What’s Falling away?

Our maple tree as seen and photographed from my meditation chair.

In California, we’ve been blessed with steady rains. The delicate, deep red leaves of our maple tree are shedding, departing for a season, and leaving me to wonder. What must fall away for a new season of life to begin?

This morning in meditation, I imaginatively put my physical self on a bench looking over the Aegean Sea on the island of Lesvos, Greece in a spot I used to walk past during my visits to this island. After sitting myself on a bench, I imagined myself above my body like a bird. It was time for a little chat with my dear, old self, and I felt the need to position what might be called my higher self above her, so that I could hover like a bird freely in the ether.

During this chat, between my old self, and an emerging new one, there was discussion around why much of the woman sitting with her feet on solid ground was going to be left behind, while the rest of me was already flying high and away from her old and worn out ways of being. This leaving of much of myself behind was explained not in the language of rejection but rather in the language of transformation. The part of me sitting on the bench was gently told that that she, the old self, must take a back seat to allow the emergence of a new one. It’s only in the setting aside of the old that we can embrace fully the new.

The conversation between the old self and the new self was a tender one, I must say. There were no reprimands, no regrets, no unwelcome “should have done things this or that way” comments. No, it was a sweet conversation, though firm in tone.

Certain ways of doing and being can suddenly become so obsolete and destructive that a new path forward simply must be forged. Recognizing and admitting that old patterns result in exhaustion, hurt, and wasted time isn’t easy because facing one’s inner saboteur is, quite simply, unwelcome information, and a drag that requires that we, God forbid, change course.

These kinds of hard-hitting truths, once identified, might take the form of a painful sort of exhausting inner civil war. The body, frustrated because it’s ignored, might just assert itself. A backache, a sickness, or an illness might well be the only thing powerful enough to stop us in our frenzied tracks long enough to force us into our interiors, where our wisdom resides.

Likewise, very unpleasant experiences, might wake a person up. A situation with another human being, formerly tolerable, may begin to feel more like walking on broken glass, or wrestling with an evil spirit.

There comes a time when enough is enough, and change must come. Yet it can be rough going until the truth about one’s self, and one’s complicity with chaos, emerges.

The leaves are indeed swirling toward their inevitable destination, regardless of our regrets.

Endings happen, the truth of situations can no longer be ignored. Reckonings occur because our intuitive knowledge and insight into situations can no longer be denied, if we ultimately decide to reside in painful truths, and honesty, rather than continuing to evade what we know to be the truth. Inconvenient and disruptive truths, once accepted, lead us to transfomration. If attended to, these truths, no longer ignored and repressed, will set us free. When heeded, these powerful truths, downloaded into our psyche but perhaps ignored for years, will often lead to blessed surrender, serenity, even joy. When illusions are shattered, things we once clung to, maybe even just from habit, fall away.

As things fall by the wayside, though, new seeds are planted, rooms are redecorated and renewed, and one finds a myriad of new streets to explore, new cats to cuddle and feed, and new faces. Before we know it, new neuropathways emerge, and we can see new ways of being in the world. Those old tapes, cds, and records can be put to the side and revived occasionally on a rainy day, or for sentimental reasons, but they have their place; they’re no longer running the “internal show.” Thoughts change, and this changes everything. Every day is new, and there are endless ways to appreciate life because now there’s more room. The internal house has been all swept up. The floors scrubbed and shined; everything can be seen anew.

And so, this morning I looked down at my old self sitting on her bench, where I had delicately, and with compassion and love, placed her. From afar, I loved her as much as I possibly could. Still, I told her that I was leaving much about her behind, because I need a new beginning. I need to come into a stronger, more centered, clear-thinking, creative and expansive version of my old self.

It’s time. The leaves are falling away, and so is my old self.

I leave her in one of the most beautiful places that I know, and she’s got all the inspiration and love that she needs, looking as she is does out on to the horizon. Her view is of the expansive Aegean Sea, so I certainly do not feel sorry for her. Plus, a little beach with an icon of the Archangel Michael protecting it is not far from where she sits. And there’s a castle behind her, too. She is loved, well cared for, content.

And I’m free.

I’ll view her occasionally from the “rearview mirror,” even as I keep flying.

What asks to fall away?

A beautiful question that leaves room for the greatest gift we are given, the opportunity to transform, to evolve into a more authentic version of ourselves that we left behind when we were children. As kids, we adapted, as a matter of necessity, to all of the wonderful and challenging personalities that we were assigned to in this lifetime, so that we could learn, and grow.

At a certain point, and it may take many years, it’s our work to go searching for that little, authentic self that got left behind, lost somewhere amidst the fray of trying to grow up. We can reunite again, and embrace our true essence, the part of ourselves that’s sacred, un-cowed, full of light, magnificent, and wanting to be rediscovered, loved, and embraced.

So today, everything that’s old and worn out is gently set aside.

And me? I’m flying over the waters of the Aegean Sea, looking down upon the islands, and basking in new horizons, new beginnings, new ways to live.

The old me is where she wants to be— surrounded by beauty, outmoded in her ways, but free to join me if she pleases.

Perhaps, when she’s strong enough, clear enough, disentangled from her old and worn out patterns, she’ll follow. And I’ll be there, waiting for her, arms like angel wings, wide open and ready to greet her.