Enjoying the fall
Except for the pretty colours, autumn isn't the easiest of seasons, especially after an endless summer during our worldtrip. The challenge is to make the most of all the rain, storm, cold and short days. We (the Dutch people in general, maybe even) are fairly good at this. When it's pouring, the adage: 'you won't melt, you're not made of sugar' speaks volumes in this season.
To face the darkness in our days, we came up with lots of lightfestivals, my favourite being Saint Martin (Sint Maarten). The best known legend of his life is that he once cut his cloak in half to share with a beggar during a snowstorm, to save the beggar from dying from the cold. So you see, he's not only very kind, but realistic and smart too: if he'd have given his whole cloak, he himself would have jeopardized his health. To celebrate his generosity, children make lanterns (from pumpkins or paper) and go by the houses in the village, bringing the people light and songs and in return get a treat. This is how we warm each other and bring hope and shine our love on one another's souls.
I like how we simply continue our activities here, despite the rough weather: you see people biking, horseback riding, walking their dogs everywhere, ignoring the hail and enjoying nature nonetheless. One day, my love and our boys came to pick me up from my work during lunch and took me to the beautiful national park the Hors and we picnicked in the drizzle as if there wasn't a cloud in the sky.
When running on the beach early in the morning, I enjoy the cold wind cutting straight in my face, the shoreline speckled with white dots: cockles, seagull excrement, foam and small feathers dot the wet beige sand.
When cycling to work, I enjoy the fog, which serves like protection, preventing you from looking too far ahead, forcing you to be in the here, gray herons and sheep appearing gently from it, suddenly becoming visible.
We enjoy the thick yellow carpet of leaves in the forest, and getting fresh air and blushing cheeks, after which we go and cocoon in our warm house for most of the time.
I enjoy this fall from our travel-paradise back on earth, because I know I'll land on my feet, in the place I'm supposed to be, surrounded by what I need. I trust the process and I know that we can do this too. I trust that this autumn and our time here at home bear the seeds of a new spring in them, a new chapter in our book of adventures.
Everything continues to evolve, especially that which we can not observe with our eyes. I believe all exists, even without being perceived. The bud is getting ready to bloom into a flower, the root anticipates growing into a plant, deep inside us new creative ideas and plans for the future simmer, until they're ready to be lived. Very much unlike the philosophical thought experiment 'if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound. (A bit of a delusion of grandeur, right?).
This faith in the ongoing of everything is very reassuring to me: it is not up to me to 'make' the world by seeing, hearing and smelling it; it is always there, waiting for me, an open invitation to come and revel in it all.
So yeah, we got this fall-thing down! Let's see what winter brings.