Bittersweet Flavor of Autumn

   Fall leaves always signal, at least mentally, a bittersweet impermanence. During the meditation session yesterday morning, that feeling took the form of the gentle crackling of the leaves outside, as well as that pile of leaves that greeted me at the doorstep of the Chan center.  It also took the form of the sound of a single bird flying outside the Chan Hall---a raven or a crow, perhaps--which heralds the eventual migration of birds and the end of the summer season.
   I have to say that in spite of its intimations of impermanence, fall is my favorite time of year and also one that is evocative of my childhood. I am especially fond of October, for several reasons. When I was very young, I often felt a sense of shock that school is starting in September, and October was the time when things started to settle down within me mentally, and I knew that I was going to survive. It still happens for me to this day: September being a time of violent transition while October being the month of "accommodation", when things start to feel more settled, crisp and clear.  The other aspect I like about fall is the harvest colors: the gold of pumpkins, the fiery reds and yellows of the leaves, and so on. The appreciation I feel is bittersweet: I want to hug these fall colors into my body and internalize their warmth and comfort, but even the leaves themselves are destined to lose all their color and decay back into the soil, as winter spreads its fierce coolness.
   The other thing I like about autumn is Halloween. I don't attend Halloween parties these days, but when I was in grade school, Halloween was a time when students bonded with each other by creating haunted houses, dressing in costumes and sharing horror stories, and even creating these stories. I think I will try to do the same this year with the Grade 4 students, to have them create their own spooky stories. Two of my favorite writers, Ray Bradbury and Edgar Allen Poe, are "Fall" writers to me. They are best read under a tree of crisp red leaves. Again, Halloween reminds us of the underside of things: twilight, death, the moon, the turning of things from one state to another. All of these are gentle reminders not to cherish beauty too tightly but to be prepared to hold it lightly in one's hand and to let it just follow its natural course from birth to flowering, to decay and death. Even decay can be beautiful and joyous, and this is what occasions like Halloween and Day of the Dead can teach us.
  Fall can teach a person a lot about how to behold their life. I consider it the most philosophical season of all. I hope you can enjoy this season with me.