If you live in a part of the world where,
looking out your window right now,
you see leaves in radiant shades
of crimson and saffron,
then, by any means necessary,
get yourself outside.
Look how sunlight or the muted tones of grey
make each leaf glow as they hold fast
or twist in the wind,
drifting and sailing on updrafts
as they make their way to ground.
Let these colors permeate your being.
The tang of dry leaves fill your senses.
Stand silent or shuffle your way through
leaves still bright in their falling.
And let these things teach you…again…
the beauty of a moment.
This is precious time.
And brief in its passing.
Let the colors and the swirling leaves
be your wisdom and your answer
for the part of your being that quakes at change.
For the part of you that looks longingly
at the well-lit, carefully decorated path called avoidance.
Its signposts speak of not getting your hopes up,
of anticipating loss—
as if that somehow will diminish the passing.
No, the antidote for resisting change or loss
is to live fully and Wildly in the moments.
To experience joy in all its forms:
the beauty, the mess, the beginnings, the endings.
Wild joy embraces, rather than braces against.
And in that embrace lies the ability to stop,
to feel — rather than just look at —
the colors as the leaves change and fall.
To learn from all that is beautiful,
all that is fleeting, all that is Yes.
