Seasons

As the last of the warmer seasons leave us, we suddenly feel the cold reality of life, moving swiftly by like a sudden rushing wind. And as the memories of our liveliness, so suddenly, fade to pale browns and greys, the bite of winter's breath reminds us that the old season is gone, and that its time to let go and face the even greater, frosty horizon. So too in my life I feel the sudden plunge that turns to a fast free-fall, as if my soft, leafy landing had vanished and all that remains is the deep and long abyss of simply living.

And there are times it seems that the elements of winter, such as deep chill of a quiet hush, and the crackling of frost as it envelopes us, all too quickly takes over the place that we once felt the warmth of the season we grew too used to being in. And like a thief in the night, the bite of winter has silently changed our surroundings, stolen what was left of our beautiful summer, and left us with the cold, unending night. But stepping into a new season is never easy, especially when the evergreen are all too fond of reminding us that we're simply out of place. Nothing more than bits of twine and twigs, without the lush of the green we once were clothed with, and completely fruitless in a season we suddenly realise we do not belong in.

But the truth that rings out is that with winter comes the rain, and the deep silence required to mourn the passing of a good season. A chance to rebuild and to regrow for the harvest yet to come. For there is no room for new beginnings, without letting go of the past. And there cannot be growth after a harrowing winter, if we're weighing ourselves down with the memories of a summer's past. So I'm appreciating the warmth I'm blessed with through the frost, to endure me beyond the winter till spring comes at last.

Equation

Its an interesting thing to consider, when one thinks of how to reason "purpose" in life. That if everything in the world can be summed up, rounded off, multiplied and divided, to a fraction of 'heaven', and somewhere in that enormous equation, still manage to find you. And if, like Einstein suggested, the world is simply made up of compressed, recessed, recycled and re-used energy, then how does one find purpose, for a purpose that is truly significant and special to you?

With all our mistakes, misdirections and imperfections in life, how is it we manage to find space for an unreasonable thing like love? For it in no way has an equation, or a reason or quantifiable reaction, nor does it have perceived methodologies that define it or bind it in any way. So then how do we describe it, define it, compose it or refine it, if there are no compounds to collate its unique sum?

The answer is simple and the equation is this, that love has no fraction or part in its whole. It can therefore only be defined by the source we find it most in, and can summarize its equation from the results we find in ourselves. And that no matter how the measure of your life seems at any point, that even the positives and negatives add up to the perfectly rounded you.