To Fall, a Prost.

I love fall.  It’s the only season that literally makes me cry.  Yep, I cry.  It doesn’t happen too often, but it’s genuine when it does.

Fall is the only season that makes me stop.  And once I stop, I realize that I’m fortunate enough to have a life filled with too many happy moments to count.  The season’s atmosphere and all its different nuances are metaphorical for change and new chapters.  One can’t help but accept the fact that life is moving forward, and at times moving so fast we forget to reflect and be appreciative.  Don’t worry; this isn’t a pre-thanksgiving be happy for everything blog entry.  But rather, a blog entry about my appreciation for those moments that make you pause in awe.

I don’t think it’s a secret that I try to “burn the candle at both ends” when it comes to how I live life.  From seeing my parents’ worried faces after I party three nights in a row, to being up at 6 am to finish my to-do list at a decent hour.  I’ve learned that you can’t have everything if you don’t approach both scenarios enthusiastically.  Even though you don’t always get everything, at least you went down trying.

There are lots of people who live this way, and we all have an appreciation for the other one who pulls it off.  The approach makes memories great because you know you gave your all.  And in doing so you don’t have to worry about having regrets.  This makes going back over those memories, or looking back at the photos documenting everything, painful.  Happiness and emptiness hit at the same time, making my stomach twist and pulling a tear.  I can’t believe it’s already gone, and gone so quickly.

Eventually the upset stomach subsides.  Life charges forward and you take on the next challenge.  But it’s a beautiful thing that those experiences are powerful enough that they’ll affect you forever.  It’s a sign that you’ve lived.

Fall has this affect on me.  It’s the slower season when I can almost catch up with life.  The crave for comfort food, family time during the holiday season, and the mix of the colors with drastic changes in weather all pull a warm feeling.  Then, when all this comes at once I randomly break down in tears.  (It’s almost as beautiful as a plastic bag floating around in front of a brick wall…oh wait.)

I believe Kerouac was on a similar train of thought in On the Road when he writes,

“What is that feeling when you’re driving away from the people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing?–it’s the too-huge world vaulting us, and it’s good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.”

For me, in that situation, that feeling is usually the turning stomach that I described above – sad to be leaving people behind, nervous to not know what’s coming up, looking forward to the next chapter that is inevitable.

Here’s to fall, which is now if full force, a prost.  May your tears be joyful ones as well.

~ JDR ~