The 4 Things Keats Taught Me About Moving On

Today's blog post is going to be another departure from the usual furniture rehab posts. Today I'm consuming pumpkin flavored stuff, and trying to focus on the beauty all around me. Today I'm not going to cry, and I'm not going to mourn what I've lost this year. Today is about letting go. 

In the spirit of letting go I started fervently praying for guidance, and while I was simultaneously mentally complaining that I wasn't receiving any guidance I stumbled upon "To Autumn" by John Keats. Now, I've read this sucker about a dozen times, and I've always understood the symbolism; however, it never meant anything to me until today. Here is the poem (read if you dare):

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,  Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;  Conspiring with him how to load and bless   With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;  To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,  And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;  To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells  With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,  And still more, later flowers for the bees,  Until they think warm days will never cease,  For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.  Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?  Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find  Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,  Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;  Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,  Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook  Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:  And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep  Steady thy laden head across a brook;  Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,  Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.  Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they?  Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—  While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,  And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;  Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn  Among the river sallows, borne aloft  Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;  And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;  Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft  The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;  And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

What the heck does that have to do with me? Well, maybe nothing. But here I am closing out accounts from the house I just moved out of, and doing my  best to enjoy Autumn, and this little harvest period of renewal, while I prepare for what's to come -- me, on my own, with a two-year-old blonde ball of fire. I think that's what Keats was referring to in this poem. Everyone misses the end of summer so much, or worries about the coming winter so much, that they don't get to enjoy what's right in front of them. We don't actually 'worry so much' about those things in 2017 because we have grocery stores and electric heating, but the symbolism works for my current situation, capisci? 

So, this Fall I'm going to be thinking about #Change and what a good thing it is. The leaves turn colors and fall off the trees but they come back green and beautiful eventually. I'll probably struggle for a while, and I know I'll be scared (which will supercharge my metabolism -- stress is a wonderful weight checker), but I'll bounce back and be better than ever. 

I'm going to be thinking about #Balance. In Fall the days are as long as the nights, and it's a good time for me to focus on work-life home-life balance, and North/South balance. I've been struggling to maintain relationships with the people I love up North, and to build new ones down South. I always find time for my little lady, but in other areas of my life I'm slacking. Especially with regard to my personal hygiene: mama needs a mani/pedi and a good blow-out. 

I'm going to be thinking about #LettingGo. I'm great at letting go of the petty stuff, but horrible at letting go of people and places. I've been holding on to things that need releasing for a long time. This Autumn when the leaves fall from the trees and the crops (mmm, freakin' apples) are harvested, I'm going to let go (or try to let go) of these emotions I'm holding onto so something new and good can be born. Get the Keats stuff yet? 

Finally, I'm going to be thinking about #Preservation. Fall is all about making it through the winter, and there is no better way to move on than to prepare and to preserve everything about my life that I love; the most important thing is my little girl, who is so special, and who deserves to have the happiest, best version of me she possibly can. 

Like Keats I prefer Autumn to Spring. Spring is about rebirth and growth and it's beautiful, but it's no Autumn. Autumn is overlooked: it isn't perfect, requires a lot of work and planning, but it's just as special if you take a second to appreciate it. I think I'm in the Autumn of my life, and I'm determined to enjoy it.