Entering Autumn

Entering Autumn… at last.

The absolutely scorched state of our garden and house mirrors how depleted I feel in my body after this Summer Season. Overgrown beds, many brown dead leaves, plenty of cobwebs and sunny day play messes strewn about… with little energy, really– no energy left, to address them. 

 Along with the intense drought we had in our valley these past months, our family has been experiencing some excruciating trials of illness, children with high needs, increased stressors and the profound ache of grief.

It feels like we’ve had one trial after another beating down, and a good few of those that we’ve endured for many years now without lasting reprieve. 

Our little town was on emergency water restriction for a good while, so the flowers were thirsty and the kiddie pools stayed dry.  

Daily prayers as of late have basically consisted of, “Lord, please send rain.  In all the ways.” 

I  have found only a few mothers have the same experience as me in summer, or perhaps others just don’t talk about it, 

but long full days on my own with many little ones, 

no matter how much I may strive to create healthy boundaries and care for my own needs, and seek extra supports, are often simply overwhelming. 

I guess it’s not only summer, but especially summer. There have been seasons in my motherhood that seemed like I was breathing more easily, but really much of it has had me treading water in the deep end.

This doesn’t mean I’ve been perpetually unhappy treading water, but I am certainly often quite tired.

It’s helpful in my journey of being gentle with myself to remind myself that I do have some unique challenges. 

I’m off the charts a highly sensitive person, which means easily overstimulated and deeply impacted by intense things… like big emotions for example :).  

 I’m the only introvert amongst our lively chatty energetic family. 

I periodically have symptoms of complex ptsd which can be debilitating.

I’m also a strong idealist, which translates into very lofty desires and expectations for myself to be the best wife and mother I can possibly imagine.  

The struggle and loneliness of the long days is real.  Attending to all the needs and feeling like I just cannot keep up or just that I don’t have reserves to be the gentle skillful parent I know I’m otherwise capable of… it can just be discouraging.

Even so, there is the will to persevere.

The human person is amazing and nature similarly shows us resilience.

Along with weathering the hard, goodness prevails. 

After many weeks of grass growing crispier and the river growing lower and lower, we finally were given a few rain showers. Not enough to lift all the restrictions, but enough to allow a few more cherry tomatoes to grow, a couple lavender roses to bud, and to help my cosmos and zinnias in the hummingbird garden to stretch those last few inches. Small but sure signs of hope, of presence and continued drops of nourishment in the hardship.  

I’m ever learning that what He decides to give is what is best, is truly enough.  Even if my own estimations are radically different, of what one little weak woman can possibly handle, I am not God.  In the lowest of low places of these days when every cell cries out in desperation, “when will you help us?!” there is a soft whisper that I will have the grace to get to the evening once again and see, “ok, we did it, we did today.”  I may be seriously parched with only a few drops of water, but He is still sustaining me.

“Let me be singing when the evening comes… bless the Lord, O my soul”

I’ve been revisiting the album in my phone filled with joyful pictures and videos of the abundant little adventures I brought the children on over these past warm weeks. 

So much time in wonderfully green forests and cool streams. 

There was good togetherness through our Summer Collective of Montessori families. 

Though the sense of total tiredness or burn out of the season seems more salient, I can still choose to see and smile with gratitude and remembrance.

Our children have begun their several weeks of “phase-ins” where they gradually build up to being at Montessori school for the full mornings. 

 I’m taking the small bits of long-awaited solitude as opportunities to reconnect with my own thoughts and heart, eventually and hopefully my body as well.  It’s been good to write and organize my thoughts with you.

I’m anticipating the refreshment of cooler air and space to care more attentively to our home and to revisit creative projects.  

I hope to share some of these intentional moments with you and invite you to join me in 

welcoming Autumn.

If you’re into this sort of thing, here’s a Fall playlist with an “energized rest” vibe that to me describes the beginning of Fall. 

Please share if summer with little children is hard for you and any wisdom that has helped you.  Also, what is motivating you as we move into this new season?  Send me a note, I’d love to hear from you. 

Love,

Serra Ann