer. The schedule we followed just a few months ago, amidst the peak of summer seems harder. Our energy may lessen.
Nature seems to be urging us to change with the seasons. The leaves of the tree outside our back window—the ones that have shielded the trunk and branches from the searing sun of hot summer are being let go. They fall delicately, almost in slow motion. The tree that was once so lush and full becomes stark and bare. It is all about the essentials and rooting back down in preparation for the survival of winter.
And are we not the same? Sometimes, I think culturally we are expected to dwell in the season of summer for months on end, all year long, for the duration of our lives. The message is that we must be productive at all times. Faster is better. More is the objective. Our worth is tied to our yield. The days are packed tight with activities and all manner of extroversion. But what if this is simply not how we are designed to function best? What if we were to choose to live mindfully in tune with the seasons and take a cue from all that surrounds us?
I have been giving a great deal of thought to the idea that I might have some leaves that I could let go in the efforts to slow down a bit, live more deeply, and fortify myself. As it turns out, I am not so different from the trees! I am looking at the way I choose to spend my time, what habits and beliefs have crept their way into my being, and whether my life truly reflects what I feel I need to be happy in this moment.
And so it is that this autumn, I will be looking to turn inward. To embrace the warmth of hearth and home. To awaken each morning with a hot beverage. And to pause and take in all the glory of fall.
I will also try to let go of a few things that aren’t really serving me. A few of the leaves that I want to let go of are:
- The guilt that often accompanies the time I take for myself amidst the day or in other words, the belief that my worth is tied to my busyness or productivity. That is the first leaf to go!
- The belief that DO-ing is superior to BE-ing. I am letting go of daily leaves that reinforce the manic nature of some days. If I can do without that errand or consolidate trips to the store, I am doing it. I am willing to embrace having less so that I can live fully more. I want to slow down and connect more deeply.
- I will continue to fortify my roots in ways that I find grounding. Meditating, hiking in the mountains, reading good books, and making room for creativity are a few of my staples.
Family activity or fall ritual idea:
- Gather some colorful leaves together. Pick two or three leaves for each person involved. Heat your iron on the lowest setting. Sandwich each leaf between two sheets of wax paper. Cut around the leaf with a two-inch border or so. Label each leaf with something each person would like to let go or add as a fortifier. A permanent marker might work best. Talk about the importance of letting go beliefs that limit or hurt us in some way. Chat about how fortifiers can be grounding amidst times of change. Hang them in a window so that the sun can shine through them!!
- Or build a fire or sit by candlelight. Gather sheets of paper (shaped like leaves if you are super crafty but plain will also be fine!). Have each person write down two or three things they want to let go of or fortify. Burn all of the let go papers as you talk about the importance of both letting go and fortifying ourselves.
I would love to hear how you experience Autumn. What are some leaves in your life that you would love to let go?
My friend Melissa and I would jog occasionally early in the morning. Although she had several marathons under her belt and loved running fast, she never complained about going at my pace. She would always comment on the clarity of mind that running gave her. She was a missionary for the church of running, and she was patiently working to convert me. She finally convinced me to register with her for the 2012 New York Marathon Lottery. She was going to hold my hand through the training process, and if we didn’t get picked for the lottery she was going to help me with the fundraising process to run for a charity. I snapped this picture of my shoes on a cold, snowy January in Connecticut and started to plan when my official training for the November race would begin. I was going to need 16 weeks to prepare and we would start in earnest July 1st.
Things didn’t really go according to plan. We didn’t get picked for the lottery. Melissa and her family moved in June to Wilmington, NC. And on July 1st, instead of starting my training I was house hunting in Dallas, TX. Moving is a whirlwind. It’s a transition in every aspect of your life — schools, work, friends, church, community, and comfort. I was fully occupied in getting through the transition and my marathon plans felt long gone.
I called Melissa in late September, we hadn’t been in touch all summer with both of our moves. I asked what she was up to and she replied that in just 3 weeks she was going to be doing the PPD Beach to Battleship Half Ironman. I heard all about her hours a day training. Swimming, biking, running, learning to change flat tires on a bike, and more. She was alive with intensity and passion and so excited. Her husband was also participating in the race as part of a team and she spoke of how this common goal was uniting them as a couple and family. I was so in awe of her at that moment. She was energized and I was . . . not exactly energized.
We got off the phone, and I determined to do something that very moment. I looked up couch to half marathon training schedules — 10 weeks long. I looked up half marathon races and found that if I started training the very next day, the Dallas half marathon was exactly 10 weeks away. I registered myself and registered my husband (and then called and told him). I printed out training schedules and went after this goal with fierce determination. Finding time for both of us to run with 5 children (ages 2, 6, 8, 10 & 12) was challenging. Sports schedules and music lessons conspired against us, but week after week we figured out a way to make it happen.
As our longer Saturday runs began, Trent and I would track each other on find my iPhone and deliver water and energy packets every 3-4 miles. For both of us to do a 10 mile run was a 5 hour committment — first to be the runner and then to be runner’s support team. Neither of us had run further than a 5K before we did this and these first long runs were very challenging. I’d never before been so excited to see our minivan and know that inside was my husband, with a cold energy drink and a go-go squeeze waiting for me just ahead. We were brought together as a couple as we worked hard to reach these daily and weekly goals.
Before the race, I talked to Melissa again and asked her for advice. She knew Trent and I would both be running and she said, “fight the urge to stay together. Be free to run your own race. Running is just as much a mental game as it is a physical game and if you feel you are being pushed or pulled by the other it can really mess with you. You’ve worked so hard; Set out to do your best. At the end, you will know the race represents your highest effort.”
Race Sunday arrived and we chatted nervously waiting for the start. We had left the kids at home with my sister who was taking them to church. This day was just for us. It was the pinnacle of our training. Once the race started, we quickly lost sight of each other. I ran my best. Trent ran his best. As I crossed the finish line and started walking through the gates I was overwhelmed with the deepest respect and love for every competitor out there. Each finisher was hugging and crying with somebody. We all had a new profound respect for everyone there knowing the time and hard work every person had put in to be at this place. Trent and I quickly found each other. It was an emotional reunion. We had each run our best, and we were so proud of eachother. We grabbed some food, enjoyed the festivities, and finally made our way back to the car. Trent turned to me and said, “this is one of the most spiritual and emotional days I have ever had.” I agreed. There was such a feeling of unity, camaraderie, respect, and love that I too had never before experienced. It was for us, one of our best days.
Transitions can leave you feeling uprooted and directionless. Goals can provide direction and strategy. Pick a race. The distance and the speed are not important. Work on it little by little. Cross your own personal finish line and feel empowered to do more and be more.
A presentation entitled “What I’ve Learned after 15 Years of Mormon Transitioning” delivered by Dr. John Dehlin at Utah Valley University on August 18, 2015. Sponsored by the Utah Valley PostMormons.
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Healing and Growth after an LDS Crisis of Faith: Weekend Retreat
with John Dehlin, Ph.D.
- Who: Progressive, Inactive, and Post-Mormons. Couples and individuals welcome.
- When: October 23-25, 2015 (Starts at 7pm on 10/23, ends at 4:30pm on 10/25)
- Where: Park City, UT
- Purposes of Retreat
- Tips on healing and thriving after a loss of LDS faith. Major topics include:
- Rebuilding identity, morality, mental health, meaning, and purpose after losing faith.
- Healthy communications with believing family and friends after losing faith.
- Strengthening marriages after losing faith.
Raising children after losing faith.- Rebuilding friendships and community after losing faith.
- Finding joy, meaning, and fulfillment after losing faith.
- Building relationships and community with others like you.
- Tips on healing and thriving after a loss of LDS faith. Major topics include:
- Cost:
- Registration Fee: $350/person. Donation does not cover meals/lodging. All proceeds go to support Mormon Transitions.
- While we have extended scholarships to several who have applied, all scholarship positions have now been filled. Please check back for more events in the future. We will do all we can to continue supporting those in need.
To register, email: mormontransitions@gmail.com