"I'm Going Through Changes"

Something special about this time of year, when the mornings begin to feel crisp and the breeze a bit chilly, the leaves floating slowly to the ground as if they are carelessly letting go of what was holding them in place, finally feeling free from the heaviness of the storms and the sweltering heat they endured. I admire the gentleness of their landing as they gracefully just let go. They served their purpose for that moment in time. Provided shade and shelter. A place of comfort for those needing a space to feel protected. A character in a picture that captured the most beautiful sunset you could ever see. We see them, the leaves, all year long. We watch them arrive and we watch them go. Slowly falling to their resting place to take on a new form. The pile we play in, the stuffing in our scarecrow, the compost in our gardens, or again the protection and warmth for the little lives that are underneath. Again giving to something besides themselves.

Maybe I feel so connected to this time of year because most of my life I have felt much like they do. Showing up, being held in place by something that needs me. Something I provide protection to, love, comfort, understanding, grace, forgiveness, shelter, and everything I have to give until there is nothing left, suppressing my own needs to serve my purpose in their life, to see it through until I'm no longer needed, and then letting go, drifting through to my next stop and softly landing. But those moments when I'm drifting slowly, letting go of what was needed, and landing at my next stop, are the most gentle quiet moments of my life.

As parents, co workers, spouses, friends, employees, sons, and daughters, we find ourselves being needed, pulled in a million directions, and often times feel like we're overwhelmed. I am a giver, a fixer, a protector, so I don't know how not to be all the things for everyone, and if you're like me, you don't complain about it, but you do find yourself at times, wishing you could be like the ones who don't feel the need to be all those things to everyone all the time. I'm finding as I get older, and my children get older and I'm less needed, that the drifting to the next stop seems to be lasting a little longer. As I find myself being less needed, I'm not sure exactly what or who I am supposed to be. Essentially, my fall from what was holding me feels a little longer this time. I feel like that song lyric, "I'm going through changes", seems to be on repeat in my head.

I'm maneuvering through this moment of my life, when maybe those instincts of being the giver, the fixer, the protector and the one that carries everything all the time, is now shifting to the one who wants to receive all I've given, be the one that feels protected, not have to fix everyone and all their problems, but float gently through, with peace and grace and full well knowing I've given all the best I've had to everyone in my life. Because somehow, even through the storms and sweltering heat, I stood strong and served my purpose in the lives around me, even when it wasn't my place to take care of them. And I know without a doubt, it was enough. I see it in my children who are strong, caring, confident, and kind. I see it in the lives I've touched and the way they know how much I care about them. I see it in the people I've encouraged who have found strength to be better, to do better. I'm not perfect, but I know I've served a good purpose in many people's lives. I plan to continue to do so, but I think I've reached this quiet era in my life. Where I don't want to be so strong all the time, I don't want to be the protector, the fixer, the giver, but rather the leaf, floating through, feeling the freedom of knowing wherever I land next I will embrace it with a gentleness. A feeling of less rushing and more time embracing the true feelings of living life not in a hurry.

Where will I land? What purpose will I serve? It's quite exhilarating really. Taking all you've endured, all you've been dealt, and turning this moment in your life into something beautiful. The unrelentless unselfishness you've given to others, the emotional and physical pain you've endured, the moments you felt like you couldn't go on and somehow clawed your way back to the surface, because while you were busy giving everything to those that needed you, you lost the understanding that you mattered too. Reaching the point in your life where you've learned how to handle anything that can be thrown at you, so now you get to choose who sits at your table and who's no longer welcome. You’ve reached that moment when you don't need anyone, rather want them there. The age when you realize life is so fragile, and does have an expiration date, and you crave the peace and steadiness now more than ever. You no longer want the chaos, the storm, the heat, the never ending neediness from those that are very capable of taking care of themselves, the age of being free and living finally for yourself. There is a sense of selfishness in those words, yet you've earned every second of it. You've reached the moment when you understand that you should also be a priority in your life, not just the lives of others. Of course, I'll show up for those that need me, it's engrained in who I am. But I'm learning to give what is given. To quit feeling like I owe anything to anyone. To stop protecting those that offer no shelter in return.

I envision walking down a quiet path surrounded by these leaves that are letting go, swirling around, landing and learning what's next in their journey. Embracing the changes that are coming and realizing it's okay to not fully know what's next. Understanding that I've given enough, that priotizing myself is okay. We get one life to live, and I refuse to waste the time that God has given me not living it. If you see me at Walmart at 3AM looking for ingredients to a recipe because I couldn't sleep, or pulled off the side of the road letting the rain just completely wash over me, or screaming so loud at my child's sporting event while recording everything they do, or doing anything that makes no sense to you, let me be. You've not walked one day in my shoes, so you don't get to decide what's best, or if it makes sense. I've decided that while I don't know exactly how this next landing looks, I am going to live every single day finally choosing myself. Giving to others what they give to me, and finally not feeling guilty for it. There is something freeing in the fall. .. the gentle slow decent to the next moment of your life.