Cycles

The other night a few of us were sitting in the welcoming magic of Rachel and her husband’s backyard eating goodies, sharing stories and social distancing. During the evening Rachel asked us if we knew what the day was. I knew it was a Friday and that the date was August 28th, but for the life of me I could not think of a special significance for the 28th of August. From her point of view, it was the day that harkened in the tones of autumn. For those with senses dialed to nature, like Rachel’s, the cycle from summer to fall had clearly announced itself. Indeed! Summer’s heat was behind us; autumnal rains were upon us; and the air was filled with an earthy aroma on a rainy night in late August.

Cycles are one of my favorite reference points within nature and the human spirit. Spring cannot dance its fecundity without the winter’s awakening. Winter gives to spring its wild currents of thaw and melt. And we, as the spirit in human, cannot know the depths of intimacy without the cycles of Life into Death into Life – a cycle that occurs throughout a life wave. ‘In-to-me-see’ is the art of developed senses, which notice and care for the soul’s journey, another’s soul, as well as their own. Recognized, cycles are formative taskmasters that make for a good death, in the end, directly because they sustain a life well lived.

Many cultures, in the developed world, seem to have put natural cycles on the backburner of forgetfulness. Turned off and ignored is the Beauty of simple truths: Cycles offer. Cycles renew. Cycles sustain in colorful ways. They are the tempo of the soul’s journey. They keep us recognizable as Oneness within the many. They are a constant that we can skillfully flow with, or not. They are great gifts of profound joy. They are the rhythm of life, as we know it, whether we know it or not.

I so appreciated Rachel’s spot on declaration of autumn that Friday night. She noticed and spoke her observation. And she gladly accepted the change. In that moment was the recognition of being in the presence of Woman – alive, aware, and willing to participate. How lucky, I thought, are the people in her world that get to be seen by a willingness to see ever so caringly into the obvious. At times, in the past, I would see with feminine eyes, and yet act with a masculine inclination to fix. That cycle has completed. My ways have been seasoned.

The other night, in my witnessing of Woman, I was reminded to be present, allow, and offer observations only when appropriate. There is an art to living in the cycles of life. Sometimes being. Sometimes doing. Sometimes teaching. Sometimes learning. Sometimes there for myself. Sometimes there for another. Ah, being there for another. Now that’s a testament to the commitment of cycles. All to the good. All to the good!