Seasons of Life: Why It's Still Summer in September

Monday, September 8, 2014

With the start of September, the excitement of fall is in the air. Pumpkin spice lattes are being sold, friends are Pinning autumn pictures, and the general longing for cool weather and to wear sweaters + boots is palpable among my peers (and especially in the online world). 

And yet...I find myself pulling back. Refraining from joining the excitement. I've come to realize that most personal growth often happens when you are least aware of it...and somehow, this summer, I began to truly enjoy + treasure + drink in moments of the present. 

And in many ways, I feel the whisper of the old soul within me when I hear others around me pipe up energetically and exuberantly about their longing for fall. It's a glimmer of a secret smile, for something in me now knows that it is all right to wait...that all things come in due time. 

With that sense of new patience, of knowing "what's coming will come, and when it does, we'll be ready for it," is an understanding that I feel that way about something much deeper than fall. Somehow, in this perpetual summer of the south, waiting for fall has paralleled the journey of my heart. The waiting and expectation of the future. Of perhaps a special someone who might be a part of my future -  a part of my story.

I think the idea of that future someone is like one's own personal gravity - I can now go all day without consciously thinking of him (whoever "him" is), but the whisper of the future is always there and the slightest reminder wraps its existence around me like the hint of an autumn breeze I can't see. Because for the first time, despite my complete and utter love for autumn, I'm not ready for it. 

I don't want it to come now. I don't want him to come now. 

Because it's not the right season. Because days are still warm and wild and carefree and unquenchably youthful...and free. It's still summer. 

Summertime is rich...a season of bounty, of overflowing, of goodness, of ripening, of coming into what you were meant to be - plant, seed, or person. 

Life is made up of seasons, my mother told me. It was something I grew up with that was a set in stone fact - similar to ones like the sun sets, the sky is blue, don't run with scissors, Sundays are church days.

Life is made up of seasons. 

And sometimes those seasons involve waiting. Ann wrote about pruning during the full seasons of life - why sometimes we have to prune and say no to good things...because pruning things that are blooming allows for a greater crop later on.

That doesn't make much sense, it seems at first. And yet it does. If Spring is young people + teenagers who are thrumming with life and vibrant and growing and shooting up with bright dreams and wide smiles...than Summer is young adults and people growing into their own with a slow deepness and a rich expanding of dreams + desires.

To many, Summer is the best time - the perfect season. And why wouldn't it be, they ask? Full of growth and wonder and why not drink in every moment and say yes to the magic of it all? Why "prune" or step back from certain things?

Ann writes, "there’s a counter-intuitiveness to it, this plucking off certain life activities that will yield good fruit. Some might even think it foolish to pare back, when the bloom and gifting apparent; a good harvest inevitable."

All my life, I've rushed into fall, yearning and over-eager - shooting out of the gate before even the first hint of the season appeared. Similarly, for most of my teenage (and college years thus far). like most girls, I've yearned for a relationship and dreamed about the future. 
And yet as Ann said, "it’s the pruning of seemingly good leaves that can grow a better life. 

To allow later seasons to yield the longed-for abundant crop."

For the first time, I'm beginning to understand...perhaps it is a healthy pruning to cease reaching + stretching towards the future. And instead to settle in the summer sunlight of the present moment, in this stage of life. In this season. 

Because I can sense it in my bones. Autumn's time has not come yet. 
There is still a bit more of summer to come. Still plenty of sun-soaked days to drink in, stirrings of the soul and thoughts to be pondered beneath a blazing blue sky. Autumn has - and always will have - my heart. 

But something has changed in me. Something has slowed. 

So give me these days of sun + youth + wild freedom. I can drink them in, secure in the knowledge that autumn will come - only when it should. No one can rush the changing of the world or in life. So I will not try. 

I think of the future + autumn now and then - frequently, if I am honest. But without the pangs of longing that I once had: "For everything, there is a time and a place." And it is not that time or place. 

But I know he will come - with the cool whisper of wind and the coziness of cups of cocoa on chilly days and the promise of adventure in the air. Perhaps not this year or the next or the next after that. 

But Autumn falls every year. 

So I will wait. For it - and him - to come to me. 


  1. This is gorgeous. So many feels. <3 Thank you.

    1. So many feels from your sweet comment. :) Thank you, lovely girl!

  2. Wow, Grace, this post is both full of wisdom and beautifully written. Thank you for sharing the lessons you've learned.

    1. Thank you, my beautiful Jenna - I am so honored you commented! <3

  3. What a lovely post that is something I need to be reminded of as a fall (and love;) ) obsessed girl

    1. Joyce, I can sympathize with being obsessed with both of those. Thank you for commenting!

  4. B.E.A.U.T.I.F.U.L. ♥ You are wise beyond your years.

    1. Thank you, dear Grace. Your comment means so much!

  5. That was amazing. So beautifully written; it gave me so many feels. <3