Where is autumn in your Spiritual Life?

Autumn is coming.  Really.  Even though the calendar date is set for Sept. 22, most often here in the Coastal Bend she seems to arrive a bit later, quite a bit later.  When she does, we start noticing that the Chinese tallows have turned a deep red and the wind in cottonwoods is gently making itself heard.
 

Most people associate autumn with letting go.  Leaves fall.  Families may make that one last trip to the beach.  Summer clothes are washed and put away for next year.  True enough we all need to let go of hurts and surrender to God’s mercy.  However, perhaps there is another spiritual side to autumn. That is, noticing.
 

St. Ignatius would tell us that we can discover God in all things.  And to do that we need the grace of becoming aware.  The Biblical story of Jacob’s ladder (Gn 28:10-19) reflects our common need for awareness.  “After Jacob awoke, he exclaimed, ‘Surely the Lord is in this place and I did not know it.’”
 

After we have asked God for the grace of awareness, what can we do to help nurture this gift?  Summer is the busy time for vacations, summer school and job changes.  Nurturing means stepping back and making time to collect oneself.  In other words, one needs to have an autumn state of mind and heart.  Perhaps many in our society need to return to what the medievals called melancholia. 
 

Most people today would equate melancholy with feeling down or depression.  However, this was not its original meaning.  Melancholia was one of the four humors that comprised the human personality and I remember reading that it was prized as it gave depth to what would be a superficial life. In today’s language, melancholia would mean a person would take time to be thoughtful; to reflect on such questions as where am I going, why am I here and why am I doing what I am doing.  
 

An autumn state of mind needs to include one’s spirituality.  Summer is not just days charted on a calendar but can be a life style where, as Shakespeare put it, “Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines.”  To be fully human, we need the shade of the Chinese tallows of autumn.  We need to ponder as Mary did.  We need more than “where am I going” questions.  We need to sit and listen to what our heart is asking about who God is for us as well as who we are to God.  Simply put, autumn invites us to become more aware of the God who is always present to us.
 

However, this invitation does not come without a price tag.  Listening to one’s heart can be a dangerous undertaking and a life changing risk.  But then, that is what courage means as it comes from a French word—cour or heart.  I use to ask my high school students a similar question every so often:  which would you rather have—a 100 percent of nothing or 50 percent of something very difficult?  
 

In conclusion, I ask, where is the autumn in your life in terms of your relationship with God?