Seasons
Eight years ago today, my kid brother left this world in glorious fashion. Since that day, I have been aware of our times, our seasons. So, on the anniversary of Rick's final season, here are my thoughts on Seasons.
Sunrise, sunset, through summer, fall, winter, and spring.
There is a constant in the change. The day will come as will the night, and the seasons will change by design. There is structure for the movement, but the movement itself can be beautifully unstructured. Life in seasons, changing but fixed.
The older I get, the more I come to respect the work of seasons, all of them. I welcome the spring of birth and growth, vision and creativity. I bask in the full glow of summer sun, the flourishing, the brilliant living and thriving. I walk into the uncomfortable fall, the change in color, in scenery, in friendships and positions. I submit to the bleak winter of death, of silence and bitter cold, the hibernation of sorts.
Rinse. Repeat.
There is nothing new under the sun, and yet everything is being made new every moment. The new from the familiar. The restored from the old. I think this is why I love browsing through antique shops. There's nothing new along the aisles, nothing without a story on the shelves. But everything has newness in it. Everything has another season to behold. Summer, fall, winter, spring.
Rinse. Repeat.
We are the new and the old, eternal spirit and creative oxygen encased in flesh and sinew and bone and blood. We are fixed for seasons and change. So we walk into the sun, we spin around in the breeze, we build snow men in the dead of winter, and we feel the heartbeats of anticipation when the first bud fights through to life. Then we do it again, for we must.
Solomon got some of it wrong. It isn't meaningless, none of it. Even the meaningless is meaningful. Seasons make us aware of the meaning in everything. Seasons revive the hope that's been on breath support. Seasons place the glasses back on Vision's head. Seasons move us to engage in life, to refuse existence for existence's sake.
Flourish, break, die, birth.
Rinse. Repeat.
TALK TO ME...
What season are you in?
What patterns can you see in your life?
Have You seen meaning in the seasons?