October feels like the peak of a wave at the last moment before it curls over itself to come crashing back to the sea. October is the culmination of the gathered quiet, that has been trapped in the earth, about to burst forth into wind. October is the orange autumn, the carved pumpkin, the moon for werewolves and Cinderella, a moon that serves as the lovers' light and the thieves' companion.
Don’t be surprised if you feel a great rising in you. There is little time left for the harvest. And dark clouds already gather on the horizon. But you believe you can ride it out. You have stood at the lighthouse in Santa Cruz and watched the surfers wait to catch the waves, just like you have waited to catch the miracle you believe is coming. You can blame your negligence on bad math skills or just defiance of the odds, while the fruit falls from the tree.
No racehorse is going to win the prize if it tarries at the gate. No salmon will spawn if it doesn’t learn to leap. And now that the seasons have been knocked out of whack, there is no better time to get to the grass-root voters. Because we need to make a new amendment.
Now I know why I keep re-running that scene from the movie, “Enter The Dragon,“ when Bruce Lee smashes the mirrors in order to bring his opponent into the light. Now I know this is not just any harvest, this is the harvest of a lifetime! But you cannot gather it in the mirrors of the mind because your bounty has nothing to do with you. God loves you too much for that kind of limit. Everything you have ever yearned for is within your reach. That is why it’s so important to give your all.
This is an entry in my Letters to Future Self written January 23, 2018 to be read on October 9, 2018. For more on the series, click here or click the tag below.
The question is: how wide is your embrace for your own life? Is it wide enough for the seven seas of love, strong enough for a Himalaya of despair, deep enough for a Grand Canyon of grief. You can’t go beyond what you can’t hold. I am not talking about clamping down into a chokehold. I’m talking about the precious cargo. I’m talking about making your life an act of profound self-care. I’m talking about the almost unbearable gentleness of holding a wounded bird, its life in your hands, until your love calms its frightened heart.
You may take solace in renunciation, remembering the motto, “You can’t take it with you when you die." Well, they got it wrong. You take everything you hold in your heart with you. The only doorway into the great beyond is through this life. Make this harvest the harvest of a lifetime and then, when your time comes, you will walk through that doorway, wholehearted.
What are you harvesting in life?
Writing Prompt: In the harvest of my life, I most cherish…
© Nick LeForce
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