Now, I watch these seasons unfold from the vantage point of a seventy-year old mother and grandmother. While I’ve always had a lot of energy, and often overlooked my need to moderate that intensity, now my body is naturally slowing, accepting a more gentle rhythm. At first I fought against this, not wanting to “give into growing old.” I can be stubborn, driven and for much of my life that’s served me well. But lately, I’ve been more accepting that I’m moving through a different season of my life.

This week I’ve noticed some spots of changing color in the leaves, a hint that fall is coming. Likewise there’s been a ramping up of activities as my grandsons play soccer and Little League. I watch my son, Brooks, who is now 40, in that busy life stage of school-age children, building a career, and sustaining marriage and family life. I remember those days as exciting and exhausting.

When I took my Solo Journey in Doolin, Ireland in September of 2022, I found this Celtic rendering of the first verse of an often quoted scripture from Ecclesiastes Chapter 3 (NIV Bible):

At the time, the verse meant most to me in the context of seasons of relationships. I’d had a rich conversation with an Irishman named, Patrick while visiting the Cliffs of Moher. He’d also gone through divorce and shared how he’d found someone new, surprised by that occurring in a ‘later season of life.’ He’d encouraged me and seeing this print reminds me of that special day.

Now I read Chapter 3 beyond the first verse. It speaks to the processes of our lifetime eg. “time to be born and time to die” “time to plant and to uproot”.

The one that jumps out at me is “a time to tear down and a time to build.” I think of Brooks at mid-life and all the effort that goes into building. I remember my days of working as a nurse and then coming home to family life and maintaining a home. Over those years, there’s lots of accumulating of things that are necessary for a family and all the needs of growing children. Then you arrive at a day when those things, that are no longer necessary, fill your garage like they did our house of twenty years. That’s the stage when you face verse 6: “a time to keep and a time to throw away.”

Now looking at the whole of this chapter, it makes sense; it’s the flow of life.

Last Tuesday, I sat by a mountain stream and watched the water move easily, allowing the direction to change as rocks and limbs appeared in its course. There was no struggle, no insisting on a different direction; there was surrendering to the natural movement of the stream.

Now, I think that I’m in the process of surrendering to the natural rhythm of life. It’s time to enjoy the more subtle beauty of autumn and being seventy.

Best to you in this season of life.

Connie