Yes, I do see the brownish leaves. It smells like autumn outside. Breath, love!
Yes, I do start to get nervous knowing that the summer is almost over, that the Sun is running away from my sky, leaving behind a cold wind (you must know how much warmth I need to be OK). And, on top of all, these first days of September find me still confused by that Super Moon, and having plenty of things to do. I grabbed that red leaf. I whined. I cried. You too?
Yes, the autumn is coming. And what if we stopped for a couple of minutes to talk? That yellow-leaves incense, reflected in the shade of the sky, makes us nostalgic. I almost hear myself saying “Ough, summer is over. Bye, sea, bye, sun, bye summer dresses and sandals. Bye, bare foot. Till next summer!” I have, then, two choices: I either pack up my knapsack and I move to countries with sun, with sea, with sailing boats (maybe I’d meet Sof and Oliver), or talk to you for a little longer.
Yes, I choose to talk to you. Because I have realised that autumn is my moment of simplicity, that flash of wit when I want to make my own summary and look back with curiosity. This autumn, I have decided to go back to my own self, to what I am. Here and now. To ask myself where I want to be next autumn. I have decided to be quiet, to listen, to mind myself. Maybe I will let the unnecessary luggages to slowly drop off , just as you watch on your window that golden leave falling. Sluggishly, free from any resistance, free from any regrets. Because it knows its time has passed. Because it had its beautiful summer.
Yes, this autumn I have decided to sit down, next to my inner child. To listen to her tears, to kiss away her wounds, to take her in my arms telling that “It was fine. I am here”. To let go of fears, of anger. To let God. To share the roots of courage and love. To dance together, to sing out loud, to do yoga, to breath together. Wise heart, next to the child heart.
Yes, this autumn I have decided to love. Harmoniously, beautifully. And I can’t wait to take the soulful dresses out of the closet and jump into those boots, waiting for the rain. Because I know I am carrying the summer with me. In me. Always.
I have to go. My yoga matt is waiting for me.
And you, dear reader, how does this autumn find you?