What summer is to me...

As summer comes to its end, I find myself looking over these past few months, and really thinking about what has made this summer really feel like summer. And I've come up with a list of things that, for me, really make summer.

• Beach. Walking on the sand, playing in the waves, feeling the sand under your toes.
• Bonus is spending time on the board walk with friends, checking out the pier.
• Summer's Song. The symphony of cicadas in the evenings.
• Going to the pool. This really has become a summer treat for me.
• Farmer's Markets. Fresh veggies and supporting the locals. Love it.
• Vacation from schooling. Time off to enjoy the outdoors.
• Berries and cherries. Freshly picked.
• Picnics and dinning outdoors.
• Swimming. Be it in a pool or a lake, swimming outdoors in it - is summer.
• Cucumbers. Grown in my own backyard. 
• Flowers and butterflies.

Yes, these things mean summer to me. 

Letting Go

In Autumn, most trees let go of their leaves. After a brilliant burst and symphony of color, sometimes lasting the month, and sometimes not, they let them go. Simply, naturally, each leaf falls, though some hang on for a while. It's a part of the cycle; it's a part of nature.

They let go, so that they can rest, and restore their energy in winter, and so that when spring comes, they are rested and rejuvenated, and the use that energy to create new leaves in vibrant greens and flowers for reproducing. It's an amazing and natural process - and yet, I've a tendency to fight it, as many do.

This weekend, I had the opportunity to host a retreat at a friend's. The leaves were in the midst of changing, and even though many had shed leaves, there were still trees that were full of vibrant reds and yellows. It was incredible.

It got me thinking about things that I've been holding onto tightly - sticking to the schedule for homeschooling, when letting go of a few things, and being willing to explore a few other ares. Holding onto the voice in my head that tells me "You're not doing enough. You should do more. You aren't doing this right. You've not good enough." Holding onto fear that sometimes immobilizes me, and holding onto judgments passed by another.

On Saturday, these things became clear, and a new "voice" or thought emerged. What if I'm fine the way I am? What if being this way is actually an asset, though I can't see it right now? What if I did take a new look at things, and slowed down a bit?

And so, as the leaves fell from the trees, and danced in the air, I let my own leaves fall. I've done something I haven't done in years - I chose to "Let go and let God." I chose to take a step back and another look at how we are homeschooling and the goals that I want to accomplish. I opened my heart, and nurtured my soul.

And I realized that in letting go, I am able to embrace that which will nourish me through the winter - good friends, lots of unconditional love and support, and maybe even some rest. ;)

My Grandmother's Table

My grandmother had a beautiful, oval-shaped, walnut dinning room table. For as long as I can remember, it hosted so many family memories and holidays. When my grandmother first moved into assisted living, she had to part with many of her things. I inherited her dinning room set. The beautiful table and cabinet, and the strange chairs. It was at least 30 years old.

The cabinet now hosts a plethora of our homeschooling supplies nicely organized and labeled. I've tacked up beautiful fabric from my MIL so that instead of displaying China, it houses an even more important part of our lives. Every time I look at it, I think of my grandmother, remembering all the things she used to store in it.

For 8 years it served as our dinning room table. It supported a great many feasts, tea parties, and more. This last year it's served as my office and homeschooling central. The chairs had strange netted backings, which Pook would poke her fingers through, pulling them out from the base. Two chairs have been in the basement for months, in need of tightening and new screws. And this year, when we moved the table to make room for our Christmas tree, the legs trembled.

As hubby laid underneath, tightening the screws, putting the legs back into place, we realized it was time to let it go. With a deep sigh, I called my brother, to see if he wanted it. He, like me, had no room for it. He told me that if I could find no one to take it, that instead of trashing it, I could bring it to his place, and we'd use it for a bonfire - a cremation of sorts.

We managed to find friends who will be taking the table. These friends are dear to my heart, and as they've no children to poke fingers through the chair backing, and the hubby is a Mr. FixIt, I think it shall be rather lovely in their new place. And I am so very grateful that it will have a good home for a while longer.

My grandmother died this past spring. Today, as I watched hubby and my FIL take it apart for storage in the basement until our friends pick it up, I was fondly reminded of all the years we sat and celebrated at that table. My heart ached as I felt the table's top, and watched them remove the leaf and the legs.

Now, I sit at a "new" table. It's stronger and sturdier. It's smaller and square. It belonged to my ILs. My MIL made cushions for the seats. The backs of the chairs are just right for learning against, offering wonderful support.

Right now, it's white with light wood. It's already changed the feel of the room. There's a new energy about. Pook wants to paint it black, and maybe we will.

On Thursday, this table will host a Christmas feast. New memories will be created. I've taken quite a liking to it. It feels very right, and will be the cause of revamping the dinning room to be more focused on homeschooling.

I'm hoping that it will be a part of our family for quite a while.

Letting Go

Letting go. It's one of those things I closely associate with Autumn. Many trees release their leaves after a brilliant show of color. They go through the winter cold, barren and silent. In the spring, they awake from their dormancy producing buds, fresh green, and floral decor.

It's this cyclical nature that can be seen throughout life. It's constant, continual, the one thing you can depend on - everything has a cycle. Things blossom, they wait, they let go, they sleep. Sometimes they make it through the winter. Sometimes they don't.

I've caught myself on a few occasions longing to just find a ledge where I could safely camp out for the rest of my life, instead of continually climbing the mountain and moving forward. But it's in out nature to move forward. You can stay on that ledge, but there will still be storms. There will still be challenges - just not the same.

I do this, get stuck in the safetly of the ledge. Trying to make it last. Missing out on sunsets of the mountain top and the beauty (and sometimes pain) along the way.

I realize, that I can choose to hold the fear to me so very tightly, or let it go and just embrace what there is to offer. I can choose to see a path as an adventure, or fear it. I can choose to see the beauty of a sunset, or spend my time fretting about something else.

And, I'm getting tired of fretting and worrying about something. (And, it seems I can always find something.)

Letting go. Can I shed my worry? Like the leaves of the tree? Can I trust myself enough to know that I'm not in control of every detail, so let's let it go and find something more productive to focus on? Why not?

In the end, it's up to me.

And so the light comes forth yet again...

Cycles.

The word is full of them. Winter Solstice was yesterday, and not the cycle of the sun returning and days growning longer begins. The moon cycles from darkness to fullness, with halves in between. You've got the tides of the oceans, also based on moon rhythms. The seasonal cycles as well.

I'm particularly fond of the seasonal cycles. I'm starting to honor them. For instance, in fall, I'm hit with a massive urge to declutter, shed things, and prepare for the quietness of winter. In winter, we hibernate and honor the quietness of winter. (If you've even been outdoors in the woods, when it snows, it's incredibly quiet.) In spring, I'm ready to be social and bloom again. And in summer, it's time to relish in the sun, the harvest, good fun, and be cleansed by swimming outdoors.

Women have menstrual cycles. (So, if you're a man or a woman reading this, and uncomfortable with discussing or reading about women's monthly cycles, you might just want to skip these next four paragraphs.) And, if we pay attention, you can sense through the course of 28 days, how your body and mood changes and shifts. It's really quite marvelous. For instance, I've realized that after my utterus has cleansed itself, I'm pumped, energized, and refreshed. It's pretty obvious when I'm ovulating (just ask my hubby). If I really pay attention, I actually can feel it. And right before, I'm sluggish and swollen, as my body prepares to cleanse itself.

Most women aren't happy with the cramping or the bleeding. In fact, many of the connotations associated with our monthly cycles are negative. After all, many feel it interupts things, and gets in the way. "Aunt Flo is visiting", "on the rag", and "period" are few of the terms (the nicer ones) used to speak in code about it. I've heard other women get excited about menopause - because then they can get on with their lives uninterupted. (I could go off on a tangent with this, but perhaps I'll remember to return to it at a later time.)

The fact is - it's natural. It happens, it's a way to be connected with life. I use my cycle to get in tune with myself. It reminds me to slow down and nurture myself while my body sheds and rejuvenates itself. It gives me a chance to get intouch with my inner feelings (have you realized just how hard it is to surpress how you "really" feel when your hormones are surging?) and deal with them. I've found that I need more sleep, warm foods, naps, and to just slow down in general just before and the first few days of the bleeding. I also become extremely cuddly and loving (after the cranky mood).

And so, when my cycle runs it's course, and I prepare to shed the inner uterine lining, I put my hand over my womb, thank it for being fertile and cleansing, and reminding me each month, that I need to take care of me once in a while. I enjoy being a woman, and, having my own special cycle to celebrate it. But then, that's just me.

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Okay, for those too squeamish, I'm done. :)

In any case, I always find it interesting to see the cycles in things. We've all got them. And we've got the choice to celebrate them, or ignore them, or ocmplain about them.

And that's my two cents for today.