Re-entry has been more difficult than first supposed. Like newly purchased bed sheets fresh out of the package, then shaken, washed, and used, my life cannot get folded tightly enough to return to its original envelope. With those new sheets, I discard the old package and find them a new place on the shelf. How might this metaphor manifest in my life?
It is clearly autumn now. September’s warm weather had kept up a pretense of summer, but it is time to face facts. The leaves are metamorphosing into red, yellow, and orange, then fluttering in the breeze to rest on the grass that has slowed in its growth. Perhaps this brilliant show was designed to ease the transition to bare trunk and branch, preparing for the upcoming time of darkness and cold. It is the season’s task to let go of what can no longer yield and to store up what is needed to get through. My
cupboards and closets call me to do a similar purge and squirreling away, with the silent invitation to do the same with my life.