There is – genuinely – a unique cycle to life. Much as our lives still revolve around the calendar, that same “calendar-like” existence plays out in many ways everyday. There is the beginning, which is akin to spring and the production/full bloom phase, akin to summer. Then there is the closing/harvesting phase, akin to fall. And eventually, there is rest and renewal, which is winter.
Growing up, the seasons of life still very much had meaning. In the days before grocery stores had fresh strawberries in November and apples in May, we lived more in tune with the solar calendar. Much of our lives revolved around it. Our diet certainly reflected the seasons. In winter and spring, you ate mostly root vegetables stored in a root cellar. In late spring, there were fresh strawberries and greens. In mid-summer, cherries, tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, peppers and carrots. In fall, carrots, potatoes, beets, more onions and fall’s fruits of pears and apples.
When you think about how that evolved into our diet, consider our traditional meals. There was nothing like a pot roast with mashed potatoes and roasted carrots and onions in fall and winter. Pumpkin and apple pies for Thanksgiving and Christmas. And in summer? Strawberry shortcake on the Fourth of July.
Life, too, revolved around the calendar. Fall was dominated by back to school, getting wood in for the winter, fall sports – particularly football and volleyball in my house – and new jeans, sweaters and coats. Our biggest fall adventure? We had five huge maple trees in our side yard. We could play in those leaves for hours and hours either after school and on weekends. We built some pretty amazing leaf houses.
Winter was dominated by basketball season, snow days, snowmen, indoor board games and the pre-Must-See-TV genre. This was the days of “jiggle TV” with Charlie’s Angels, Wonder Woman, Mash and Happy Days, for those of a certain age.
Spring was a season of sometimes dashed expectations. A warm day was likely followed by a snowy day, particularly if Lake Erie hadn’t frozen over. Nobody planted a garden until Memorial Day weekend when the threat of a frost had subsided and we likely spent too much time waiting for spring to end so we could enjoy summer vacation.
As I mentioned before, summer just blew the doors off. There were backyard fires and corn roasts. Sleeping outdoors “under the stars,” which sounds much better than the real experience. The only rule was to stay in the neighborhood and to come home when the streetlights turned on. Neither was a burden. The neighborhood was filled with kids and the streetlights didn’t turn until 9 p.m.
Today, I find that when my life gets chaotic or stressful, returning to the simplicity of living by the calendar seems to impose both structure and serenity to my every day. It’s familiar and like I suddenly know the rules and the routines again. Ah, it’s fall. Okay, that must mean I do this. It’s spring? Hmm… it’s time to do that.
I like routine, I find. I like the predictability of life that has a routine. I love summer’s disregard of routine in that it is both freeing and it reminds me so clearly while I like routine. But in fall? Get in line, baby. It’s time to settle down.
As life has gotten a little off the rails lately, the routine of fall is gradually creeping back in. I’ve noticed how we are gradually moving back indoors. Fires move to the indoor fireplace vs. the outdoor one. Lamps that hadn’t been turned on since late May start to get turned on around 7 p.m. each night. In summer, the house can get untidy and it doesn’t feel as chaotic because there’s a pristine outdoors to enjoy. In fall, housekeeping takes on renewed significance.
I love this time of the year and probably more so since I started working part-time and from home. There is a simple peace to what I do. Planning dinner, picking up the house, putting out a few fall decorations, buying a few Christmas gifts, cleaning out a closet or two and stacking firewood to dry. These are simple, everyday tasks that I used to rush through because I needed to get it done in the few short hours of a weekend or while I ruminated on a work problem. Today, these tasks are a gentle reminder that I live differently now. That I do have the time to prepare good, healthy meals. That cleaning out a closet doesn’t have to get scheduled weeks in advance. That life can indeed move more slowly. And when my mind grasps that life is going to move more slowly, the body soon follows. I breathe a little more deeply and evenly; I sleep just a little better; I get a little more exercise and gain a little less weight.
But I find the biggest thing is that when I live more slowly and more peacefully, I also live in tune with the calendar and the natural rhythms that we’ve learned generationally related to weather, daylight and tradition. That in itself brings another layer of peace. It feels right. And it feels natural.
So today, when I’ve been struggling with a work slowdown (which ultimately relates to a work rampup for me), I find that I am reminding myself that it’s fall and it’s time to harvest. And just like a wet, cold summer can lead to a meagre garden harvest, so can a pandemic lead to a meagre work harvest. But, this is what I have to harvest. It doesn’t mean I worked less or made more poor decisions. It was the fruit that would bear this year. But, it’s time to harvest. And I will and I’ll be grateful for what I’ve reaped.
Life, it appears, really isn’t all that complicated or at least not nearly as complicated as we make it. It’s fall. It’s time to harvest.
The Yuppie Homesteader 