Sweet Surrender

Have you ever watched a leaf fall from a tree? I mean, really watch it. Here in the northwest, summer fades into fall slow and steady. The seasons take turns leading, waltzing around each other like old friends.

It starts with a giant oak leaf in sweet descent, still green and as wide as my hand, gliding gently down into a soft landing. It doesn’t complain that it wasn’t ready or that this isn’t part of the plan. It simply lets go.

One day I’m going to turn to my boy, only to find a tree sitting next to me. Time will have taken my baby. He’ll be tall, strong and full of life. I’ll be a short, weak and out of breath – as it should be, in the dance of life.

To resist is to suffer. Change is inevitable and the degree to which we experience it blows my mind away. No amount of grumbling, whining, or asking “Why?” will alter the fact. Trust me, I’ve tried.

Watching this leaf surrender to nature, I feel my heart grip. How to let go with the same aching grace as this perfect fallen leaf?