Turning

The angle of the sun is shifting rapidly these days. I notice areas of shade in the garden here at the chateau moving every day in accordance with the late summer dance of Brother Sun. He is rising later and setting a bit earlier, too. No matter what, fall will arrive, as it does every year. I so look forward to it.

This summer was a season of dramatic unwinding, from long-held obsessions and regrets, from the echoes of past lives, from the yearning for lives I never lived. I lost a dear friend whose life changed radically, I said goodbye to two clients whose mental illness overcame them, making it impossible for us to continue working together.

This summer I threw away all of my summer clothing - every sock, every nasty old teeshirt - all at once.

This was the summer when it became possible for me to put away the photographs of my dog Jake that were everywhere in the chateau, except for the one on the ancestor altar. I've toyed for three years with the idea of getting another dog. This summer at last I came to the realization that though I love dogs, and I had one dog, I don't want another one. It's a relief to be able to say it out loud.

It has been a bloody whirling dervish of summertime unwinding, I tell you. I'm tired, and a bit dizzy, as a result. Wouldn't you be?

It wasn't all about letting go. It has been a summer of deep healing and transformation during which I received a tattoo, faced the fear of walking through the Holocaust Museum. I did a lot of teaching this summer, a satisfying and fruitful experience for which I have a lot of gratitude.

It was a summer of hard work - good work - but still, can fall arrive soon enough? I think not. I dream of the cool, the crisp, the changing leaves (which will not be very pretty this year because it was so dry. I don't care; they will be pretty enough.) Maybe we'll have winter this year, too. I hope so!

I am full of yearning for autumn in the midst of late summer heat and humidity. I am so done with this summer! Enough is enough!

Shalom.